Page 105 of Tricky Girls

‘Well, shit, dude.’ She reaches out and touches my sleeve. ‘Aw, Elly.’

I shake my head, forcing myself to smile. ‘It’s cool. Literally, I’m so used to it by now.’

‘Is this why you might have to quit uni?’

‘Yeah.’ I release a sigh. ‘My grandparents are getting on and they just can’t deal with the kids. There’s not even enough room for them in the house. Mum lost her council house so we all moved in. Grandad even built a little summerhouse shed thing in the garden just so Mum had somewhere to sleep. It’s just, yeah, not really seeing a solution for it all right now.’

‘Shouldn’t be up to you to find one.’

‘No one else though, is there?’ A thought that haunts me every day.

‘Elly.’ Tilda frowns at me, eyes so full of compassion it almost brings tears to mine.

I give a weak smile. ‘Hey, it’s Christmas. It’s all good.’

She gives the hem of my jacket a tug. ‘We’ll have the best fucking day ever.’

It’s about lunchtime when we finally reach the market, so we start with food. The smell is insane, German sausage and samosas mingling with hot chocolate, churros and mulled wine.

Tilda spins in a circle.‘Fuuuuuck,how do you choose?’

‘Well, I’m having a hot dog for sure.’

She hums, fiddling with her bottom lip. ‘Might join you. Don’t know if I’ve got the room for one of those beasts though. Might be boring and just get chips.’

‘They’ve got poutine over there.’

Tilda smiles. ‘Sold. Wanna meet back here after?’

By some miracle I’m done before she is, onion-scented steam bathing my face as I fight not to bite into the still sizzling sausage. I stand out the way of Tilda’s stall, watching her intent face as she waits for her order to be called. She looks like Wednesday out on a day trip with her dark hair in plaits and every item on her being black. The red velvet on our Christmas meal out had been a nice treat.

Though not as nice as what came after.

As merry on booze as I’d been, I still remember every second of that perfect, immaculate, wholly unexpected kiss. I hadn’t even cared that Haz got in there first. When I was called up, I gave it everything I had.

She’d been perfect. Soft and yielding and responsive. I know she was just trying to prove something but there’s no way, no how, she hadn’t enjoyed herself just a little bit.

It’s ruined me. Every night out, I’m gonna want the same now.

But I can’t. Because she’s straight. A fact she hammers home all the time. Not her fault we’re just fucking easy.

‘I amsuperexcited for this,’ she says when she joins me, steaming Styrofoam container in hand.

There’re no free benches around the market, so we head a little further out to the port, watching ships going in and out as we lean on the railings.

‘Can we see Hazelhurst from here?’ Tilda asks as she gazes out over the water.

‘Don’t think so. It’ll be round the other side. Little Hazel might be closer.’

I scour the horizon for Hazelhurst’s sister island. It’s probably too small to see. Most of the university’s student body hails from there, something they really like letting us scholarship lot know. There are two schools on the little land mass, both preparatory. It’s also home to some proper rich folk, living in those private mansions on Hazel Point.

‘Wonder what the other two are doing today,’ Tilda muses.

I give up on looking, refocussing back on my hot dog.

‘Being miserable bastards, that’s what. What fucker says no to Christmas markets?’

Tilda snickers. ‘Your two best friends, that’s who.’

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