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Finally, she turns to me, and I’m shocked at the tears that well in her eyes. But they’re not tears of sadness; they’re tears of rage. ‘I want to break up with Logan,’ she says.
I suddenly regret being rude to her. ‘Oh, Cass, why didn’t you—?’
‘I’m ashamed, Frankie. I’m fucking ashamed at myself. Logan and I never have sex anymore. He’s always high or on a game or too tired. I’ve tried everything. I’ve tried talking to him about it, I’ve tried surprising him with lingerie, I’ve tried initiating it. But every time I’m met with the same excuses, and it really fucking hurts. I feel unwanted and unattractive, and Archer—‘
‘Oh my God.’ I sit back in my seat. ‘You’re in love with Archer.’
‘Eww, no.’ She fiddles with her amethyst bracelet. ‘I was with Archer for only one week, but that week I had the best sex of my life. I love to feel wanted. And it’s not even about climaxing…’ She shakes her head. ‘I can’t explain it. I just like the intimacy of it, being close to someone like that. But it wasn’t love. Archer just has this way of making you the center of his world in those moments.’
I don’t really know what to say. I fumble in my bag for my sketchbook and pencils and shove on my glasses. Fingernails still mark my thigh from Archer’s hand. I want to tell her I don’t even find Archer attractive—I mean, yeah, he’s good looking, with that sharp jawline and his crown of blond tousled hair—but he’s not attractive. He’s not a nice person; he lacks any favourable attributes, and his only ambition is to sleep with girls.
I want to tell her I have a crush on Chase, even though I know absolutely nothing about him. We haven’t even conversed all that much, but when I’m around him, I feel… calm. Safe. It’s embarrassing to admit, but sometimes my mind drifts and I conjure a life with him and I see myself wrapped in his arms in a meadow in the sun, and the only things I feel is the warmth on my skin and the strength of his arms.
But I can’t confess any of that to Cassie. I know she’ll blag and it’ll get round to Chase, and then I’ll have to change my name to Morag and move to the Canary Isles.
‘That still doesn’t change the fact that you're with Logan,’ I say at last. ‘If you don’t want to be with him, then leave.You can't say you want to break up with him and then don't. Cheating on him will destroy him, Cass.’
She turns to me, wide-eyed. ‘I’m not going tocheaton him! Do you think I’m a slut or something? How can you even say that?’
I don’t tell her she already has cheated on him. The moment she started pining for Archer, she betrayed him. Unbidden, I think of my mother. It’s taken me until last night to realise her mind left my father a long time ago, right when the arguments started. Her body abandoned him sometime after.
When I don’t say anything, she holds a hand up between us. ‘Just fuck off, Frankie.’
???
My phonepingsas I’m filling up a carton of popcorn for a customer. I try to conceal my excited impatience as I finish up their order so I can fish out my phone.
Kai:wont be able to talk much tonight, picking up a piano
I physically deflate.
Me:didn’t know you even played piano
Kai:I don’t, but it’s free init
Me:you’re getting a piano because it’s free?? Pls tell me your joking!?
He doesn’t reply, so I assume he’s already left to collect his free piano.
I shake my head with a smile as I clean the counter. Over the past few months, I’ve grown to adore Kai’s whimsical impulses. Perhaps that’s why I look forward to our conversations, because I never know what he’s going to greet me with. One time he messaged to say there was a pigeon on his head in a kebab shop and I didn’t hear from him for the rest of the night.
‘I hope you’re thinking about me,’ Archer says behind me.
I whip around. He gives me a lazy smile as he rests his elbows on a table. How long has he been standing there watching me?
I edge back around the counter, wanting to put as much distance between us as possible. ‘How do you know where I work?’
His smile widens into a grin.
I’m immediately uncomfortable. I think about his promise to march to my house and drag me from my bed, and I suddenly wonder if he truly meant it.
‘Well, I don’t finish till one,’ I say, hoping he’ll get the hint.
‘My date’s running a little late,’ he says.
I freeze, because of course he has a date. Of course he isn’t here to see me.
He must read my expression, because he tilts his head and regards me intently. I feel like an insect beneath a microscope. ‘Are you okay, love? You look a little flustered there.’
