‘Sevennotebooks?’ he asks.
‘Yeah, I lied the other day,’ I say. ‘There are seven, not four.’
I don’t know where the confession came from– I blame the last cocktail– but, drunk or not, I can’t do this all looking up at him. I tug at the lapel of his jacket, pulling it out from under my back to cover my face as I hide from the impending judgement.
‘One’s more of a file than a notebook, but they serve the same purpose and they’re all updated on a regular basis,’ I mumble.
EvenI’msick of me, so I can’t even fathom why Aiden of all people still remains by my side. But remain he does, still and silent, as I regain composure and eventually shrug off my suit-jacketed cone of shame.
‘That’s too many notebooks. Even for you, Maddy,’ he says, getting up from his step and scooping me from the bed I have made of the stoop.
My calves tremble in the new standing position, giving me no choice but to grip Aiden tighter as I wobble unevenly in my heels.
‘They all serve a purpose!’ I try to steady my legs.
He holds firm, patiently waiting while I bring myself back to a less shaky stand.
‘I’m sure they do. Now take this and put your address in,’ he says.
His phone feels warm and slippery in the palm of my hand, taxi app shining brightly on the pre-loaded screen.
‘The best thing they ever did was let people add stops.’ He watches as I clumsily type in my postcode.
‘I can get my own car.’
And I mean it, as well. The last thing I need is another favour owed to Aiden Edwards.
‘Don’t think you can,’ he responds, lightly bemused.
He practically lifts me into the taxi, doing up my seatbelt and resigning me to the middle seat so he can keep a closer hold of me. It would be demeaning if I were able to do any of it myself, but with the way the car is basically just a blur at this point, I suppose I could use the help. We drive mostly in silence, me too focused on not throwing up and him too focused on checking on me. But, after a while, I feel him shift slightly, chest rising and falling with purpose as he takes a deep breath to prepare for something big.
‘Maddison?’ he asks nervously.
‘Yes, Aiden?’ I manage to reply.
‘While we’re here, can I ask you one thing?’
‘I guess.’
‘Why do you hate me so much?’
I let out a deep, accidental laugh, cringing as it echoes around the taxi.
‘That’s what we do, Aiden. We’ve been playing this game since we were, like, ten years old.’ I search for his face in the dark. ‘Though the last round was pretty cruel of you, I have to say.’
I wait for the inevitable pained pang in my gut that comes every time I revisit our last encounter. But it gets drowned out by my sudden yawn as a wave of tiredness washes over me.
‘Since we were eight years old, actually,’ he says. ‘I think about that last round a lot. And how you seem toreallyhate me now.’
The car swerves violently around a corner and it takes all my strength to keep my body rigid, leaving me with no strength to sit upright again. I let myself go limp, but it’s fine because Aiden is there, his arm like a solid, toned pillow.
‘Because you’re the worst!’ My exclamation is muffled by his shirt.
I let my head sink lower as another yawn takes over my body. My stomach grinds to a halt, eyelids growing uncontrollably heavy. I let them fall, first for a moment and then for a while longer as a light tingling sensation spreads around my body. Aiden’s saying something, I can feel the bass of his voice vibrate through me, but I can’t register any of the words. Only the feel of his chest, rising and falling underneath my head, as I drift off to sleep.
Nudge 12
The Lie
