“You’re about two inches off the ground.”
“That’s still falling distance.”
“Just let go.”
“You’re enjoying this.”
“Immensely.”
She scoffs. “You’re the worst.”
“Possibly.”
She finally releases the window frame and drops the last few inches. I catch her automatically. She turns and her arms land around my shoulders as her feet hit the ground, our bodies suddenly very close together in the dark. For a second neither of us moves. Freya looks up at me.
“You absolutely watched my bum while I climbed out that window,” she says.
I grin. “I’m not denying that.”
“Unbelievable.”
“You could have just jumped.”
“That would have been less dignified.”
“You were halfway through a pub window, Freya. Dignity had already left the building.”
She laughs again, still holding onto my shoulders. “You are such a child.”
“You agreed to the plan.”
“That’s because you are a terrible influence.”
“Probably true.”
Neither of us steps back straight away. The night air is cool around us, the pub glowing warmly behind us through the open window. Inside, the muffled noise of the crowd continues completely unaware that two fully grown adults have just escaped like fugitives.
Freya glances back at the window. “Clara is going to murder us.”
“She’ll survive.”
“She absolutely won’t.”
“She’ll just assume we went somewhere together.”
Freya pauses. Then looks back at me slowly. “Which… we did.”
“Technically.”
Her smile softens slightly. “Well,” she says. “That was surprisingly fun.”
“See? Excellent decision.”
She brushes an imaginary speck of dust off her jeans. “Next time we leave through the door like normal adults.”
“Where’s the adventure in that?”
She tilts her head slightly, studying me. “You’re very pleased with yourself.”
