I snort, picking at my flaking mascara. Don’t blame her. I get sick of me too.
Across the corridor I hear a weight crash to the floor. I check the time. It’s a hell of a lot later than I thought.
I wonder if Haz has a sore head today too, hence the home workout.
So they have a bet going, huh?
Colour me surprised.
Wonder who’s winning so far.
Well, me, I suppose. Something I vow here and now to keep up.
Dickheads.
I eye the ceiling, wondering if Nic’s back yet. I want her to tell me more about this bet.
But first I need a drink, my mouth feeling like sawdust.
In the lounge I find Elly on the sofa, tucked beneath a blanket. I resist calling her out. I’m too fucked for a fight right now. Not sure I can handle the truth in this state. Plus, she looks too cosy.
‘Morning. Hanging?’
‘No,’ she replies dully. ‘Just…bleh.’
I frown as I step into the kitchen to fill up the kettle. Whilst it’s heating, I return to the sofa, lifting up the blanket and sliding under it.
It’s a wide sofa but we’re still touching down our lengths.
‘What’s wrong? Who do I have to punch?’
Elly smiles. ‘Well, that would be my family and I’d rather you didn’t do that.’
‘What about them?’
It occurs to me that I know nothing about any of these girls outside of Hazelhurst, like those versions of them simply don’t exist.
‘It’s just a lot.’ She blinks wearily. She has her glasses on, the frames skewwhiff in her reposed position. Gently I take them from her and set them aside.
‘Tell Tilda. She’s a fab listener.’
‘She’s fab at everything.’
I prod her shoulder. ‘No flirting. Tell me.’
‘I might have to quit,’ she says, closing her eyes.
I hear her sniff and realise she’s close to crying. Despite Nic’s little truth bomb last night, my heart clenches. A sad Elly is just wrong. I shuffle forward until we’re pretty much moulded together.
‘Why would you have to quit? What’s up?’
She groans quietly, like my question’s too complicated to get into. ‘There’s just a lot going on. And they need my support. But I can’t give it if I’m here.’
I open my mouth to reply, unsure what’s about to come out, when her phone vibrates somewhere between us. With a sigh, she reaches under the blankets and pulls it out. The time flashes up on the screen. If I don’t get a move on, I won’t be making my meeting with Mark.
‘Tell you what, do you want to meet later on?’ I tap her on the arm, drawing her attention away from whoever’s messaged her. ‘Are you free? Around one, maybe.’
Elly smiles, a little of her old cheekiness shining in it. ‘A date with yours truly?’