‘Wow.’ He shakes his head. ‘You’re actually really hurtful sometimes, do you know that?’
‘I’mhurtful?’ I gasp. ‘You’re the one who is always picking holes in literally everything I say and do.’
He stares at me for the longest time after that, jaw clenched, eyes dark.
Then he bobs his head.
‘You’re right,’ says Callum, holding my gaze. The eye contact alone makes my heart smash against my chest. ‘I can’t put my finger on it, but I do sometimes end up saying things that I wish Ihadn’t said to you. There’s something about the way I react to you.’ He pauses, sighs. ‘I am sorry about that.’
An apology? From Lord Voldemort? Well, blow me down! I’m so confused that my mouth is dangling open as I glare over at Callum Bang. I was fully expecting some kind of retort. I’d even been considering the world’s tiniest apology myself, because he’s right about the whole hurtful thing. I too cannot help it. But now I find myself speechless, utterly gobsmacked.
‘I … er, thank you,’ I manage, graciously accepting the apology.
The corners of his mouth have pulled up ever so slightly, like he’s suppressing a smile.
‘You’re welcome,’ he says, gaze still pinning me to the spot. And I know that he’s waiting for an apology in return. I was about to offer one, for goodness’ sake! But I cannot do it. I cannot be the bigger person because I’mexhaustedfrom this endless Monday. The reappearance of the one that got away. My extremely confusing physical reaction to the presence of Callum Bang, arch nemesis and beautiful human being. The fact that my brain feels utterly fried as I try to figure a way out of this ridiculous time-loop situation I seem to have got myself into. Coupled with the knowledge that it doesn’t massively matter, really, if I apologise to Callum or not. I’ve spent my whole life doing things by the book, pleasing people, and look where it’s got me! Chances are that I’ll find myself living this day all over again, so maybe just this once I can be stubborn. I can allow myself to act like a bit of a dick without giving myself too much of a hard time. Just this once.
Callum’s still watching me evidently grappling with his apology. He looks like a hungry man sizing up his lunch options.
This doesn’t help my fragile state of mind. Why, on top of everything, does he have to look so good? It’s all just too much. I decide there and then that today is not the day I put my rivalry with Callum Bang aside via a well-timed apology. I just can’t.
‘Best wishes,’ I say eventually, apparently now reduced down toSchitt’s Creekreferences.
‘Warmest regards,’ he fires back.
Somewhere in the pit of my stomach, amid all the confusion and stress, a warm ember glows. If there’s one thing to be said in favour of Callum Bang, then his understanding of my kind of film and TV references is it.
We’re eyeing each other a little less warily now. The corners of my mouth have turned up involuntarily.
‘Can I just say, for the record,’ Callum begins, his voice low. ‘I am not who you think I am.’
‘You mean, you’renotHades himself?’ I pretend to clutch at my chest. It’s probably way too soon to start poking fun at Callum, what with his recent apology and all. But, you know, YOLO. Or in my case, You Only Live One Monday On Repeat. So, YOLOMOR? Don’t blame me, blame both time and Einstein.
‘What will the rest of the gods have to say about this rejection?’ I ask.
‘Hades, the king of the underworld?’ Callum clarifies. ‘That’s real charming of you, Moss. There I was hoping we might have stumbled upon a ceasefire, and here you are, firing shots.’
‘Take cover,’ I reply.
‘Excellent advice. But for some reason, where you’re concerned, I just stand here and take it.’
‘Seems to me like you give as good as you get.’
‘Maybe, but at least I’ve apologized.’
I narrow my eyes at him. He does have a point.
‘You were going to tell me something.’ I change tack.
Callum pushes his hair off his forehead. ‘I just wanted you to know that I’m not the privileged kid you think I am. I don’t walk into jobs without any hassle, I don’t fly business “all the time”.’
He leans forward so his elbows rest on his knees, head tilted sideways as he looks straight at me. It’s all I can do not to stare at those ridiculous forearms.
‘We didn’t have much, growing up,’ Callum says. ‘My mum raised me and my sister alone, working two jobs just so that wecould have the heating on in the winter. As soon as I was old enough, I was working too. Turned out I was pretty smart, and not bad at sports, so I got a scholarship to a private school where me and my North London accent stuck out like a sore thumb.’
Callum pauses to glance around the cabin before his gaze finds mine again.
I realise I’m holding my breath as I listen to him.
