Jenny’s always said I have STDs. Part of me wants to ask if she’s revealing a little too much about herself, but the rest of me is leaving. Returning to the time when I was a greasy, ugly freak. I feel the phantom flute case in my hand, my baggy school jumper hanging off my tits, making me look like a fridge. Then a warm arm closes around me.
“Jenny, stop using STDs as a weird value judgment,” Cece snaps. “You’re the worst consequence of sex in this place. No one wants you here. Why don’t you just fucking leave?”
Jenny scowls. “I can’t believe how horrible you are being to me right now. Your brother is going to be so sad when I?—”
“I don’t care what you tell Tristan. Now get out.”
“Fine.” Jenny taps her nails on the bar. “But before I do, I want to say that neither of you should come to the reunion this weekend.”
“Fuck off,” Cece and I say in unison. We look at one another, and despite everything, I find myself smiling. Cece is doing the same, and we turn, as one, to face Jenny.
“Addy?” Cece says in a loud conversational tone. “Did you know Jake told me he thinks Jenny’s nuttier than almond milk and he wishes he’d jizzed into an old rag instead of sleeping with her?”
“I didn’t! Did you know that her ex-husband has been sending you flowers?”
Cece gasps. “What flowers? Those flowers?” She turns and points to Will’s latest arrangement.
Jenny looks like someone threw sand in her eyes. “You’re lying.”
“About what?” I enquire, pulling Cece tighter into my side. “Coming to the reunion? Not at all. We’ll be there with bells on.Unless you want to ban us? But I wouldn’t recommend it, because if you do, I’ll file a complaint with the school board.”
“You can’t,” Jenny snaps.
“Oh, I can. I’ll chase you all the way to court if I have to. I’ve got nothing but time and shitloads of money. I’ll make your life fuckingtedious.”
Jenny’s face contorts, and she points a pink claw at Cece. “Stay away from Will.”
“No,” Cece says bluntly.
Jenny’s mouth twitches, and she clutches her shitty purse and stomps to the door. I watch her go, relieved. I didn’t expect her to give up that easily, but all things considered, it could have been worse. Cece wraps me in a big hug. We’ve always been the perfect hugging height, my head nestled between her boobs, her arms around my back.
“Jesus,” she mutters. “I’ve forgotten how terrifying she is up close.”
“Right?” I mumble into her tits. “What’s she even doing in Auckland? She can’t have driven up just for five minutes of bullshit?”
“Who cares? Are you okay? Why do you have Jake’s jersey? Are you going to burn it? I’ve got some petrol in a can out back?”
“No,” I say, withdrawing from the hug. “Jake wants it. The jersey, I mean. I’m supposed to be meeting him for coffee, like… now.”
“Want me to come with you?”
I smile at her. “Nah. He’s probably entitled to an exit interview. This way it won’t happen at the reunion.”
Cece looks even more concerned.
“It’s okay,” I say, and I mean it. Seeing Jenny again has put fresh steel in my spine. “I’ll get this over with and come back. We’ll head to Pukekohe as soon as you’re ready. Don’t worry about me.”
“I can’t help it,” Cece whispers. “It’s scary things are already this dramatic.”
“We can handle it.” I raise my forearm, and Cece bumps her ivy tattoo against mine.
Davis clears his throat. His facelooks like it could curdle milk. I’d bet my right hand he’s pissed about me bringing up Will Sharpe. Pointing out his latest flower delivery. Davis watched it arrive two days ago, and ever since, he’s been radiating ‘I’m about to punch a hole in the wall’ energy. I watch as he turns and strides into the kitchen. I want to follow him and say something reassuring, but I’m probably the last person he wants to talk to right now. Besides, I’ve got enough chaos on my plate right now without playing camp counsellor. I make an internal promise to give Davis a shoulder to cry on whenever I get back, and head out into the street and whatever fresh hell awaits at Café Ortolana.
17
Ada
Jake’s seated when I walk in, elbows on the table, one big hand wrapped around a takeaway coffee. He’s picked the booth I would’ve chosen, the back right corner, tucked away in the shadows. It could be a coincidence, but I doubt it. He always noticed things. Arranged the world to make it easier for me. It doesn’t change a thing. Just makes it worse.
