‘I think I’m just bitter they didn’t have to go in the lake as well. They should smell too. It’s only fair,’ he mutters.
I snort. ‘I’m starting to get the impression that you feel you didn’t get enough praise for going in the lake. Would you like me to get on my knees and thank you? Would you like a crown?’ I can’t escape the smile growing on my face. It’s just so easy to tease him.
‘No, thank you,’ he says flatly.
‘Are you afraid it will ruin your hair? You don’t want to mess with all that product.’
I silently curse myself for bringing his perfect hair into the conversation.
He frowns. ‘I don’t use any hair product.’
‘Oh, piss off,’ I scoff in outrage. The words leap out of my mouth before I even know they’re coming.
He laughs loudly in surprise. ‘Sorry?’
I avoid his eyes. ‘Uh – sorry, I think I bear a deep resentment for people who have perfect-looking hair with little to no effort. It’s annoying.’ I point to my own frizzy curls for emphasis, and mentally berate myself for acknowledging his perfect-looking hair to his face. Stop fucking complimenting him!
‘No point in getting a crown anyway,’ he says. ‘It won’t match up to yours.’
‘Ha ha,’ I say dully.
‘What? I like the tiara.’
‘Really? I thought you found it silly,’ I say with an edge of suspicion.
‘No, I don’t. It suits you.’ He says it confidently, without a trace of humour or mockery. I try to keep my voice light in response.
‘Oh. Thanks.’
Christ. This guy has made me feel just about every emotion under the sun since we met. Adayago. That must deserve some kind of medal.
18
The Jungle area, I’m delighted to report, meets all of my expectations. As one of the areas that is intended for party-goers to visit dayandnight, it has a lively atmosphere, just as promised. And even more people dancing. Huge fake palm trees are placed around randomly, with smaller dance venues and stages nestled in between them.
I spot a cosy wooden shack covered in bundles of fairy lights; a large sign stands next to it with neon green and blue lettering spelling outRolo’s. People loiter around tables crafted haphazardly out of blocks of wood and piles of old crates, swaying to the music and sipping drinks out of multicoloured glasses with long, twisted straws.
I see Josh and Owen already at the bar nodding their heads along to the beat. I assumed we’d be the last, so I’m unnerved to see that Hennie hasn’t made it back yet.
‘Ahoy!’ Josh calls, beckoning us over to join them. ‘Mission successful? You’re definitely alone?’
‘Yep. Pretty sure we lost them,’ Elliot replies.
‘I knew they’d go after you two. I saw them follow you the second we split,’ Owen says.
Elliot’s eyes cut to me with a teasing look. ‘Probably the tiara giving you away as the mega fan.’
I narrow my eyes at him. ‘I thought we just established that you liked it.’
‘I don’t recall saying I disliked it.’
Owen watching us with a knowing smirk makes me shift away from Elliot a little.
‘Where’s Hennie?’ I ask.
‘Not a clue, angel,’ Josh says through a mouthful of a bright blue sweet. ‘Lost her immediately, she is absolutely minuscule. Do you want a drink?’
‘We’re getting Waterfalls. Rolo’s specialty.’ Owen gestures at a group next to us, all of whom are holding tall glasses with an alarmingly bright green concoction.
