“I don’t know about squirrels, but I did get compared to a dolphin down at Bondi Icebergs earlier today. I’m back training every day.”
“Icebergs? But you hate the ocean! You’ve never once been to the beach, even in the middle of summer. Even when I begged you to come.” Kat frowned in confusion.
“Maybe I changed my mind,” I said breezily, reaching for her other foot. “And it’s great for conditioning, cardiovascular health, the immune sys?—”
“Okay, I don’t need a lecture on the benefits, Miss Bachelor of Sports Science. Just let me have my sulk that you’re turning into a stranger in front of my eyes.”
Guilt crept up from my stomach, gripping me by the throat. I didn’t want to make more excuses for myself to her. That wasn’t going to change the fact that I was keeping some major secrets from her.
“Have you readThe Hunger Games?” I asked instead.
“Are you seriously going to change the subject on me like that?” Kat demanded. I put the finishing touches on her little toe, refusing to answer.
She sighed. “Fine, I’ll play along. Yes, I’ve readThe Hunger Games. Why?”
“I think I should read it, but you know what I’m like with reading in English.”
Kat got up, returning to the table with the bottle of vodka and pouring me a good slug. “Or reading for enjoyment, full stop. Is there a reason you’re suddenly keen to delve into dystopian fiction? Or is that a secret, too?”
I tapped the side of my nose, because I couldn’t bring myself to admit that it was another thing I wasn’t prepared to share with her. Yet.
“Well, why don’t you try the audiobook? Or the movie might be more your speed? It’s pretty true to the book, from what I remember.”
“Ooooh!” I sat up straight, grinning. “Movie night! Is the ReelFlix subscription still paid up?”
Kat nodded, grabbing the remote and finding the movie in the ReelFlix catalogue. I scurried to the kitchen, scrounging through the pantry until I came up with an only slightly past its best-before date packet of microwave popcorn.
Was it cheating, to watch the movie instead of reading the book? Yes, but only a little. At least I could connect with Henry over the story if I had some understanding of it.
I settled in on the lounge next to Kat, to do my little bit of cheating.
“Catnip,” the dark-haired boy-man on the screen said, and I blinked.
“Hey that’s what Hen—” I snapped my jaw shut as the two characters—a young man and woman—argued, and bantered, and talked about reapings and peacekeepers and other terms that made no sense to me.
“What?” Kat asked, shoving popcorn into her mouth. “Are you still on about the chicken in your brain?”
“Something like that,” I muttered, shrinking into the lounge cushion.
I wracked my brain to remember what he’d written in the copy he’d gifted me. Something about Gale—the boy on the screen now, and someone else? He’d said he wasn’t like Gale, more like …
“Is this Gale dude like the romantic interest for this Katniss chick?” I asked, casually reaching for the popcorn.
Kat shook her head, a hint of a smile on her lips. “You’ll meet Peeta soon.”
Peeta! That was him!
“So … What’s special about Peeta?”
Kat’s smirk widened, and she nudged me with her elbow. “Just keep watching.”
I shoved a handful of popcorn into my mouth and did what I was told.
“So, Team Gale or Team Peeta?” Kat asked as the credits rolled, eyeing me over the last dregs of her glass of vodka and cucumber water. “And don’t be shallow and say Gale because he’s obviously the hotter one.”
I glared at her. “I amnotshallow!” I nudged her with my sock-clad toe. A few months ago, I might have done just that—said Gale simply because he was the one I’d prefer to be kicking out of my bed after a delightfully sticky romp.
But now …
