Page 84 of We Used To Be Magic

There’s a world outside this bedroom, but it doesn’t feel that way – not any more. A part of me hopes it never does again.

EZRA

‘No.YOU’RE KIDDING.’

‘I’m not!’ Audrey laughs. ‘It was my favourite movie when I was a kid.’

‘Were you not watching actual kids’ films?’

‘It’s notnota kids’ film.’

‘The entire family gets chased out of the country by the Nazis! They have to leave their entire lives behind!’

‘But they have each other! It’s a nice ending!’

‘If you say so. Honestly, I’m more interested in why you deemed Captain von Trapp crush-worthy.’

‘I’m not elaborating! Not until you tell me who your first crush was.’

‘Have you ever seen10 Things I Hate About You?’

‘Oh my God. Julia Stiles?’

‘Kat, yeah. She was pretty and mean. I was into that.’

‘That’s very telling.’

‘By all means, psychoanalyse me. I’m into that, too.’

Audrey elbows me in the ribs and I clutch my chest in fake-agony, half-moaning, half-laughing. I have no idea how we stumbled on to the topic of formative crushes – we were talking about what we’d choose for our last-ever meals, beforehand. And before that – I don’t know. Music, maybe? It’s early,earlymorning and aside from an incipient hangover, everything is pleasantly hazy. And Audrey is in my bed. I’m still struggling to wrap my head around that one.

‘You’re not actually hurt, are you?’ she says, peering over at me.

‘Maybe,’ I say, prodding myself. ‘I heard a crunching noise. Is that normal?’

‘Very funny.’ She smiles, looking so adorable that I automatically glance away. Given the context, it doesn’t feel ethical to be this happy about her being here. But she’s so close and sweet andbeautiful, pale hair mussed, a pillow crease imprinted on her flushed cheek. She smells like mint, too – I felt her stir, heard her creep to the bathroom and back to brush her teeth while she (presumably) thought I was sleeping. I almost definitely should’ve done the same.

‘What are you thinking?’ she asks. ‘Your face just went all serious.’

‘I’m a serious guy,’ I say, glancing back at her. ‘But … that this is nice, I guess.’

‘Yeah?’ she says, voice lilting upwards.

‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘I’m sorry if that’s fucked up.’

‘Oh. Because I’m fucked up?’

‘No,’ I say quickly. Then – ‘Are you?’

‘I’ve been better.’ She smiles faintly. ‘It doesn’t justify me leeching off you, though.’

‘Leeching?’ I laugh. ‘That’s strong.’

‘Not really. I’m always falling apart all over you. Crashing here. Wearing your clothes. Eating your food …’

‘Wear whatever. Eat everything. Steal every towel in the place.’

‘I’m bringing them back!’

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