“She’s not talking to you. So why don’t you just f-off and leave her alone?”
He turned to the teenagers again. “Because it’s raining, she’s missed the last bus—as have you all—and she’s my friend.”
They all looked back at Amber. How come it all sounded so rational coming from his lips?
“Is that right, Amber? Is this guy your friend?”
“Hang on a minute,” said Etta. “I thought you looked familiar, you’re that serious guy who came to Belendroit. Amber’s friend.”
He gave Etta a cursory nod before turning back to Amber.
“Was. Was my friend. Not anymore. Not since he was a bastard to me.”
“Jeez, man,” said another teenager. “How could you be mean to Amber?”
“You know Amber?” asked David.
David looked from the kids to Amber, then back to the kids.
“Yeah, of course. We watch out for each other round here. And you’re not from round here, are you?” said one of the larger kids, stepping closer to David.
“No, no, I’m not. And you know? I’m glad you’re looking out for her. But then so am I. Look, how about I give you all a lift back to Akaroa? I’ll drop Amber off first, then the rest of you. How about that?”
There were nods of approval from a few of them, and within seconds three of them had returned to the car, and were peering in the windows, exclaiming as to its luxury.
“Amber,” said David. “Please, come on. I just want to see you home safe.”
She licked her lips and shivers racked her body. “Well, I guess if they come with me it’ll be all right. Because I have no intention of talking to you.”
“You’re talking to me now.”
“Only a little.”
He held out his hand, which she didn’t take. She rose and walked over to the children. She could hear his leather-clad shoes clipping cleanly through the puddles, while her soft shoes were already soaked, and her feet freezing.
He unclicked the door and before he could say anything Amber had jumped in the rear seat with Etta and another girl, while the boy happily took the front seat, and immediately began touching the controls.
“Don’t touch that,” David said firmly. The boy agreed without comment as he stretched out in the car, one arm hooked over the back of the seat as he angled himself to the rear, while still running his fingers over the controls in the door.
“So, David,” he said cheekily, “what do you want with Amber?”
Amber saw the muscle in David’s cheek flicker, reflecting a struggle which she knew would be between telling the teenager exactly where he could go, and fitting in with them for her sake.
“To apologize,” he said, his foot suddenly flat against the boards as he overtook a car. The kids whooped at the sudden speed and made gestures at the car they overtook, which Amber tried to stop. She didn’t succeed.
“Go on, then,” said Etta, from next to Amber.
Again, the flicker. “I’m sorry, Amber.”
Amber continued to look stonily out the window, down which the rain wept as she wanted to.
Etta nudged Amber. Amber shot her a dirty look, which made Etta’s eyes widen. “Aren’t you going to accept?”
“You don’t just accept apologies if they’re given. It’s not something you have to do automatically.” She shot a black look to David’s reflection in the rear-view mirror. His frown deepened.
“What did you do to upset Amber, David?” Etta glanced at Amber. “She seems pretty pissed with you.”
“Yes, she is, and I understand why, and I’m sorry.”
