‘Because I’m being sent on more modelling gigs, I’m earning good money and I’m actually quite good at it.’
‘Wearing clothes in catalogues and having your photo taken?Please.’
‘Fuck off,’ I tell him.
‘It’s a swimwear shoot in Thailand next,’ Ben says, looking at me proudly and trying to be helpful. But it only angers Ollie more.
‘Oh, I’m sorry, wearinghardly anyclothes in catalogues and having your photo taken,’ he says.
‘Piss off, Ollie,’ I exclaim.
‘Fine,’ he replies, gathering his rucksack. He leaves the kitchen and I hear him stomp up the stairs.
Ben and I remain silent. He clearly doesn’t know what to say and turns back to the noodles and sauce. ‘Shall we bin this lot and get pizza?’
‘No, I can’t,’ I say regretfully. ‘I’ve got to eat fairly clean this week for the swimwear shoot.’
I can’t believe the words coming out of my mouth these days. I’ve becomethatperson we all love to hate. I’d dwell more on this, only I’m now feeling really uncertain about my decision. And I think I might hate Ollie.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Ollie’s been avoiding me this past week. Leaving rooms when I walk in has been his speciality. It’s only when I’m sleeping back in my own bedroom rather than in with Ben – because I’ve got an early flight to Thailand and don’t want to wake my boyfriend – that I get a knock at my door just after my alarm goes off at 5 a.m.
‘Come in?’
‘Hi,’ Ollie says, still in his pyjama bottoms and a T-shirt. ‘Am I all right to …’ He gestures inside my room.
I’m in my dressing gown, getting ready to shower. ‘Yeah, come in.’ I’m not sure I hate him any more. I’m not sure what I feel towards him. I’m wary. Ollie’s going to lay into me again, isn’t he?
I watch him curiously as he looks around my room in the light of the dim table lamp, although he’s been in and out of here loads, borrowing something or delivering me a cup of tea so many times. He can be really kind. He can also be an interfering twat.
I sit on my bed and wait for him to say something. He pushes the door so that it remains ajar.
‘I don’t want to wake either of them.’ He nods his head in the direction of Ben’s and Liv’s rooms.
‘Wise,’ I say to fill the silence. ‘Was my alarm too loud? Did I wake you?’
‘No. But I wanted to see you before you went. Can I sit down?’
‘Is that why you’re up so early? Did you set your alarm?’ I pat the edge of the bed and he sits near me.
He yawns. Nods. ‘I’ll have to get used to getting up early if I’m going to be a doctor.’
‘Youaregoing to be a doctor.’ This should feel so much more awkward than it does. Small talk to fill the void before … before I don’t know what.
He yawns again, not quite here. ‘Yeah.’
I wait.
His eyes meet mine. ‘Don’t leave,’ he says simply.
‘Don’t leave to go to the airport or don’t leave uni?’
He takes a deep breath. ‘For your long-term future, I don’t think you should leave university. That’s it. I couldn’t articulate a reason before. I’m articulating it now. You haven’t got long left. You’ve thrown away so much money being here and—’
I cut in. ‘And spending any more is just good money after bad, right?’
‘No,’ he says. ‘Don’t be clever. You’re putting words in my mouth. There’s nothing more to it than this: if you leave, you’ve wasted all that time and money. Even if you get a third, you’ve got a degree. It’s something on your CV, to ready you for whatever comes next. If you leave, you’ll have nothing – literally nothing to put on your CV. Nothing to help you get a job.’
