Page 103 of The Wake-Up Call

“No, eww,” I say, peeling a banana and splitting it into the blender.

“ButLucas...”

“Yeah, it’s a bit different, he looks like a Brazilian god,” I point out, whirring the blender. “Sorry, milkshake. Mr. Figgle looked like a meerkat.”

“Do you think... maybe...”

“It’s OK,” I assure her. “You can be Mean Jem.”

“Sometimes you can be a tiny bit stubborn? And sometimes... you like to take the easy option.”

I pour out my milkshake in silence.

“Sorry, I love you,” Jem says. “I love you, I love you.”

“Yes, I love you, too,” I say tetchily. “What do you mean, take the easy option?”

“Well, committing to a relationship with a man who’s hurt you before? That’s hard. Having sex with him and insisting that you don’t want anything serious? Much easier.”

This blows my mind a little. It feels terrifyingly true.

“Shit.”

“Truth-bomb?” Jem says apologetically.

“Yeah, kind of. I felt like doing it this way would be safe,” I say,testing the thought out, chewing my bottom lip. “But when I realised he’d left the flat, I felt...”

Jem waits patiently. But I do feel the pressure of her impending frostbite.

“I felt scared.”

“Ooh, OK, now we’re getting somewhere!” whispers Jem. “Scared of what?”

My voice keeps getting smaller and smaller.

“...Having lost him.”

“This guy you hate, you mean?”

“Fine, hate is over-dramatic, I know that. But we don’t get on. We disagree on everything. We argue all the time. He behaved like a twat last Christmas and never apologised!”

But even as I say it, a hundred other things come to mind. How fiercely he stands up for what he thinks, even when it would be easier to back down and agree with me. How his eyes go soft when he talks about his baby nephew. How he pulls me against him when I turn up at his door, like he can’t stand another second of distance between us.

“What would happen if you talked to him about last Christmas, little pigeon?”

I recoil at the very thought. My whole body shrinks inwards as though someone’s doused me in cold water.

“No,” I say firmly. “No, we have a rule about talking about the past.”

“Do you think... maybe...”

“Go on, just say it.”

“Do you think this is why you made that stupid rule in the first place?” Jem says in a rush. “Like,whydon’t you want to talk to him about last Christmas?”

“Argh. Because—Jem, it’s so humiliating.”

“And why’s that?”

---