Page 113 of Prove You Wrong

‘Well, I can guarantee I won’t be distracted by a stupid guy again.’ My voice flutters out in a thin laugh. ‘You’ve got my full attention now.’

‘What do you mean?’ Chloe eyes me suspiciously. ‘What have you done?’

I sigh, ‘I called it off with Nate –– ’

‘You did what?’ she shrieks over me. ‘Why?’

‘That’s not important.’ I shake my head. ‘It’s done.’

‘You’re a fucking idiot.’ She spits out the words.

‘Er, thanks.’ I copy her usual sarcastic teenage tone. ‘And …Swear Jar.’

‘You are!’ she huffs. ‘Why have you dumped a gorgeous, thoughtful, lovely, sexy guy like that?’

‘Chloe,’ I warn.

‘I mean, he’s too old for me. But as old guys go, he’s fucking hot.’

‘He’s not old, andlanguage!’

‘It’s situationally appropriate,’ she snaps. ‘He’s fucking hot and you’re a fucking idiot.’ She crosses her arms across the patterned hospital gown, flicking a line away before all her tubes and cables get tangled.

‘You wouldn’t understand.’ I soften my voice. ‘It wasn’t meant to be.’

‘Try me.’ She raises her eyebrows in a challenge.

Scrambling to remember my usual argument, I say, ‘He’s not a good influence for me to bring home. I shouldn’t have let him meet you.’

‘I don’t believe this. And don’t put this on me.’ She scowls. ‘What’s not good about him?’

I sigh, ‘He reminds me of the type of guy mum used to bring home.’

‘Examples, please.’

I swallow, trying to collect my reasoning. ‘He rides a motorbike.’ It comes out as more of a question.

‘He borrowed a car to give me lifts to places,’ Chloe counters.

I scrub at my forehead, reaching for excuses. ‘The buzz cut, the tattoos, the leathers … ’

‘What buzz cut?’ Chloe’s going to bring on early wrinkles with all the frowning she’s doing at me. ‘He didn’t have one when I saw him last.’

I think back. Nate’s hair had grown out a bit in the course of my knowing him.

‘And those tattoos?’ she continues, ‘They were like a piece of living artwork.’

She’d noticed too, huh.

‘He’s not particularly meaningfully employed.’ I pick at a loose thread on Chloe’s sheet, trying to avoid her scrutiny. Avoid admitting my arguments are as thin as the hospital linen.

‘Didn’t you say he had at least two jobs,andhe volunteered? That’s more than most.’

‘They’re hardly steady careers.’ I try to regurgitate all the reasons I’d told myself in the beginning, but, even to my own ears, I don’t sound very convincing.

‘Judgey much?’

‘I … ’ I gape at her. ‘I … I just want to do what’s best for everyone.’

---