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‘I got Julien to take stuff from your room when he was over the other day without you noticing.’ She’s extremely cavalier for someone admitting to aiding and abetting undergarment theft.
‘Is it, like, a fetish or something? I didn’t accidentally putsex clubon the list, did I?’
‘No, Finlay, it is not a fetish. If you’ll notice, he also stole a hoodie and a t-shirt.’
‘I’m gonna be honest, that hasn’t eased my concern. All I’m getting at the moment is kleptomaniac.’
She tightens the drawstring and closes the bag, before lifting it and looping the straps over my shoulders for me to carry it instead. A grin flashes across her face, like she believes she’s tricked me into being her pack mule. In reality I’d probably carryherif she asked me to.
I have to remind myself this agreement is what’s best. I wasn’t lying when I told Ava that being her friend is my favourite thing. I like who I am when I’m with her, and I’ll take any variation of her if it means we can keep spending time together before I leave.
‘Let’s walk,’ she says, and I follow her along the pavement. ‘All will be revealed. You trust me, don’t you?’
‘You know my answer.’
Her expression’s coy as we wander along paved streets for a couple of minutes, and I sneak glances to capture as much of her as I can; the way her ponytail swings as she walks, the slight upturn ofher nose, how she keeps tugging the sleeves of her hoodie down. Just as I come to the conclusion that whoever decided to call them the apples of your cheeks must’ve been using Ava as their source material, we arrive at our destination. It’s an ornate building I recognise, with four pillars holding up the stone façade.
‘Here we are,’ she says with a flourish. ‘The Natural History Museum.’
I think back to my list.See the dinosaurs.She grins, her whole face hopeful, and I peer at the entrance. ‘Is it open late tonight?’
‘Better,’ she leads me towards a sign near the door, which saysA Night at the Museum. She watches my face to gauge my reaction. ‘It’s this event they do every so often where they invite guests to eat and drink at the museum until late and then sleep in the main hall under the massive dinosaur skeleton. I got in contact with Sage from the party because I remembered they work here, and they managed to get us tickets. I thought you’d like it. Especially after your intense week.’
I don’t know why, but there’s a lump in my throat, and it stops me from speaking. Her eyes flick between mine and the longer I don’t say anything, the more the excitement fades from her face. She scrabbles for a caveat. ‘But if you’re not interested, we can just go inside to look at the fossils and then leave in an hour or whatever, that’s fine too.’
‘Ava, no,’ I grab her arm and the lump finally shifts. ‘This is perfect. What the fuck?’
Relief floods back into her expression and I let her smile soak into me.
‘Let’s go and see if our names are on the guest list. If not then this is going to beextremelyembarrassing.’
Sage pulled through; we’re let in with no further questions and I get to see what else is in the bag. Ava’s planned it all; there are two sleeping bags—turns out Alina’s an avid camper—along with mini toiletries and inflatable pillows. We set the bag in a storeroom with everyone else’s stuff so we won’t have to lug it around the museum with us.
‘You can take your pillow with you on the plane,’ she says as we step back into the main area.
I’m trying not to think about the move. It’s coming together quicker than I have time to process. I don’t need to wait for a visa like I have in the past—thanks for that American passport, Dad—and I’ve got a few apartment viewings lined up in my first week. There’s that familiar buzz at the prospect of starting afresh, though I know saying goodbye to this part of my life is going to be harder than usual. But for now, I’m here.
We spend the evening wandering through the exhibits, which is code for: I show Ava the fossils I like and she pretends she’s interested. We spot Sage in one of the galleries and I talk their ear off about armoured dinosaurs while Ava watches like we’re speaking a different language. There’s a sit-down meal at around eight, and then the bar opens and I’m kind of obsessed with the fact people are getting drunk at the Natural History Museum. Just what the dinosaurs would’ve wanted.
Neither of us is drinking tonight. I’m glad we both get to experience this with a clear head. Plus, there’s a quiz we do moderately well on, and I’m certain if we were drunk it would’ve been a whole other story.
At the end of a science show, while I’m peppering a palaeontologist with approximately fifty questions, Ava pulls away and spends a few minutes on her phone, frantically texting,periodically drawing her fingertips up to her mouth like she’s trying to pull out the words to send. When I catch her eye and mouthare you okay?she smiles and nods, but I can tell she doesn’t mean it. Her real smile makes my stomach drop—this one just twists it.
She rejoins the group with that insincere smile, acting like she’s listening and pointedly ignoring every concerned glance I send her way. Then we head back to the galleries, slower this time, taking in the artefacts we didn’t notice on our first round. The more we roam, the tighter Ava’s eyebrows pull together, and I know she’s not here with me anymore.
I wonder if she just needs some time alone, so we’re quiet for a while, and I reluctantly let her drift away as we wander.
‘Hey, look. Send a photo of this to your brother,’ I say at last, pointing at a plaque that readsMaxakalisaurus:sauropod, herbivore. ‘Did you know there’s a dinosaur called theAvaceratopstoo? I might petition for them to place both sets of fossils together, in honour of you two.’
It’s a terrible joke, but it feels like a disproportionate response when her eyes well. If there’s one thing I know about Ava, it’s that she is not a crier. I step in front of her. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing.’ She says it immediately and I don’t believe her. My hand moves down to her wrist and I pull her to a corner of the gallery that’s free of people, behind a glass case of ammonites.
‘Ava, please. What’s really going on? There’s something bothering you.’
She slides down the wall to the floor and I try to give her space by sitting against the other wall. For a few moments, we listen to the quiet murmur of people at the other end of the room, our legs outstretched on the floor, feet almost touching.
She scrunches her nose as she thinks, and I hold my breath while I wait for her response. ‘Do you remember ages ago I told youthat Max was in hospital a few years back?’ She lets out a long exhale. ‘He’s ill again. It wasn’t confirmed until today.’
