The idea makes me snort with laughter, and it feels so good to release the tension without crying that I do it again.
The bus arrives shortly afterward, this time heading for home, a destination that fills me with a lot more comfort than the last one.
If Finley’s cleared her junk out of the lounge, perhaps it’s time I sat down to have a talk with her and Lily about what’s been happening. Clue them in since if someone’s targeting me, they’ll be in the crossfire through no fault of their own.
Or not. Right now, I can’t imagine initiating that conversation and it’s just a card. Not a knife or a bullet.
Everything’s going to be okay.
CHAPTEREIGHT
TRENT
I arrivefor my afternoon shift at Stefan’s club with only a few minutes to spare. My morning was taken up with a rugby game, just a friendly with another school, but I lost my temper a few minutes into the second half and spent the rest of the game trying to keep myself in check rather than looking for opportunities.
Usually, I’d have joined my teammates in the clubrooms after, celebrating with a pint—even if mine’s more likely to be water than whatever lager is on tap.
Today I didn’t bother. Rather than risk the already straining tensions within the team, I opted to run sprints, wearing myself to the point of exhaustion, hoping that would be enough to catapult me back into equilibrium.
It didn’t.
At work, it’s my turn for the entrance doors, which is the same boredom level as any door inside the venue, but with extra razzamatazz to ensure the wealthy patrons aren’t offended when they first rock up to the entrance.
I’d welcome the opportunity to flex my muscles, to give any troublemakers a taste of their own medicine, but it’s unlikely.
There hasn’t been trouble at this establishment, not for ages. The first few months I was in this job, there’d be a beat down at least once a week. Now, it’s close on twelve weeks since the last time I got to throw a punch, longer since the last time I stuck my boot in.
It’s not that I’m ignorant of what my key role is—appear tough so anyone looking for trouble gives the place a wide berth or wisely holds their counsel. But when you get used to the fringe benefits, it’s hard when they go AWOL.
Maybe it’ll pick up again in summer. It could be the warm weather is the tipping point that plunges a bout of aggression into a confrontation. If so, let’s hope global warming gets its arse into gear because I could use anything it gives me right now.
I’m looking forward to at least catching up with Lily, but when I’m halfway to the changing rooms, Stefan calls me into his office. “She’s off work for a few days. Something to do with being appointed her sister’s guardian.”
Great news for her.
There’s the momentary warmth of something working out for someone close to me, soon lost in another rush of frustration. My friend had something wonderful happen, and I found out through our shared boss.
Just in case I’m aggrieved for no good reason, I check my messages. Perhaps one snuck through and I didn’t register?
Nope. Nothing to report.
I’m just as bad, immediately tucking my phone away instead of sending her and Zach a quick note of congratulations.
If I remember, I’ll try to do it later. Later when I feel less like a third wheel to everyone in the universe.
After work, I shoot off a text but I’m still out of sorts. If it’s this bad now, what’ll it be like next year when school’s over and we all scatter? I don’t even know if I’m going to university or Polytech or trying to find a full-time job elsewhere or increasing the hours I work for Stefan.
Panic seizes me, clenching my chest in a fist that grows tighter and tighter.
I had been heading home but I change course, heading for Rosa’s flat. She won’t have changed her mind, not given how firm she was, but also… she might. Either way, I want to see her again.
It seems unlikely we could become friends after such a disastrous start but suddenly that’s what I want most in the world. Well… second most. I’d still prefer my first request, but I’ll happily settle for seeing her, chatting with her, laughing with her.
Something good and bright and clean to end off the day.
Since Lily lives there, too, I can drop in and give my congratulations in person. That’ll be so much nicer than the toneless text I’ve already sent.
After diverting to collect a cake, because it’d be rude to turn up empty-handed, I pull up beside the curb across the street. Then I sit there, staring at the lit windows, shadows moving behind the thin curtains the only sign that’s someone’s at home. Any sense of urgency immediately dissolves, and I relax, remembering the interaction with Rosa yesterday.
