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“Cute, right?” She does a little twirl and a fake laugh, then bats her blonde lashes at Josh. He reaches out and untwists the strap of my bodysuit, completely ignoring her. “Yeah, I work for Paisley magazine right now. They give us loads of free clothes.”
“Never heard of it,” I tell her.
She blinks. “Oh, it’s, um. A fashion magazine. It’s pretty well known in London.”
“Is it?” I say flatly.
She waves me off. “But enough about me. You’ve obviously done well for yourself. I saw you in Couture Urban mag, I love their stuff.” She pauses. “Hey, I bet you’re going to London Fashion Week this year, right?”
I shrug. “Probably.” I’ve been to a few LFWs. They’re easy enough to get into if you have enough followers on social media.
She shimmies a bit closer to me, linking our arms. “Reckon you could get me and my boyfriend tickets? I’ve been dying to go to a show, but they’re all, like, invitation only, which blows.” She pouts.
I smile at her as sweetly as I can. “No.” I pull my arm out of hers.
She blinks. “What do you mean, no?”
“No,” I repeat. “I know you don’t hear the word very often, but surely you know what it means.”
She looks absolutely shocked. “But we’re friends,” she protests. “We used to be so close!”
“Did we?” I ask doubtfully.
“We used to sit together in Art, remember?”
I nod. “Yes. I remember us sitting together in Art for a whole ten minutes. Until I reached over you to pick up a paintbrush, and you started screaming about how I’d touched you and probably given you an STI. After which, I sat at my own table for the rest of the year, while you got to sit with your friends, just like you wanted.”
Luke startles behind me. “Emma? Is that true?”
Emma looks up at him with big eyes. “I… of course not, Mr Martins. I don’t know why she’d say that.”
“So you’re saying Layla is lying?” He pushes.
“No, I…”
I feel Luke’s grip on my hand tightening, and cut her off before she says something that will really upset him. “No, I can’t get you tickets, Emma.” I tell her, nodding at her circle of friends. “You can go now.”
Without waiting for a response, I turn back to the snack table. Luke leans in as Zack immediately hones in on the crisps. “She’s one of them, isn’t she?” He says quietly. I hear the strain in his voice.
“It’s okay, Luke. It’s over.”
“Did she hassle you in my class?” He demands. “Did I not notice?”
Luckily, before I have to come up with a reply, a familiar voice pops up behind me.
“Well, if it isn’t Layla Thompson,” Donny Pritchard drawls. All of the men stiffen simultaneously.
I sigh. “You know, you don’t have to talk like a movie villain,” I say, turning to face him.
He looks awful. His hair is greasy, his suit is too big for him, and he’s still sporting a fading black eye.
“Wow,” I say. “You look like crap.” I glance up at Zack. “Nice job.”
Zack puffs out his chest with pride. Josh rolls his eyes.
Donny scowls at Zack. “I’m surprised you’re not on house arrest,” he spits. “They shouldn’t let you out in public.”
“Oh, aye,” Zack agrees. “I should be in a cage, I reckon.”
