Page 13 of Mixing Drinks For Tipsy Weasels

She nods. "Better than nothing."

I dump the paintbrushes onto the floor and hold the bag out for her. She wrinkles her nose in an adorable way as she tries to put the shirt inside.

"Why am I so bothered by a bit of paint?" she mutters.

"Because it's on you instead of the arch," I point out.

She shrugs. "And that's probably going to be true once we get painting anyway. I really should wear the same clothes every time we come to do prep in here."

"I hadn't thought of that. The wash will get out most of the paint though." I don't know if that's true, but it seems like the right thing to say.

"One of my flatmates is a witch, she'll be able to get it off for me if the washing machine fails," Erica responds, finally managing to get the shirt inside the rustling plastic. "I guess I'll just leave this here until we're done." She drops it down next to the paint can with a horrible wet sound, making me feel more than a little guilty that I knocked the paint can off in the first place.

"I'm really sorry, Erica," I say again.

"Did you do it on purpose?" she asks.

"Of course not."

"Exactly. And I could tell, because if you did, your aim would have been a lot better."

I chuckle. "I wouldn't count on that."

"You were the bowler for the school cricket team," she reminds me. "I saw you play enough times to know you're an excellent shot."

I raise an eyebrow. "You watched me play cricket?"

Her cheeks flame red, almost as bright as her hair. "My friend had a crush on the captain, she made me go to the games. I just noticed you were there. Nothing weird."

"Mmhmm, nothing weird at all."

She bites her bottom lip, looking as if she wants to say something else but thinks better of it. "So, I guess we should paint more. it's a good thing it wasn't the expensive glitter paint you spilt."

I give her a weak smile. "Luckily just the white paint."

"Oh, that's good. At least we're done with that and we don't have to tell Robin that we need a replacement tin."

I grimace. "I wouldn't want to have that conversation with them."

"They wouldn't be happy. And they still might not be if the paint doesn't clean up very easily," she points out. "I can try and clean some of it up with one of the dust sheets while you go talk to Robin?"

I nod. "Sounds like a plan." I don't particularly want to leave, and not just because I don't want to tell Robin that I made a mess, but also because there's a part of me that wants to spend time with Erica. She's going to be here when I get back, but there's still a part of me that doesn't want to leave the room.

"When you get back, I'll need you to tell me what we're supposed to be doing with the glitter paint," she says. "I wasn't able to attend Robin's briefing because of my last exam."

"Oh, yeah, I forgot about that. How did it go?"

She shrugs. "Okay, I think. Or as well as any exam could go."

"Which in Erica-speak, it went amazing."

She laughs, flicking her hair over her shoulder and grimacing when she realises it's stuck together a bit because of the paint. "We'll see when our results are posted. I'm glad I can just ignore it all now and focus on things thataren'texams, at least until next time."

"And your way of celebrating is coming to prep for the end-of-year ball?"

"Yeah, starting to regret that one, but I didn't know when my exams were going to fall when I signed up. So here I am." She lifts her hands and shrugs in a way that suggests she's not really that bothered by it.

I guess I understand that. I could be spending my days partying like some of my flatmates are, but here I am, doing exactly what she is.

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