Page 10 of Swim To Me

“I-I’m not sure, Aura.”

She widens her eyes. “Won’t you even think about it?”

My answer catches in the back of my throat. I glance down at Grey’s number again.

What the fuck was he thinking when he scribbled his number down?

“Maybe, but—”

“But, what?” Aura questions. “He obviously—”

“You know I don’t do things spontaneously, Aura,” I sigh. “I-I need time to think.”

She scoffs. “Think aboutwhat?”

I don’t reply because the truth is I need to think about everything, down to every little detail. If not I’m sure to go in unprepared and that’s the worst thing I could possibly be. Why on earth would Grey do such a thing? What is his motive?

“Is he attractive?” Aura asks suddenly, breaking my slew of thoughts.

I purposefully press my lips together to stop my answer from escaping.

“Delilah—”

“I said I’ll think on it, Aura. Just leave it.” I turn and set the kettle to boil, ending our conversation. The sound of the water begins to heat up, drowning out my racing thoughts.

I can feel Aura’s eyes on me, but I keep my back to her, filling two mugs with sugar, a teabag each and then the water once it’s boiled over. When I hand it to her, Aura takes her mug from me without another word, and heads back into the living room, leaving the pamphlet, face up, to sit on my kitchen counter temptingly.

Ipeel open my eyes the next morning, the sound of an unfamiliar alarm tone vibrating through my brain.

One by one I register the feel of an arm slung over my waist, a foot pressed up against my bare shin, the shampoo smell of the hair splayed over my pillow, before I turn to see the gaping mouth of my adorable sister as she starfishes over all of my king-sized bed, lips parted tocatch the fliesas our mum would say.

The annoying, unfamiliar ringtone catches my attention again.

“Aurelia?” I whisper, poking her shoulder in an attempt to wake her. “Aurelia?” Nothing. “Aurelia!”

“I’m up!” she slurs, sitting bolt upright in my bed, pulling the covers off me even further.

“Can you hear that noise?”

“Work alarm.” She offers me no other explanation before practically sliding out of bed, dragging herself across my plush carpeted floor and over to the vanity where she’d dumped her handbag last night.

“Time is it?” I ask, tongue thick, head fuzzy. I need another few hours or a giant flat white coffee in a vat with extra, extra, extra caramel sauce drizzled upon the foam.

“Eight oh two,” she answers huskily, stopping the god awful alarm noise in its tracks, only to bring the phone up to her ear.

“Hi,” Aurelia’s entire voice changes – telephone voice activated. I have to stifle my laugh with the bedcover. Her perfectly clipped voice isn’t matching the sight of her still in my pyjamas, the ones she’s stolen for her own, with one pant leg halfway up her leg, drool dried on the side of her mouth, hair coming loose from her bedraggled plait. “Can I speak to Michelle please?”

“What are you doing?” I mouth, ignoring the silent swat of her hand telling me to shut up.

“Hi, Michelle, I’m really sorry but I don’t think I can come in today… yes, I know it’s a Saturday… my sister bumped her head yesterday and she’s got a suspected concussion. I’m the only one who can… No, she doesn’t have a boyfriend to look after her—”

Ouch.

“I am really sorry it’s short notice… Yeah, I’ll be able to cover her shift to make up for it, no problem. Okay, thanks Michelle, thank you.”

“What was that all about?” I question as soon as Aurelia hangs up, shimmying back into the warmth of my bed and forcing me to lie back down too with a loop of forearm around my neck.

“Got us a Saturday off,” Aurelia mumbles in my hair.

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