Page 95 of Yearning Difficulties

‘I fucking doubt that.’

‘He did. He’s been going on and on about this Mystery Girl he’s been in love with, and I pushed and found out it was Claire.’

‘Nuh uh. How do you know he didn’t mean you?’

‘Because he’d kissed her. He told me about it, long before he ever kissed me.’

I shook away the glimmer of hope I felt at Cherry’s alternative theory.

‘And even if it were me,’ I added, ‘which it isn’t, that would mean he’s been lying to me from the start. Which also feels gross.’

Cherry gave me a jaded look. ‘All right. I’m sure this will all play out very nicely and absolutely no one’s feelings will get hurt. All because the two of you have literal communication disorders.’

‘Shut up with the “disorder” crap.’

‘But you don’t deny it!’

I went to change into my costume, while her maniacal cackles echoed all around the arena, following me until I was out of sight.

Killian and Dave had officially swapped horses, with the former taking Cyrano and the latter riding Thunder. They’d done their fight call and Killian had stalked off to change into his chainmail. The crowd was already filing into the arena, audibly excited and ready for the penultimate show. I could see Killian’s whole family in the stands.

And Claire was there, too.

I was about to head to the bathroom for one final primp when Dave appeared at my side.

‘Zella, I need to tell you what I was trying to say yesterday.’

‘Not now, Dave,’ I said. Only because I had no interest in talking to him, or any of his horrible friends.

‘Zella, it’s important. This guy, he’s been lying to you. I think it’s all to do with me. Like an obsession. Anyway, I—’

‘Places!’ Marcia called, sounding utterly disillusioned. She was clearly ready for our final two shows to be done.

I pushed by Dave, ignoring the small flicker of unease that his words had planted in me. He didn’t seem himself. There was something feverish in his agitated expression. I didn’t want to know what he was getting himself worked up over; I knew it was nothing good.

The audience clapped more uproariously than usual as I walked out to take my place. I still felt fragile after the night before but I forced a smile onto my face and I waved. I only had to do this twice more. I could get through it.

The beginning of the show went as it usually did. The audience was very receptive. I wondered if some people had saved their ticket money for this weekend as it was the final hurrah for the faire. They cheered very readily and audibly responded to every cue we gave them.

When it was time for Dave and Killian, the stands hummed and buzzed with anticipation. I watched Killian walk out, his expression shuttered and his eyes cast down. He was going through the motions. Ready for all of it to be finished.

Dave suddenly stepped forward, drawing his sword from its sheath and addressing the crowd. There was a steeliness to him that was never normally there. His performance was always a little hammy and unserious.

This time was different.

I didn’t know what it was. Maybe there’s something animalistic in all of us still. Perhaps we can sense changes in the air before they happen. I wouldn’t be able to explain why, but I knew in my bones that something awful was about to occur.

‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ Dave addressed the crowd. ‘This man across from me is no knight. He’s not even a knave.’

‘What’re you doing?’ Killian asked. He was trying to look nonchalant but I spotted a touch of confusion in his face.

Dave turned to look directly at Killian, a cold and ruthless anger simmering in his pale grey eyes. Killian still looked unsure but he met Dave’s stare with defiant challenge. When he spoke, his voice was quiet and ready for a fight.

‘I know what you are,’ Dave spat.

‘What am I, Dave?’

Dave glowered at him. ‘You’re a shifty, lying freak.’