I wish I ran my fingers through that hair when I had the chance.
His eyes meet mine, and I flinch and look away. I busy myself with opening my school diary and writing in it, ignoring Curtis’s gaze that flits from me to Kieran.
*
“My parents were such bitches about studying the whole holidays. Like, they wouldn’t leave me alone about it. The course they want me to get into doesn’t even have that high of an entry score,” Fin says.
We guard the canteen’s front door, watching the line of students in front of us waiting to enter. Because so many students want to buy food at the canteen during lunchtime, we have to make sure only a few students go in at a time so it doesn’t get too crowded. Canteen duty, it’s called. The four of us school captains have a roster, splitting off into different pairs during the week. In theory, pairing with Fin should be fun, but half the time he doesn’t even show up.
Today, he did, and somehow I’m not very enthusiastic about it.
“Mm,” I say, throwing around a mandarin in my hands. Sure, the uni course he’s talking about isn’t as competitive as medicine or law. But Fin’s not the sharpest tool in the shed. Last year, I proofread his persuasive speech about why the government should eliminate all taxes and had to bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from throwing up laughing. Then again, he did say he’s been doing well at school this year…
“They also said that I can’t go too crazy with the car I choose,” Fin continues.
“The car?” I echo, using a free hand to stop kids entering the canteen. A group of Year 9 boys grumble.
“Yeah, they said if I get into the course, they’ll buy me a car. They said it has to be something reasonable, not too expensive or dangerous, but I’ll get my way…” Fin trails off, something catching his eye in the distance. He’s kind of like a bird because his attention is constantly catching on bright things. “Look,” he hisses to me.
In this case, not a bright thing, but a group of four girls nearing the front of the line. Trinity, Imogen, Kennedy and Zaina. Beside them with his blazer accentuating the lines of his shoulders is Kieran, who says something with a sardonic smile, and the girls cover their mouths as they laugh.
Hmph. As if Kieran’s actually funny.
“You can go in,” I say distractedly to the kids in the line.
“Have you noticed his only friends are those girls?” Fin says. “How gay.”
I turn to him, opening my mouth to say something, though I’m not sure what, when Fin leans over me and sticks his hand out like a stop sign. “Stop here,” he commands.
In front of us, Trinity, Imogen, and Kennedy are already inside the canteen. Zaina is halfway to the door, and behind her is Kieran. Any normal person would let them in and stop the people behind them, but of course, Fin stopped Kieran.
“Um,” Zaina says.
“You can go in,” I tell her.
But she walks back to join Kieran. He looks at her, then narrows his eyes at Fin and me, as if I’m to blame.
“Zaina,” Fin says, smiling at her. He turns to Kieran. “Phillips.”
“Dorian,” Kieran replies.
Fin exhales through his nose. He hates his first name. “How were your holidays? Go anywhere nice?”
“No, stayed home. You?” Zaina asks.
“Yeah, I went somewhere. Guess.”
Kieran looks away, his lips a flat line.
“Oh, I’m not sure. Melbourne?” Zaina asks.
“No, that’s boring. Somewhere nicer.”
“Somewhere in Queensland?” Zaina guesses again.
“Nope.” Fin grins at Kieran. “Any guesses, Phillips?”
“No,” Kieran says.
