Sophie’s stomach made an angry snarl that meant she couldn’t just politely say she was fine. The couple of crackers she’d forced down earlier so she could take her meds weren’t enough to last.
“Umm…”
“Let me see what we have,” Mrs Su said, already returning to the kitchen.
When Sophie turned back to Win, she looked the closest she’d seen to flustered, avoiding Sophie’s gaze and bringing an arm across her body like a barrier, hand resting on a bicep that had more definition than Sophie’s.
“How come you’re here?” Win said, still not looking up. “Not that it’s not nice to see you. I just… It’s a long way to come. If you’d sent me a text I’d have made sure I beat Sunny to the shower.”
“I couldn’t text – Mum confiscated my phone. I’m grounded.”
Win’s gaze swept from Sophie’s fringe to her feet and back to her eyes. “I can see.”
Sophie pressed her lips together. Win didn’t need to know that Sophie had got dressed, waited until her mum had gone out into the garden to inspect the strawberries, then moved as fast as her body would allow down the stairs and out the front door. She especially didn’t need to know that Mum had an account with the local taxi company for days when she couldn’t take Sophie to school, and that her daughter had shamelessly abused this account to get here.
“I came over to say that I’m sorry for how I behaved last night – all yesterday, really.” Her whole world had crumbled apart and Win had been someone who’d helped her hold it together – coming to Kellan’s party, sitting with her on the front wall, coming to get her after she’d gone down to the river… “I got so caught up in wanting to know what Freya was playing at that I forgot anyone else existed.”
“She was your best friend, Sophie. I get it.”
“I know you do. And” – she swallowed, hoping her throat might stop trying to squeeze itself shut – “it means a lot. All of it. Driving me round, coming to the party.”
“Any time,” Win said, with a wry smile.
“How about today?”
“Drive you back home? Sure, I just need to shower—”
But Sophie was shaking her head, conviction settling any doubt. “I came out because I don’t want to stay home. I can’t revise today, going over old work – I’m tired of looking at the past. Yesterday was all about Freya. I want to do something fun that’s about us. Now.” All of a sudden Sophie worried that this seemed a bit desperate, coming over to Win’s and begging her for a day out she wasn’t even sure she had the energy for. “About all of us, I mean.”
“Even Ryan?”
Sophie pulled a face. “Maybe Ryan doesn’t have to come.”
“RYAN DOESN’T HAVE TO COME WHERE?” came a bellow from the stairs above and Sunny, towel wrapped round her, leaned over the edge of the bannister, hair dripping down the wall.
RYAN
Ryan woke with a heart full of Freya and a head full of fear. Jesus. Freya couldn’t possibly have phrased it worse than she had. How was he going to talk Kellan down from that?
Still in yesterday’s boxers, he stumbled down to the kitchen where Jules was dressed like a photoshoot. Dragons fought an embroidered battle across the shoulders of a silky-looking thing that wasn’t long enough to count as a dressing gown, worn over a long white shirt and skinnies with the cuffs turned up, knobbly ankles out on display.
“Looking sharp,” Ryan said.
“I know you’re being sarcastic.”
“The only language I speak.” Ryan inspected the ends of the bread for mould before putting them in to toast. Across the kitchen, Jules was drinking something fruity and healthy-looking straight from the blender. “Mam out?”
Jules nodded. “She’s started that running club, remember?”
Neither Ryan nor Mam paid enough attention to know what the other was up to.
“She’ll be back soon.” Jules looked at the clock on the cooker that had run two hours and ten minutes ahead since the last power cut. “So if you want a shower…”
“What are you saying, like?”
“That you stink like a wrestling ring.” Ryan could feel Jules looking as he mashed a lump of peanut butter onto his toast. “What happened to your face?”
“Nothing. What happened to yours?”
“Have you been in a fight?”
Ryan shoved so much of his toast into his face there was no chance of answering. His jaw hurt as he tried to chew, the swollen skin on his face straining with every move. Raising his eyebrows at Jules, he pointed up to the bathroom to show where he was going.
When he checked his injuries, Ryan was disappointed that they weren’t a little more dramatic. Sure, he was a little bruised round the jaw and there was a cut across the bridge of his nose, but beyond a bit of swelling, that was pretty much it. On the plus side, Mam probably wouldn’t pick up on anything.
Like everyone else in this family, she thought Kellan was beyond perfect. If she found out the two of them had been fighting, her nephew wouldn’t be the one she blamed. Not that giving her any context would help. Hard to blame the dynamite for blowing after the fuse has been lit.
The cold light of day – or rather the damp mist of the bathroom – gave Ryan no clearer idea of how he’d get out of this without Kellan landing another couple of hits to a face that was too sore to take them.
It’s not like Sunny would be there to save him next time…
The only option Ryan had was to wait for his cousin’s temper to cool to something a little less violent. Maybe try to explain over a string of texts or something … anything that didn’t involve being in the same place at the same time.
Sound carried in this house and Ryan heard the murmur of voices from the kitchen as he crossed the landing. Hopeful of cadging a little cash, he pulled on a pair of joggers and grabbed something clean off the pile (a tank top, as it turned out), hurrying down the stairs in bare feet ready to turn on the charm.
The kitchen door was open, framing Mam as she stood by the sink washing out the water bottles. Running club was all her own thing – instead of the usual Personal Trainer polo issued by the gym, she wore a violently bright racer-back vest that showed off tightly muscled shoulders and biceps to beware. When she turned to see him in the doorway, she raised a half-washed bottle in greeting, forearms all tanned skin and sinew.
“The kraken wakes.” The closest Mam got to a joke.
“I’ve been up for—” his sentence stumbled as he stepped further into the room. “Hours.”
Slouched against the corner of the counter was a third member of Ryan’s family. One that didn’t belong.
“Hey, Ry.” Kellan’s smile glittered with menace.
“Hi.”
Ryan’s eyes flitted to where Jules was standing in the corner furthest from Kellan, mug held close as they tried to become one with the fridge door. A flicker of understanding passed from one to the other. Jules got it.
Mam wouldn’t.
“Pop the kettle on, Ry. Did you want something to eat, Kell?” Mam tipped the last bottle up to rest on the draining rack and turned to open the box of eggs on the side. “I’m making an omelette.”