I stare at her unsmiling face. Oh. I get it. She’s just like everyone else. All this bullshit about loving Akash and wanting to help me – but actually she’s ready to move on.
‘You’re sacking me?’ I ask, just to be sure.
‘Like I said, you can reapply officially. And listen …’ She leans forward and touches my arm. ‘I know how much you love the galleries, Neena. You can come in any time. Don’t feel –’
‘You’re sacking me!’ I say again, as it sinks in. I came here with Akash when I was a kid. It was our special thing. Dad would drop us by the door and Akash would take me round the exhibitions: ‘Look at the colours in this one, Neens!’ We’d make up stories to go with the paintings. Afterwards, we’d always sip hot chocolate with cream at the cafe.
This place brought out the best version of him.
I don’t want to leave.
Everything about Akash seems to be slipping away.
But Rosie squeezes my arm, and I realize she wants me to leave right now. ‘I’m sorry, Neena …’ She stands up.
I stand too. My legs are wobbly. Rosie opens the door and I walk out with her. She smiles a proper smile now, like the Rosie I know, the Rosie Akash knew. ‘Come back and see us, OK?’ she says.
Suddenly I’m angry. With absolutely everything. With Rosie, and Raheela, with Mum and Dad, and with Jay. With the whole goddamn world.
‘Forget it,’ I say, giving her a hard, cold look. ‘Just forget it.’
I storm through the rush of people coming out from an exhibition, past the busy cafe and out of the double doors. Then I’m outside, and I’m on my own. Again. I try not to think about how much I’ll miss this place. Or how much I miss Akash. I concentrate on breathing.
Everyone pretends they care, but they all push me away.
Ever since everything happened, everyone just pushes and pushes.
As I walk through the centre of town, heading towards the bus stop, I realize how much trouble I’m going to be in with Dad. I can just hear him now. Sacked? His face incredulous. And what have you done now, Neena? What will I say? What can I tell him? No, I can’t tell him I got sacked. But I have to tell Mum and Dad something: they aren’t expecting me home for hours. Maybe I could tell them I’ve quit to focus on exam revision? Yes, that’s a brilliant idea. It’ll keep me in Dad’s good books.
But then, as I hover in the middle of a busy street in town, I have an even better idea. What if I don’t go home? Instead, I could go to see Josh. Mum and Dad will never know. I could see him every Sunday afternoon when they think I’m working. I will be a brilliant girlfriend – he keeps saying he wants to see me more often out of school. And I can make up for the kiss with Jay.
I message Josh to see if he’s home. He replies immediately, telling me to come over.
A small fire starts to burn in my belly as I get on the bus. I squeeze on to a seat next to an old lady and take a deep breath. Maybe I’m not jinxed after all. Maybe I was supposed to lose my job.
Could this … could Akash be helping me? This is exactly the sort of thing he would do. I message Fi to tell her – she’ll be proud too.
She replies straight away.
Good girl! Come see me too!
I will! I’m freeeee!
I do worry as I get off the bus and walk down the road to Josh’s: I can’t help it. My throat and chest go tight. I mean, I’m walking to Josh’s house in broad daylight when I should be at the art centre. But I concentrate on inhaling and exhaling and I keep an eye out for signs of anyone I know, and it calms me. The street is completely deserted and the better thought that I’m holding on to takes over again: I’m going to make everything up to Josh.
Then I’m standing on his doorstep. I reach up and press the bell and watch the sky-blue door until it opens. Josh grins at me. He’s wearing shorts and a T-shirt. I wrap my arms round his neck. He smells of soap and apples. All clean and crisp and fresh.
‘I came straight from work,’ I say, suddenly aware that I must look a mess.
He looks down at my clothes and laughs. ‘Yeah, I see you’ve made an effort for me!’
I feel awkward, and he must see it in my face because he adds: ‘I’m just teasing you!’
I force myself to laugh too.
‘Come on in,’ he says. ‘My mum’s out.’ And he holds my eyes with his until my stomach feels tickly inside. My heart beats fast. He takes my hand, pressing my fingers against his warm palm.
Inside, the house smells of cinnamon and vanilla. Instead of curtains, frilly lace covers the windows. Coloured wooden beads sway in the doorways rather than actual doors. Josh leaves to get us some drinks and my hands shake as I look around the living room: I’m suddenly very nervous. Above the fireplace there’s a beautiful painting of a single boat at sea by moonlight. My heart skips a beat. I want to look at it properly, take it in, but I can’t focus.
Josh returns with two hot chocolates. ‘Shall we go up to my room?’ he asks.
I nod. I don’t trust myself to talk. Klaxons and alarm bells are going off in my head left, right and centre – this is literally the exact opposite of everything my parents have ever told me to do. I try to shut them out.
Josh glides ahead of me, like this is no big deal. As I follow him up the stairs, I spill hot chocolate on my white T-shirt and quickly rub it in. Not that it’ll make a difference along with all the other stains.
But I need to pull myself together.
Fi would waltz on ahead, leading the way. She never seems to get nervous. Cool and calm, that’s what I want to be. Like Fi. Like Akash. My brother was the coolest and calmest. I count backwards from ten to calm myself, like Akash taught me to do as a kid.
We get to a doorway and Josh parts wooden beads to let me into his bedroom. Once we’re in, they clatter behind us like musical notes. It feels weird not to have a proper door for privacy, but there’s something reassuring about it too. Makes it feel less official, I guess. We are alone, but I could easily leave the room if I wanted. Not that I want to. I don’t.
I look around the room. Light blue walls. Normal blue curtains in here. The smell of zesty aftershave. Schoolbooks on a shelf. Astronomy books on another shelf. A telescope by the window, pointing towards the sky. It’s cosy. Very Josh.
He sits on his bed and messes around with his phone, flicking through different songs until he settles on one I don’t recognize. Some old guy singing and playing a guitar. Mellow. I put my hot chocolate on the floor and sit on the edge of the bed next to him. All I can think is –
Oh. My. God. I’m in Josh’s bedroom. Sitting on his bed.
I can’t mess this up, but my mouth’s so dry. I pick up the hot chocolate and drink a bit. No alcohol in this one. Suddenly I’m thinking about Jay. I feel sick.
‘What’s wrong?’ Josh says.
I must have zoned out. I look at his bright, kind face. I cheated on you, I want to tell him; I want to spill it all out so that it stops taunting me. But that’s selfish, and I can’t hurt him like that. I can’t ruin everything between us. Instead, I say: ‘I can’t stop thinking about Akash.’ And I realize it’s true. I am thinking about Jay, but I’m also thinking about Akash, wondering if he sat on that mattress next to Jay, wondering what else Jay knows about him that I don’t, and if he ever had one of those purple drinks and drank it too fast.