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‘To really show your thanks,’ he twirls his straw around his cup, ‘you could repay me by crossing another item off my bucket list.’
I catch sight of Stan in the corner. Am I too young to be so stagnant? It’s just a summer. A trial run of living a life that’s a little more exciting than it has been over the past few years. Not pushing the boundaries too much to draw attention, to remind the universe that I’ve already asked for too much, but enough that I can appease the discomforting boredom that’s been simmering.
I tighten my ponytail. ‘Fine. Let’s get this over with. AirDrop me your list and I’ll pick the option that sounds the least heinous.’
‘You really know how to make a guy feel special.’
‘Heard that many times.’
‘From Jonas, apparently.’ His mouth quirks up on one side.
I ignore him and skim the list he’s just sent. ‘You free aroundthree tomorrow?’
He blinks a few times, somehow surprised I’ve suggested something, even though he did just semi-blackmail me into it. ‘Yeah. You want to hang out tomorrow? Really?’
‘Wantis maybe overstating, but I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.’
‘You’re considering my feelings? Sounds to me like you’re being a good friend.’
I shake my head with a sigh and spot the tea I started making earlier, no doubt bitter and cold by now. I pour the stewed liquid down the sink and start making a fresh one. That’s what I need, I think. Something new.
11
London is just sky rats and living statues
A V A
When I take offmy apron and change into my own clothes at the end of each day, it’s as if I’m peeling off sticky layers of a false identity. But coffee grounds burrow beneath my nails, steam wand burns mark my arms, and I can never quite get the smell of espresso out of my hair.
I don’t bother waiting for Finn to arrive to find out what drink he wants, instead making him an iced latte and assuming that’ll be fine. He steps into the shop at three o’clock on the dot, and I wonder if he’s been hovering outside until now. Excitement rolls over him, brightening his eyes, loosening his smile, sending his hands fidgeting inside his pockets. You’d think I was taking him to Disneyland.
I hand one of the cups over to him and, impossibly, he lights up even more. ‘For me? For free?’
‘I’ve started a tab,’ I tell him blandly, before letting Mateo know how I’ve left things and heading towards the door. Finn holds it open and I step outside, squinting in the light.
‘So. What’s the plan?’ he asks from behind me.
I turn and have to cup my eyes to look at him. ‘I’ve only got about an hour before I have to leave you. But do you trust me?’
‘Absolutely.’ I hunt for any sarcasm in the word, but it’s pure, easy acquiescence.
‘Then follow me,’ I reply, about to step off the kerb.
In a flash, a linen-sleeved arm flings out across my front, milliseconds before a motorbike whizzes past, which would’ve no doubt promised me a particularly grizzly end.
‘If that’s how you move around, I’d rather not,’ he says with a sharp exhale, looking me up and down to check I’m unharmed.
‘Thanks,’ I mumble, adrenaline coursing through me as we wait for the green man. We step onto the road, safe from rogue motorbikes and death sentences this time. ‘But you shouldn’t have saved me. That was intentional, actually. I just really,reallydidn’t want to hang out with you this afternoon.’
‘There are less messy ways to do it. You’d have got blood all over my favourite shirt.’ I glance at the shirt in question. It’s sage green, the sleeves rolled to his elbows, one button too many open at the neck for my liking. He catches me looking at his chest and beams, mistaking my distaste for something else. I snap my eyes away, but it’s too late. He steps in front of me as we cross the street, walking backwards so we won’t bump into each other. ‘It matches my eyes.’
I frown. ‘But your eyes are brown.’
‘Don’t tell me you’ve been looking into my eyes already, buddy. This is a business arrangement, remember?’
I let out a sigh to end all sighs in response. I’m not even going toentertainthe idea of there being anything else with this walking, talking (really, so, so much talking) nuisance of a man.
It’s not quite a summer’s day just yet, but there’s more blue sky than cloud, which is pretty much England’s equivalent to the Maldives, and finally I remember to take my sunglasses out of my bag. Right on schedule, a red bus pulls up to the stop we’ve walked to, and Finn dutifully follows me up the stairs to the top deck.
