“Gregariousness?”
“Someone sociable, who likes people,” I explain.
“I’m using that word in my essay,” he says with a grin.
“Okay,” I say, feeling relieved at the sight of his smile. I stand up and move to my normal seat.
I set up the timer for another block of studying, but before I press start, I look up at Noah.
“You can start it,” he says. “Eve?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks. That was … helpful.”
“Of course,” I say.
“Maybe your back up job could be motivational speaking.”
“Ha,” I say, rolling my eyes before I start the timer.
Through the window, the sky changes from dark blue to deep navy. We memorise quotes, practice planning essays to prompts, discuss the important aspects of the play and go through the mechanics of writing a great essay. I search Noah’s pantry for something sweet to snack on, but Noah’s family is super healthy, so I find nothing.
Noah suggests going to the 24-hour supermarket nearby, saying he could use a break and some chocolate would be a reward for studying. The problem is that the closest supermarket is a fair walk, and neither of us wants to walk in the dark anyway, so Noah goes to Ben’s room to ask if he’s able to drive us.
Soon he returns with Ben in tow. Ben’s hair is a little dishevelled, and he’s rubbing his eyes, but he leads us to his car, muttering, “the things I do for Noah’s education.”
“You win brother of the year,” Noah told him.
Only when we arrive at the supermarket, do Noah and I realise we look like we’re homeless people wearing ratty pyjamas.
“It’s okay,” I say. “We won’t run into anyone we know. It’s nearly eleven.”
Inside, the supermarket lights are icy white. I get goosebumps from the cold air as we walk past rainbow displays of produce. The radio plays in the background, but other than that, the supermarket is quiet.
We make our way to the chocolate and sweets aisle, bickering over what we should get before deciding on two blocks of chocolate — fruits and nuts for Noah and mint for me.
We’re heading to the checkout when Noah freezes. I crash into his shoulder.
“Ow,” I saw, pressing a hand to my cheek.
“I think that’s …” Noah begins, looking ahead.
I follow his gaze to the fruit section. Two guys are looking at the limes, dressed head to toe in sportswear. Then they turn around.
“Noah?” Kaito asks. “Hey man, what are you doing here?”
The pair of them walk over, their arms outstretched. Declan says, “I thought we were the only ones that would be here right now.”
They hug Noah — if you can call it that. It’s one of those bro-hugs where they pat his back. They turn to me and I give them an awkward smile. “Hi.”
“And Knightly’s here too! I thought you were a goody-two shoes. What are you doing up when we have school tomorrow?” Declan asks.
“We’re getting snacks,” I answer, holding up my block of chocolate.
“Why do you need food at eleven at night?” Kaito asks.
Noah clears his throat. “We were hungry and you know my mum. Nothing unhealthy in the house. What are you doing here?”
