Page 83 of You Float My Boat

I sighed. ‘I’m saying I was seventeen, and what the fuck did I know? I don’t even know if it was really love. What does love even mean?’

From the way Oz frowned, he didn’t seem all that satisfied with my answer, especially when he turned to Brooks. ‘What do you think?’

Brooks scratched through his thick beard, while he pondered so long, even I was waiting on tenterhooks. ‘I’m no relationship expert but … I think you can do anything you put your mind to. If you want Kate back, you can get her back.’

I rolled my eyes so hard my brain hurt, but it seemed to have done the trick given Oz resumed his position with his head back against the wall and his eyes closed. Brooks followed his lead, and five minutes later none of us had spoken. It was only the sound of a stomach rumbling which brought me back to the present, and realization that none of us had eaten yet.

‘What time is it?’

‘Just gone seven,’ I replied. ‘Oz, how are you feeling?’

‘Like I sank half a bottle of whisky, and there’s a hole in my chest.’

‘Okay, well I think you need to eat something, so I’m going to make eggs for all of us and get you some electrolytes.’ I pushed up off the floor. ‘Brooks?’

‘Yeah. And bacon if there’s any going.’ He rubbed his stomach and grinned. ‘I might have finished the porridge already.’

My head dropped with a shake, though I couldn’t hide the amusement. ‘Fine, can you make sure Oz can stand up? And maybe get him in the shower too.’

‘I’m right here,’ Oz grumbled from where his head was now slumped onto his arms, giving no indication he was capable of moving by himself.

‘It’ll be ready in twenty minutes,’ I waved behind me.

I didn’t rush down the stairs. Oz’s words echoed around as I made my way towards the kitchen,‘love sucks’and‘you never got over Evie’alternating with each slow step.

Witnessing the pain Oz was going through should have had me reconfirming all my initial instincts. Love did suck. But somewhere in the distance, I could hear Violet’s voice shouting over Oz and everything I’d ever declared about love. Maybe it was all this play rehearsal we’d been doing, or her telling me about the books she loved, or simply her … whatever it was had me reaching for my phone as soon as I stepped back into the kitchen.

I opened the fridge and removed the box of eggs with one hand. With the other my finger pressed down on the name that had recently moved to the top of my contacts list. It rang so long, I thought I was going to have to leave a message.

‘Charlie?’ Violet croaked, right as I realized my mistake. ‘It’s the middle of the night. What’s wrong?’

I bit down my smile, and stopped myself from correcting her that it was seven-fifteen a.m. ‘Shit, I’m sorry. Go back to sleep. I totally lost track.’

‘Why are you calling me?’

‘I wanted to hear your voice.’

We’d agreed not to leave the house all day, but the soft hum she let out in response had me wondering how I could escape.

The Violet Effect.

13. Violet:

(Maturity is overrated)

Oh, bollocks.

‘Stel, I’ll call you back.’

I hung up before she had a chance to say anything else and stared at the heap of books I’d just dropped. MyTwelfth Nightmanuscript, along with three other books I needed to mark up for an English assignment were spread at my feet, and the small white box I’d been so carefully balancing was at the bottom of the pile underneath.

Please don’t be crushed, please don’t be crushed, please don’t be crushed.

Gingerly squinting through one eye, I bent to pick it up. Eased off the slightly wonky elastic ribbon and breathed a sigh of relief.

The contents were somehow still intact.

Gathering everything as quickly as possible, I swore to myself, plus whoever was listening, that I would no longer try and break a world record for carrying everything at once, while also talking on the phone and not paying the slightest bit of attention to where I was going.

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