Page 25
A grin tugs at the corner of my mouth. “Easy. In London, I never needed to. Everywhere I lived was within walking distance of work, or on a decent Tube line. And when I was busy, which was always, it just never seemed worth the hassle.” I shrug, watching a tractor crawl along in a nearby field. “Even in Port Seton I can walk most places, it’s not that big a town and my boutique’s close enough to my flat. Though this weekend’s making me realise it’s a bit of a problem if I keep doing events. I might have to finally take lessons.”
She smirks like she’s won some silent argument with herself. “Can Aaron drive?”
“He learnt to drive as soon as he turned seventeen,” I say, my lips twisting into a faint smile as I picture him at that age, all reckless confidence and impossible charm, which really never changed. “Always the thrill seeker, that one. He got this ridiculously sporty car, completely impractical. But absolutely him.” I shake my head lightly and let out a low chuckle. “And he likes to drive a bit too fast.” As soon as I say those words my throat tightens, sharp enough to steal the ease from my expression, and I feel tears pooling in the corners of my eyes. Turning toward the window, I wipe them away with my sleeve before Bri can see.
“How is he managing living in Port Seton being CEO of a tech company in London, I mean?”
I take a split second too long before answering. “A lot of remote working. Travelling a lot too.”
The silence that follows feels odd, noticeable even. Something in my answer hasn’t landed right, and I can feel it sitting between us like an uninvited guest.
“That must be hard though,” Bri muses, concentrating on the road. “Being apart that much, I mean.”
I clear my throat, turning the radio down a fraction even though the music isn’t loud. “Honestly, it’s not a big deal, there’s more important things to be focused on right now, like I don’t know, surviving this weekend perhaps.” I throw up my hands, sighing, “who cares about personal lives right now.”
She gives me a sideways look but lets it go.
My stomach drops and I grind my teeth—I really need to lay off the Rioja at night if I’m going to keep all this straight. That hesitation was stupid, exactly the kind of thing people notice. And the worst part is, lying had been easy in theory. But now that I’m here and I’ve met these people, now that I actually like these people, especially Bri, it’s not so easy. Every laugh, every conversation, every little friendship we’re building is happening beside a lie and I’ve likely ruined any chance at real friendship.
We drive in silence for a while, the kind that settles heavily between us, while It's My Life hums through the speakers. The song is a rude reminder of grabbing hold of your own future, refusing to let fear make your choices for you. Somewhere between the chorus and the next stretch of empty road, something inside me shifts. For the first time in a very long time, I realise I don’t just want to survive anymore, I want to live, and to do that I’m going to have to admit the truth to everyone. Consequences be damned.
“Do you think it’s weird how quickly everyone’s bonded?” Bri asks after a while. “Like we’ve all known each other longer than twenty-four hours.”
“That’s an actual psychological thing,” I explain. Happy for the distraction from my own thoughts, I grab the subject with both hands. “If you put strangers into a small shared environment together it accelerates everything. Friendships, trust, attraction, arguments. It’s the same reason reality TV is so popular and how the stars end up not only behaving like they’ve known each other for years after a few days on an island somewhere, but maintaining those relationships long after the show finishes.”
Bri snorts. “I don’t watch reality TV.”
“You’re missing out,” I say, clutching my imaginary pearls. “I love it, obsessed with it actually.”
Horror washes over her face, like she’s reassessing every choice that led her to this moment.
I huff a laugh at her expression. “People are kind of my thing darling.”
“What do you mean, people are your thing?” she replies, shooting me a sideways glance before changing gears.
Stretching further into my seat, I take a drink of water before answering. “I don’t know. Humans just fascinate me. Actually, psychology is fascinating. I enjoy learning it, observing people, figuring out what they’re not saying as much as what they are.” My thumb rubs against my locket absentmindedly. “Stories too. Everyone’s got one. I like collecting them, trying to understand why people behave the way they do, why they become who they are. I’ve spent an embarrassing amount of time researching the human mind and learning to recognise patterns.”
She lets out a bubbly, low sound. “That almost sounded neurotypical for a second, being able to read people and social cues, but then you immediately followed it with the most autistic sentence I’ve ever heard.”
I snort into my hand. "Hyperfocus and time, darling, that's all."
She hesitates, like she’s still unsure about me, but eventually curiosity wins out. “Give me an example. On how you read people I mean.”
My head tilts towards her. “You, for example.”
Her fingers pause briefly against the steering wheel. “What about me?”
“You’re kind, funny, smart, sassy as hell, and you hand out love like it’s free samples at Costa,” I say. “But you don’t actually believe you’re capable of being loved properly yourself, so you shut that door before anyone else can. And you put yourself down first, because, if you hurt yourself before someone else does, then at least you’re in control of it.”
Her face twists in mock horror. “I do not do that.”
“Oh darling, you most definitely do.”
She shifts in her seat, suddenly very interested in the road markings. The air between us pulls tighter for a second before she clears her throat. “Fine. What about the others then, Sherlock?”
I stifle a laugh.
“Ember’s easy to read. She’s quiet, shy, and constantly apologising for existing. The girl spends her entire life trying not to take up emotional space, as though she’s convinced the moment she needs anything, everyone will decide she’s too much.”
