There’s no need to get Spencer to notice the flaws in me, too.
“Ha! Suck on that, fucker!” Spencer cheers.
Beside us, a furious mother ushers her child away.
The claw drops a Sleeping Beauty into the prize shoot. Spence reaches down to grab it and presents it to me like it’s a gold medal.
I take the stupid princess and smile. “Why, thank you.”
“Can I watch you stick needles in her? She only cost me seven pounds, so go nuts.”
“You’re a strange one, Spence.”
“What do you want to do next? Steal a small child’s cup of pennies? Push an old lady over?”
I hug Aurora to my chest. “Can we walk on the beach for a bit?”
“Are you going to complain that you’re cold?”
“Probably.”
He tilts his head.
“I won’t complain,” I promise.
The second we step into the cold air, I want to complain.
I press my lips together and he smirks. “I didn’t say anything,” I tell him.
“You didn’t need to. Come here.” He holds his arm out for me, and no way am I refusing that.
I’ll take what I can get. We don’t touch nearly enough but it would be weird if I started grabbing onto him as much as I want to. Nothing has been the same since we broke up.
I press my side into his and wrap my arm around his back, the way he’s done with me. We’ve always been super comfortable with each other. Even before we tried a relationship… for literally two weeks.
Icy wind howls around us, blowing my long hair behind me like a cape. Spence holds me closer and we walk slowly down the steps before we reach the pebbly beach.
“Do you want to go as far as the sea?” he asks.
“No, there’s sand over there and I’m wearing trainers. Plus, it’ll be col—” I press my lips together again.
His face smug. “Col, what?
“Shut up.”
“So mean, Indie.” His eyes are smiling.
My heart leaps.
I love you.
Eight
Spencer
We finish our chips inside the restaurant, since she would moan if I tried to eat on our usual bench outside.
“Those were so good. I forgot how much I love the chips here.”
“You’ve not been back?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “Not since the last time we were here.”
I can’t say I’m disappointed to hear that she won’t come to this old, run down beach without me. We both love that it’s quiet and in need of a lot of TLC. This is our beach.
“It’s not far from home,” I say.
“I should bring all of my dates.”
All?
I feel the scowl on my face. “How many men are you dating?”
My stomach clenches harder than when I do a hundred sit ups, which is now most fucking mornings, thanks to my satanic trainer. Indie’s single. I’m sure she is.
“You’re joking, right?” she asks.
No, fucking tell me. “You never said that you’d met someone.”
“I haven’t! I was kidding. When I date, you’ll be the first to know, Hollywood.”
That nickname is sticking. “I’ll need to check him out. He won’t be good enough. Not even if you find an actual prince.”
“I guess I should give up now and buy the cats.”
“You don’t like cats.”
“I’ll be a career woman who hates men and children.”
She would be an incredible mum. “That’s the spirit.”
“Hey, I could work as your PA when you’re a superstar. I’d bring you crazy, random shit that you absolutely have to have in the green room. I’d pay damages to hotels when you wreck the rooms.”
I wrap my chip paper up. “If you’re my PA, I can think of a far better use for your talents.” Like with those thick lips and killer legs.
“A movie star screwing his PA. How original.”
I laugh. “Do you need me to get you home?”
Her eyes lose their light.
What is her home like?
“I’m not in any rush. Unless you need to do something?”
“Not a thing. I’m yours all day… and evening, it seems.”
“You’re going to love drunk indoor crazy golf.”
I raise my eyebrow. “You’re going to get drunk?” I’ve never seen her have more than three drinks before. I’m not a big drinker, either—never have been after the first time I got paracletic. I don’t like the loss of control.
“No, but I’ll have a couple of cocktails. They’re meant to be really good.”
“I’m driving.”
“We can take my car, if you like?”
I turn my nose up. “Not a chance. You ready to go?”
“What’s next on the list?” She sits straighter. “Doughnuts?”
“It’s like taking a kid out for the day,” I mutter.
“We were kids when we started doing this.”
I look up and smile, thinking about seventeen-year-old us at the beach. I was nervous around her a lot at the time. She was everything, and I was scared that she’d pick someone better.
The first time I kissed her was right by the sea; the cold water licking our feet as we held onto each other. She was right when she broke things off two weeks later. I turned eighteen the day after I landed the role of Jack Miller—the original actor pulled out—and we were too new. She’s been my best friend since we were eleven. Neither of us were willing to fail long-distance and be left with nothing. We need each other. I couldn’t function properly without her. I’d rather be her friend than lose her completely.
“Everything was so much easier back then.”
“Yeah, but look what you’ve achieved now,” she says.
I smile at the sentiment. The role was pure luck, really. My school teacher Mrs Bea really pushed me role. She had contacts all over the world and just happened to speak to the producers of Quarantine about me. They asked for headshots. Mrs Bea also sent a video of my strongest performance. Everything happened so fast, I still can’t get my head around it.
Indie wraps up her leftover chips. “I’m ready when you are.”
I take her for the best doughnuts, and then we climb into my car.
The second I start the engine, Indie presses her palms to the warm air blasting out of the heater. She
