Page 136 of Not Quite Dead Yet

Her eyes prickled, a new sheen, made the stars even brighter.

‘Yeah,’ Billy said. ‘I’ve thought about leaving, I have.’ He glanced over at her, Jet saw in the corner of her eye. ‘But there was always something keeping me here.’

Jet sniffed. ‘Not realistic anyway. Life can’t be about that, about wasting time. Has to be about something bigger, doesn’t it?’

Billy shrugged, not so easy lying down. ‘I don’t know, I think it might be simpler than that. I think life is about finding your person, your one person.’ He paused. ‘And you better make sure that they really love you back, so they don’tjust pack their bags one night and abandon you. They have to love you back. That’s it, I think.’

Jet looked over at Billy, hair and grass bunching, tickling her neck. Should she just tell him about his mom? Did she owe Billy that, before the end? But it might change things and Jet didn’t want this to change, didn’t want Billy to look at her any different, that sparkle behind his pale blue eyes. If Jet had time, she wanted it to be like this. Just this.

‘Look.’ She pointed up at the sky, drawing a shape with the stars. ‘Do you see it? No, look this way, Billy. Yeah. That’s its eye, that’s the other one. It’s a frog, see?’

Billy laughed. ‘Of course you see a frog. You love frogs.’

‘You don’t see it?’

Billy breathed out, looked at her. ‘If it’s a frog to you, then it’s a frog to me.’

‘It’s a frog.’

She dropped her arm to the grass. Turned to smile at Billy.

‘Soooo … are you cold too?’

‘Absolutely freezing,’ he laughed, teeth chattering. ‘And I’m soaking wet.’

‘Me too. Shall we …?’

‘Yeah.’

Billy stood up, towering over her. He bent down, reached out, offered her his hand.

‘Err, Billy,’ Jet said, dragging her head up, pushing her neck into folds. ‘Wrong hand.’

She waved with the working one.

‘Shit, sorry,’ Billy hissed, switching hands.

Jet snorted, eyes finding Billy’s. He snorted too, and that fucking did it.

Jet exploded with laughter, couldn’t hold it in, rolling onto her side, ribs against the ground, dead arm somewhere beneath her.

Billy laughed too, hard, harder, weaving in and out of Jet’s whistling old-man cackle.

‘Why are we laughing?’ Billy laughed, bent double, tears in his eyes.

‘I don’t know.’ Jet struggled to speak, to breathe. ‘It’s not even funny.’

But it was, it was the funniest thing in the world and all the stars, and they laughed and they couldn’t stop.

Not when Billy found the right hand this time, pulled Jet to her feet.

Not as they stumbled away, crashing into each other, laughing too hard to walk straight.

Jet’s stomach ached with it, and she forgot about the worse one in her head.

Billy would try, swallowing the laughter, his after-sigh setting Jet off again, because it was catching, and they both had it.

Red-cheeked and snotty-nosed and scrunched-up eyes.

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