‘Looks like neither of us are going to back down, then?’ he asks gruffly.
‘I don’t think so,’ I whisper, my eyes flicking down to his lips as I feel the light tingle of his breath on mine. I stamp down on the guilt that erupts at the idea that I’m taking something so precious from a boy I’ve never met. I immediately can’t help but feel a kinship with him, knowing he loves Queen Ego the way I do.
He looks away and clears his throat.
‘Didn’t think so,’ he says with a hint of frustration. ‘Looks like we’re in this for the long haul.’
‘Yep, sorry.’ I roll my eyes.
He lets out a long sigh.
I know it’s likely that he’s counting down the minutes – the seconds – until he can be free of this situation. Of me. It’s not lost on me that Elliot being stuck in his tent with me wasn’t exactly on his list of dream situations.
But he could try to tolerate it with a little more grace.
I give his arm a comforting pat. ‘You’ll survive, champ. Chin up.’
12
SATURDAY
An unfamiliar smell invades my senses as I rub the grit out of my eyes: the musky, unmistakable scent ofman.
I open my eyes to see a messy halo of dark hair centimetres from my face.
Reeling away from him, I feel my hand instinctively fly to my chaotic and sleep-disturbed fringe in an attempt to flatten it. It looks deranged in the morning, and I desperately wish for a mirror. Oranyof my make-up.
I slowly turn to check my phone for the time so as not to disturb him. Nine-sixteen a.m. I haven’t missed Hennie’s call time, thank God. There will be no hell to pay this morning.
Sunlight filters through the dark roof of the tent; it’s horribly humid in here already. I can feel my body clammy with sweat underneath Elliot’s hoodie.
He lies completely still, facing away from me. After trying to rearrange my fringe one more time, I reach over to gently nudge his shoulder.
No movement.
I grasp him a little more tightly and give him a light shake.
Nothing.
Crikey. He’s a heavy sleeper. I’m envious of his ability to sleep through noise. The morning chatter of the campers around us begins to grow louder.
‘Hey,’ I whisper.
Just as I’m about to say his name, I notice his frame jolt before turning completely still. His head lifts off the pillow and he looks over his shoulder to take me in, his eyes disbelieving.
‘Morning,’ I murmur, as I run my fingers through my hair hesitantly.
He just stares at me with slightly wide, bleary eyes before blinking hard and running his hands across his face.
‘Morning,’ he grumbles.
I can’t resist giving him an overly-sympathetic look. ‘Yeah, I know. It was all real I’m afraid. Did you sleep well?’ I ask, with maybe a little too much enthusiasm.
‘Yeah, fine.’ He sighs and sits up slowly before stretching his arms behind his head, revealing a small sliver of his back underneath his top. I force my eyes back up to his no-longer-perfect hair.
‘You’re not very talkative in the morning, are you?’ I prompt.
‘No.’
