Page 56 of We Used To Be Magic

‘That’s ridiculous,’ she says flatly. ‘Your family is unbelievably connected. You could literally work anywhere you want.’

‘I don’t particularly want to work, though.’

‘Then go to uni! You can’t disown your privilege, if that’s what you’re attempting.’

‘Oh, so you’re saying I should lean into it.’ I laugh. ‘Waltz into a job I don’t deserve just because I can?’

‘Wearing shabby old clothes and working for minimum wage won’t change the fact that you’ve never wanted for anything in your life,’ she says coldly. ‘Nothing material, anyway.’

‘This argument feels more like you trying to justify your own choices.’

‘Obviouslymy parents helped me get my job! They’re helping with my apartment, too – I’m not in denial about it.’

‘How does me not wanting to dick around with spreadsheets all day equate to me being in denial?’

‘Then whatdoyou want to do, Ezra?’ Edie retorts hotly, cheeks colouring. ‘What’s the grand plan?’

‘Sit here and let you berate me, I guess. It feels great.’

‘I’mnotberating you. I just – I want to know that you’re doing well.’

‘Oh, do you care?’

‘Obviously I fucking care,’ she snaps, and we both stare at each other for a moment in heated silence. Then – ‘I’ve missed you.’

She sounds reluctant when she says that, like the words have forced themselves past her lips. And then the fight is over as quickly as it began but I’m still angry that she has the nerve to stroll back into my life and immediately pull it apart for her inspection. I’m angry that she seems to think that wearing a fancy outfit and having a laptop sticking out of her bag somehow negates the fact that her stupid internship probably pays less per hour than I make slinging plates around, if at all. But most of all, I’m fuckingfuriousthat:

‘I’ve missed you too.’

The relief that traces Edie’s features is obvious when I say that, and I have to look away.

‘Thanks for coming,’ she says quietly. ‘And for not throwing a drink in my face, I guess.’

‘Me, waste alcohol? Never.’

She laughs, and the sound of it makes me feel weird. There’s so much I want to ask her, still, but I honestly don’t think that my pride will allow it. Then again, maybe that’s for the best. It’s probably easier on the both of us if some things remain unsaid.

AUDREY

‘AUDREY,CAN YOUPICK UPONE OFTHE PIECES?’

I do as Julian says, letting it dangle from my fingers like I’m considering my next move.

‘Perfect.’ He nods, turning to a stylist. ‘Can we try it with the glasses?’

An assistant scurries forward with a pair of gold-rimmed cat-eye sunglasses. I place them on the bridge of my nose, figuring that if the make-up artist spent fifteen minutes applying individual fake eyelashes, it’s because they were meant to be seen.

‘Yeah. Yeah, that’s good. And Marika, you do something with the cocktail.’

Marika lifts her martini glass, swirling the pink liquid inside. Fruit punch, but I assume it’s meant to be a Cosmo or something.

‘Great,’ Julian says, crouching slightly as he starts snapping. Marika and I resume posing, doing our best to ignore the sheer number of people openly gawking at us. Not that I can blame them – we’re in the middle of Washington Square Park, sat opposite each other at a chess table that we had to bribe two old men to relinquish. We’ve been inconveniencing people all day, actually, but there’s always an assistant on hand with a neat wad of bills to smooth things over. The assembled crew is enormous, conspicuous enough to draw the eye even if Marika and I weren’t dressed head to toe in couture – beaded mini-dresses andcandy-coloured fur coats, currently. Faux, of course. Marika’s is yellow and mine is lilac, so I hope that’s obvious.

‘Can we move the pieces around a little?’ Julian says. ‘Who here knows how to play chess?’

‘I do,’ Marika replies and starts rearranging them.

‘How am I doing?’ I ask, watching her.

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