And somehow, despite not being able to name it, Mattyhadunderstood.
Hadn’t she?
***
Breakfast was All-Bran with the last of the milk. She’d nicked a splash from Brandon’s milk for her tea—he wouldn’t notice, and half the time his milk went off anyway. Fair game, she figured, especially considering he regularly ponced ciggies off her when she had them, even though she didn’t smoke regularly.
But every now and then, when she could afford the luxury of going out, she’d treat herself to a pint or two and a pack of ciggies. If she was feeling particularly flush, that treat might stretch to include a small bag of weed.
She thought about the generous tip she’d got from Sloan the night before and wondered if maybe she’d be able to buy a couple of pre-rolled joints off Brandon. He always had something stashed.
Spooning the last mouthful, she chewed slowly and considered it.
It had been a while since she’d done anything fun. And she deserved a treat now and then, didn’t she?
She checked the time—just after ten. There was still plenty of time to shower and get ready for her next shift at Compton’s before moving on to Art.
Normally, she’d have thrown on whatever was clean, along with her staff T-shirt, but a thought crossed her mind and lodged there:What if Sloan showed up at Art again later?
And just like that, the lazy dressing plan was out the window.
Something deep inside her—something she still couldn’t quite name—wanted to impress Sloan, although she was sure a woman like Sloan had better options than a roller-skating hippie behind the bar.
She heard movement in the hall before Brandon wandered in, scratching himself and yawning like some cave dweller forced out of hibernation.
“Alright?” he grunted as he passed, flicking on the kettle without looking at her.
“Hey. You got anyweed?”
“A bit,” he said, pulling his milk out of the fridge and sniffing it suspiciously. She kept quiet, not bothering to tell him it was fine. “Why, you want some?”
“Just a couple of joints, you know.” She shrugged. “When I get paid, I’ll pay for them.”
He looked her over and nodded. “Sure, I can sort it. Let’s call it a fiver, yeah?”
Cheap at half the price,she thought. “Yeah, that’s fair.”
Silence settled between them while he made his tea, leaving the only sound just the clink of a spoon hitting ceramic each time he added yet another spoonful of sugar—more sugar than any set of teeth deserved.
Sarah, the final member of their flat-sharing trio, wandered in looking just as bad as Brandon.
“Morning,” Sarah mumbled, feeling the kettle and deciding it wasn’t hot enough. She flicked it back on again before opening the fridge and groaning.
“No milk?” Brandon said. Both he and Sarah looked at Matty’s now-empty bowl, but neither commented.
Sarah shook her head. “Can I nick some of yours?”
“Go on, then,” Brandon offered.
“Don’t forget rent is due next week,” Sarah reminded them.
“Yeah, I’m hoping my tips are good this week, otherwise it’ll be no milk for me.” Matty smiled, having only slightly exaggerated her financial situation.
“Yeah, we’re all in that boat.” Brandon shrugged. “I get my bonus this month, though, so that should see me through.”
Matty got up and took her bowl to the sink, washed it, and put it on the side to dry. “I’d best get ready…last thing I need is the sack,” she joked.
She jogged upstairs to her room and grabbed the old towel that had so many bleach and hair dye stains on it they may as well have been the pattern.
