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“Swear jar.”He squeezed her tight.
“Fuck off.”She squeezed back.When she pulled away, he looked down at the great damp patch on his shirt from her tears and snot and two great big black blotches of kohl.“The things I do for you, this is my best shirt.”
“Then your tastes up your arse too.”
Now they were both laughing.“I got a new suit today,” he said, relieved the mood had lightened.
“Really, why?”She was swiping at her nostrils with the back of her hand.Carts got up and found a tissue box among the debris of make-up on her dressing table and handed it to her.Avery pulled out reams and scrubbed at her nose and eyes.He guessed it would be good to let her focus on his news while she put herself back together.Then he’d revisit the flute problem.
“Maybe I’ve got a hot date.”A telltale heat crept up his neck.
“Oooh, really?”Avery’s smudgy eyes lit up.“Tell me everything.Like where did you meet?”
“Through a friend.Remember my mate, Polly?”
“The one with the seriously curly hair?”
“Yes, her.She introduced us and… then I suggested Judith—that’s her name—come to my Friday night yoga class, and we’ve kind of seen each other a few times after at the pub.Just friendly.Then when I had my thirtieth…”
“The one you didn’t invite me to.”
“You’re too young for drinks parties.Besides, we did dinner as a family the week before.”
She stuck her tongue out at him.“Whatever.Go on.”
“So, then I invited Judith of course, and…”
“Have you lip synched yet?”
“What?”
“Kissed, you mung bean; have you kissed her yet?”
“Urmm, maybe.”
“Tongues?”
Carts pulled at his collar.“Not telling.”
“Haha, then you have.”Avery air-punched.“Yesss.So, what’s she like?”Her lower lip jutted.“I bet she’s tiny, like Alice.”
“No, she’s tall, probably taller than you.”
“Really?”Her face lit up.“You’ve gotta date her.I need to feel like I’m not the only giraffe woman in the world apart from Mum.”
She unwound her legs and bounced off the bed, then scooted over to the door.Carts stared, perplexed, as she pressed her back against it and stood ramrod stiff against the wooden frame.
“What are you doing?”Teenage girls were unfathomable.
“Measure me.See if I’ve got taller,” Avery demanded.“I’m paranoid I might still be growing.”
“So what if you are?”
“It’s horrible being over six foot when you’re a girl.”
“Supermodels are.”
“That’s different.”
