‘Yeah, you have had way too much juice. Remember, we share a toilet.’
He shudders at the mere thought of what this means. I shudder too. I didn’t think that far ahead as I downed juice after bright, colourful juice. My stomach churns ever so slightly at the thought of all that acid bubbling and spitting up inside me. I place my new cup down on the counter immediately, as if it were about to explode in my hands.
‘Don’t do this to me, Noah. I can’t throw up again. Not onanotherdate. This can’t be my thing.’
He chuckles, his face lighting up as he harks back to that fateful night in Rotterdam, before delving into his backpack and chucking me his half-drunk bottle of water. I take a deep breath, then a couple more, before lifting it to my lips and praying it’s enough to dilute the fruity soup I’ve created. I feel it run across my tongue, down my throat and slosh down to join the mass of liquid I seem to have accumulated.
‘Better?’ he asks.
‘Better. I should get back to Mala. Thank you.’
‘Mind if I come too? Things did not go well with Abigail,’ he says, lowering his voice.
‘The girl in blue? What happened?’ I ask, surprised.
Despite my weird feelings earlier, I actually do feel bad. Now I’ve got Mala, I want him to be happy too. He dips his eyes as he takes a long, hard sip through his straw.
‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘It absolutely does. I can’t help you if you continue to keep your dates secretive. I don’t want another El.’
He winces at her name. ‘Yeah, you made that clear earlier.’
My heart drops as I relive our little spat. ‘Sorry.’
‘It’s fine. This wasn’t the same. She was single, she just had a really short fuse.’
‘In what way?’ I ask.
It has become increasingly clear that he’s a hard nut to pull information from. He rolls his eyes and huffs, looking down again.
‘I freaked out when we lost you at the back. She didn’t like how much I cared. Can we go sit now?’ he asks.
‘I’m sorry,’ I say again.
‘Please don’t apologise. Let’s sit,’ he says, shaking off his gloom and walking ahead.
I direct us to the booths, steering our way through the crowd and trying not to hover too much on his story.
‘Who’s this?’ Mala asks, squinting at us as we approach.
‘Oh, this is Noah. My travel buddy,’ I say proudly.
‘Oh. Hi.’ She greets him, a weak smile on her face. ‘You didn’t tell me you were travelling with someone.’
‘I haven’t come up?’ he gasps, dramatically clutching his chest. ‘You’re like the first thing I mention to anyone!’
I force a pretty large eyeroll at his faux outrage, but not before a small smile lifts the corner of my mouth. He spots it like a hawk zeroing in on its prey and hits me back with a smug, satisfied grin.
‘Ignore him,’ I say to Mala, breaking the eye contact between me and Noah for good. ‘He’s an only child. Real problem with sharing.’
‘Got it.’ She nods, smile far duller than before. ‘Will you sit?’
‘Yeah, of course!’ I beam, shuffling into our booth.
I shimmy far enough so that Noah can slide in next to me, but the booth reveals itself to be a little too small for three people. My knees knock into Mala’s so hard she gasps and recoils at the unexpected aftershock.
‘Sorry!’ I splutter an apology instantly. ‘It’s all the juice – I guess I don’t know my own strength.’
