Page 73 of Fruit
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Joshua is being even quieter than usual as we do some prep-work for the art club. We’re sitting in the common room of the youth centre, tucked away in a corner, and I try not to be obvious as my stomach tightens with worry. Joshua’s mom had seemed adamant about keeping Joshua away from his dad, but it isn’t unusual for people to take abusive partners back after things have died down.
“Something on your mind?” I ask him.
He shrugs, and a reel of worst-case scenarios starts spinning in my head, only to be cut short as Joshua glances to the side tellingly. I follow his gaze and see Hugo there, helping Jasmine out with something.
Relief rushes through me. Boy trouble. I’m a pro at that.
Well—at giving boy trouble advice, at least.
“How are things going with Hugo?” I ask. His eyes snap towards me before he looks down, frowning.
“Fine. What’s that supposed to mean? Why wouldn’t they be?” Joshua mutters.
“Oh, I was just asking. I always see you two together, and he’s pretty cute…”
“Ew, gross. Aren’t you, like, fifty?”
I gape at him. It suddenly hits me that, although he’s clearly joking, I’m an adult to him. Like, a full-blown adult. It has me spinning for a moment before I regroup.
“Okay,excuseme, foetus maximus, I am in the prime of my life,” I say with mock offence.
Joshua laughs, and I’m glad to see his expression clear.
“You should go for it,” I say after a moment, nodding at Hugo. Joshua blushes, frowning furiously.
“Shut up. No I shouldn’t.”
“And why not?”
“’Cause.”
“’Cause…?”
“’Cause! He should be…he should get someone better.”
“Better?” I say incredulously, even though Joshua’s opinion of himself should not come as a surprise. “So, you don’t want him to be with someone resilient, brave, hard-working, creative, funny? ’Cause that’s what you are.”
“I’m a fuck-up,” Joshua says angrily.
“Fucking up is a behaviour, not a characteristic, Joshua. Even if it was true that you’ve messed up in the past—which I think is untrue to start off with—it would matter more what you do now, what you plan for the future, than the mistakes of the past.”
Joshua shrugs, looking down.
“Joshua, what kind of person is Hugo? Is he smart? Intuitive?”
“He’s the smartest person I know.”
“So, then. Don’t you think you should let him decide what kind of person he should hang out and be with? Don’t you think he’s smart enough to make that decision?”
Joshua just shrugs again.
“If he sees something in you, it’s for a reason. Maybe try to see what he sees, instead of assuming you know better,” I say gently.
Joshua scoffs, hunching into himself. I know I’m not going to magically change his mind about himself. These are opinions ingrained deep in the wood of his soul, and buffing them out safely takes the erosion of time and persistence. Still, I’ll be part of the soft touch diminishing their depth.
“Look, he’s looking over,” I tell Joshua, nodding towards Hugo. Joshua lifts his head and catches Hugo smiling at him. “Told ya,” I say, tapping Joshua’s arm with my elbow. He looks away, rolling his eyes, but I see the smile twitching at the edge of his lips.
