‘Yeah.’ Amy hiccuped again, then pouted.‘I got a forty-five and a shovel.I doubt anyone would miss you.’
I stifled a giggle.Amy was steaming drunk but still managed to quoteClueless. She was an encyclopedia for any form of entertainment with a whiff of a romantic subplot.The girls dissolved into laughter, then wandered off to bed in a chorus of yawns and whispered good nights, leaving Ren and me alone in front of the dying fire.
‘Thank you.For tonight.’
‘You’re thankingme?’ My brow furrowed.He’d just been at our beck and call for hours.Gen almost got him to give us foot rubs, but I drew the line there.
‘I know it was meant to be some sort of public humiliation, but you let me earn my keep.I already felt bad enough being the only bloke on this trip—’
Our eyes met.The fire crackled between us.
‘And it was nice,’ he smiled, that irritatingly tentative, soft smile.‘Seeing you have fun.Letting yourself go.I like being your victim, Sunshine.You can use me however you want to.’
Use me.
My face couldn’t help but flush.Ren didn’t look away and neither did I and I realised how close we were sitting.Not touching, but I could feel the heat radiate from his thighs to mine.His eyes flickered around my face, then lingered a beat too long on my lips.It was just a second but long enough for me to clock it.Long enough for it to feel like a caress.
Then a log cracked loudly.I jumped, and stood.Ren did the same, still looking at me with that searching expression.
I cleared my throat, laughing lightly.‘Right.I better sleep off these cocktails.’ Hoping I came across unflustered.Unbothered.
I brushed off my leggings, heading for my tent.
‘Night, Lydia.’
Chapter Nine
Lydia’s Diary, 12 Years Old
Dear Diary,
I’ve been at this school for a few months now and Ihatemaths.My teacher, Mr Nichols, is an old dragon.His breath smells like stale coffee, and he shouts at me when I can’t do my times tables.He says I should know them all by now, like it’sso obvious.He keeps telling me I can do better, but wouldn’t I already be doing it if I could?He scribbles all over my work in red pen, and I HATE it.
Numbers don’t make sense in my head.Fractions are a nightmare.And double maths on Mondays?As if Mondays weren’t already bad enough.
That’s why I skipped double maths a few weeks ago and hid in the toilets until it was over.It worked – until lunchtime, when Mrs MacDonald found me.She is the gym teacher, and was actually nice.
She didn’t shout at me, but let me help with year seven netball.Then, she said that I could be a good coach one day.The bad part was that she insisted I go see the Head of Year, Mrs Smith.But I didn’t want to disappoint Mrs MacDonald, so I went.
Mrs Smith sat me down, and suddenly, everything just… came out.
How I’m rubbish at maths.How I don’t see the point in even trying.It’s not as if I’m going toneedmaths.I’d rather just avoid numbers for the rest of my life.Ren said he would help – he doesn’t mind numbers, so he said he’d do them for me.I don’t know if he was joking, but I might take him up on it.
But Mrs Smith actually listened.She said she thought I might have something called dyscalculia.Mum’s booked me in for a test in a few weeks.She said it’s expensive, so she really hopes Mrs Smith is right – or else she’s marching down to the school to demand they pay for it.
Honestly?I kind of hope Mrs Smithisright.Because if there’s a reason why I find maths impossible, maybe – just maybe – it’s not all my fault.
Love,
Lydia
Lydia
A bird squawked in the early hours, startling me awake.For a moment I forgot where I was, and then it all came rushing back.I took some deep breaths, calming my nerves.My hair smelled of smoke, and I found the smell strangely soothing.My heart rate slowed, so I checked my phone and spotted a missed call from a random number.Suspected spam.
Who the hell makes phone calls these days?Probably people I owe money to and that could wait until I found a decent job.
I listened for snores or murmurs but couldn’t hear anything, besides the odd noise of birds.In fact, the campsite is eerily quiet.I groan when my bladder shouts – no, screams – at me.I drank a lot of water after the hike up Mam Tor yesterday.Along with Ren’s cocktails, that was a deadly combination and I was paying for it now.
