Total pages in book: 209
Estimated words: 198235 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 991(@200wpm)___ 793(@250wpm)___ 661(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 198235 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 991(@200wpm)___ 793(@250wpm)___ 661(@300wpm)
I don’t bother drying my hair or putting on lotion. I throw on a baggy t-shirt and some sweatpants, and crawl into the cold sheets of my old bed. It’s hard, it’s lumpy and it hasn’t got Jesse in it, but I’m on my own, and it’s where I need to be right now.
* * *
I wake up to shouting—very loud shouting. It’s quite dark, the only light a soft glow from the glass panel above my bedroom door. Pulling the sheets back, I slip out of bed and pad across my room, opening the door quietly.
‘I said it’s over!’ Kate screams. ‘This isn’t going anywhere!’
Oh shit, I shouldn’t be listening to this, but my curiosity is getting the better of me. I can see Kate’s back down the hallway, and I pray the next person who I’m going to see will be Dan. But it’s not. It’s Sam. My already aching heart takes a further nosedive for my troubled best friend. She doesn’t know what she’s doing.
‘Kate, come on.’ Sam’s voice is beseeching, and a little confused, which tells me he has no idea why Kate is finishing their relationship.
Relationship seems like a pretty strange word to use to describe their set-up, but past all of the jokes and casualness, is a connection I’ve never witnessed with Kate and a man. Not even with my brother. If they could get past all things Manor-ish, then I know they would be perfect for each other. I could kill my brother. And I could kill Kate for being so stupid.
‘Just go, Sam.’ She stomps off across the landing, straight into the kitchen where she’s obviously opening and slamming every cupboard door in sight. Then I see Sam follow her in.
‘What’s brought all this on?’ he asks, ‘What’s changed?’
‘Nothing!’ There’s a collection of further bangs before she’s coming back out of the kitchen and marching into the lounge. I catch a glimpse of her pale face, looking no brighter than this morning. Her red hair is still dull and scrapped into a ponytail. I know that expression. That’s her stubborn, I’m-not-being-honest face. I could throttle the stupid cow. Now I want Sam to leave so I can let loose on my wilful friend.
‘Obviously something has!’ Sam almost laughs, but it’s a nervous laugh. It’s a laugh that clearly indicates worry. This just confirms my thoughts. Sam really does like Kate. A lot.
‘Just go.’ she spits shortly.
‘No! Not until you tell me what the fuck is going on!’
I can’t see them, so I creep out quietly, scolding myself for being so nosey, but I need to hear this because I’m just as intrigued as Sam. I suspect I know, which is just spiking my already fraying patience.
‘I don’t owe you an explanation.’
He laughs properly this time. ‘Yes, I think you do!’
I catch a glimpse of Sam trying to hold Kate in place, but the stubborn cow just shrugs him off. ‘No, I don’t. We were fucking, nothing more. It was fun while it lasted, but I’m bored now.’ Her cold words slice through me, so I can only imagine what they’ve done to Sam.
He doesn’t say anything, but I see the slight shake of his head. ‘Fun?’ he repeats. ‘Just fun?’
‘Yes. Not anymore, though. I’ve had all the fun I’m going to have with you.’
My mouth gapes, just when I thought she couldn’t be any colder. She’s on fire. Sam’s body shifts, and I know he’s leaving, so I creep slowly and quietly back to my room and push the door shut. I don’t blame him for giving in. Despite his chosen lifestyle and that he’s dragged Kate over to the dark side with him, it’s perfectly clear he has deep feelings for Kate. And I know she does, too.
I hear the front door slam, and then the unmistakable sound of sobbing. She’s crying. She never cries. I’m infuriated with her, but feeling incredibly sorry for my stupid best friend. What is she trying to prove here? I can’t help but think that this would never have happened if Dan wasn’t here.
I could stay in my room and let her have her tears, but instead of letting Kate grieve in peace, I step out and walk across the landing to the lounge. I’m not letting her brush this off later. If I witness her turmoil, then she has to admit that she is, in fact, in turmoil. I’m not letting her evade me this time.
I lean up against the doorframe of the lounge and watch for an eternity as her shoulders jerk and she cries relentlessly. My instincts tell me to sit beside her and cuddle her, but I don’t, and after a good ten minutes, she harshly brushes her cheeks and stands, turning and immediately clocking me in the doorway. As I knew she would, she plasters on an unaffected face and tries to smile. It’s insulting to my intelligence and our friendship.