‘Sometimes I sing along, too.’
His smirk twists into a grin. ‘I’m looking forward to hearing that, actually.’
‘Good.’
‘Your sleep habits are… among the most interesting I’ve heard.’
They are also totally false, of course. But I must play the game.
‘Do you have any horrifying habits I should know about now? Any satanic nightly rituals or embarrassing phone calls I need to endure?’ I imagine him making kissy sounds with a girlfriend on the phone and instantly wish for a painless death.
He presses his lips together and furrows his brow in thought for a moment. ‘Nope. Guess I lack character.’
I can’t help but frown. ‘Not sure about that. I’ve already told you how unreasonable you are. That’s character.’
‘Hey.’ His face truly lights up when he smiles and I can’t stop myself from returning it. ‘Thanks, princess.’
‘I’m nothing if not honest.’
‘Yeah, I’ve noticed,’ he says. ‘I’m not sure I’m used to being around people who are so brutal. I think it’s quickly becoming my favourite thing about you.’
‘Careful,’ I scoff. ‘That would imply there are multiple things you like about me.’
‘Would that be so hard to believe?’
‘Coming from you? Thescowler?’
‘I don’t scowl,’ he says, hilariously, with a scowl.
‘Sure.’ I bite back a grin.
The following silence that falls feels more manageable, less hideously awkward.
I take another sip of my drink and figure I might as well ask the question.
‘So… whydoyou want this so much?’ I ask, my eyes flicking to the drumstick.
He hesitates, watching people passing by the tent outside.
‘Does it matter?’ he says, eventually turning back to me.
‘Well, I suppose it doesn’t. Technically. But I am curious. I gushed about how much I love the band and would kill to keep this thing, yet I don’t remember you saying why you were so desperate.’
He purses his lips slightly, thinking.
I raise my eyebrows a fraction, inviting him to speak.
‘Alright,’ he says with a harsh exhale, as if he’s come to a decision. ‘I have a feeling you’re probably not going to like this.’
‘Oh, goodie,’ I say, wiggling my bum further into the beanbag to get comfortable.
‘Okay, the stick… it’s not – it isn’t actually for me.’
I freeze.
What?
What??
