“Oh, yeah. What’s that?”
He shrugged nonchalantly as he plopped back onto the couch. “Just admit we’re friends.”
“Are we though.”
“We could be. You just gotta lean into it.”
I smirked. “All right. Fine.”
“Yeah?” he asked.
I nodded. “Sure. We can be friends. But I have ground rules.”
He laughed, “Of course you do.”
“We can be here for homework help and the occasional hang out–”
“And just generally be there for each other,” he added.
“Yes, sure. And just generally be there for each other. But,” I warned, my tone serious. “No falling for each other.”
He crossed his heart as he shook his head. “No! No way. Not happening.”
“No,” I agreed. “We’re so not each other’s type.”
He looked me up and down and nodded. “Definitely not each other’s type.”
I nodded as well. “Good. So no risk we’ll fall for each other.”
“Nope. We’ll be just friends. For always.”
“We’ve been friends all of five minutes, how do you know it’ll be always?”
He grinned at me. “You know how you just know things?”
“No. I research and discover and learn.”
“Yeah, you just know things. Well, think of this as something I just know.”
“Your optimism is going to kill me, isn’t it?”
The smile he turned on me was near blinding. “It might.”
I huffed a laugh. “Great.”
Chapter Ten
Jake and I had been messaging back and forth a bit. And when I say a bit, I mean a bit. It was all going fine until I was required to continue the small talk, then it all fell apart and the chat would stagnate for a while.
It didn’t seem to bother him. He seemed to make a point of coming past my seat in the Dining Hall just to say hi now and then. Or he’d stop me in the corridor and we’d have a chat that involved a lot of hair tucking on my part, and coyly cocky smiles on both parts.
He was nice. He wasn’t creepy. He seemed interested. That was the trifecta, really.
He wasn’t the only guy hitting the trifecta in my life.
Alex was also nice. Alex was also not creepy. And Alex also seemed interested. Although, as we’d well-established in our ground rules, interested in friendship. I think I regretted my decision to be his friend more often than not.
“Hi, friend,” Alex sang one morning in Week 9 as I staggered out of my bedroom.
I shook my head. “Friends don’t throw chipper optimism in friends faces before noon.”
He laughed. “Friends don’t let friends be grumpy.”
I looked at him and realised my fierce glare probably just looked like barely-awake squinting. “Your optimism is legit just going to make me more grumpy.”
“Is it, though?” he asked.
I nodded. “Yes.”
“What if I told you I was accompanying you to breakfast?”
I smile despite myself. “You think that will make me happier about being awake?”
His smile was, unfortunately, infectious. “You’re smiling. You’re already happier.”
Curse him. He was right. I still felt like I’d just crawled out of a bog and the blanket of drowsiness still hung over me, damp and clingy. But, inside, I felt lighter. I smiled because I felt happy. Tired, but being vertical didn’t seem quite so bad after a few minutes talking to Alex.
So maybe I protested too much. Maybe – just maybe – the reason I told myself I regretted being his friend was just because I enjoyed having something to complain about. It might have also just not been used to having a friend who went out of their way to talk to me so much. Nor a friend who’s first instinct was to try to make me laugh when I was in a major introvert mood.
It annoyed me that I appreciated that about him.
I realised I might actually miss him when we went on Easter break.
“You know what doesn’t make sense?” I asked as we walked to the Dining Hall.
“I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”
“Easter.”
He looked at me like I’d just suggested we have a daring threesome on the quad. “What? How?”
“It’s meant to signal rebirth and new life, but that doesn’t work for us. We’re heading into Winter.”
“What?” he repeated.
“Well, it all stems from the pagan celebration for Spring, doesn’t it?”
“Does it?”
“Yes.”
“Then why did you ask?”
“It was rhetorical.”
“You’re rhetorical.”
I rolled my eyes. “As I was saying, Easter comes from the Spring equinox – the whole rebirth of Jesus thing – and it really doesn’t work when Australia’s heading into the opposite of new life and Spring and all that.”
“How do you know these things?”
“I read.”
He shook his head. “I’ll rephrase. Why do you know these things?”
“I like knowing things.”
“It is far too early in the morning for knowledge.”
I scoffed. “Says the guy who gets up at the arsecrack of dawn and immediately functions like a human being.”
Alex smiled. “It’ll be before even the arsecrack next term after the clocks go forward.”
“And yet, you still seem unbothered by this.”
He spun in a circle with his arms out, nearly clocking a few people walking around us and grinning at them apologetically. “Look at all the bothers I give.”
“Right on, Pooh,” I muttered. “Still don’t get it.”
“It’s for swim practice.” He shrugged, like that explained it all.
“Are you a simmer because you’re a morning person, or are you a morning person because you’re a swimmer?” I asked him.
He was still grinning. “I dunno. Porque no los dos?”
Just hearing the quote had me salivating. I frowned at him. “I could really go for tacos right now. Thanks.”
Alex smirked even wider. “Well, you’re in luck. The boys and I are going out to dinner tonight. Zac’s been pestering about it for weeks. You should join.”
I looked him over suspiciously. “Like…on purpose?”
He huffed a laugh. “Yeah. Like on purpose.”
“Are we allowed to do that?”
“You are actually allowed to hang out with me and my friends. They could even be our friends if you give them half a chance.”
I wasn’t going anywhere near ‘our’ anything. “I meant, are we allowed to go to dinner?”
He nodded. “Yeah, Lottie. We’re allowed off school grounds. Your mum would have signed a permission thing at the beginning of the year. We just have to sign out and be back by ten.”
“That’ll suit you and your grandpa bedtime nicely.”
He laughed. Pure and joyous. “It does. Perfect excuse to be back home and in bed at a reasonable hour. Come on, though. We’d love to have you.”
I shook my head, then flailed my arms up. “Okay. Fine. What else am I going to do on a Saturday night?”
He cheered, giving a whole lot more no bothers about who looked at him. “Yes! Brilliant. Okay, we’re leaving at six.”
I frowned as something hit me. “Just how far away is dinner and how are we getting there?”
“You shall see.”
“Or you could tell me now?”
He shook his head cheekily as he headed for the food line. “You signed on. Just let the rest happen, mon amie.”
“I’m going to regret this. I am so going to regret this.”
“No regrets!” he whooped as we got our breakfast.
I had no choice but to smile at him and his antics. I couldn’t help it. It wasn’t just his smile that was infectious.
n
; “There’s a student garage?” I asked, looking at the cars.
Alex nudged me. “There’s a student garage,” he said excitedly.
I nodded. “Of course there is.”
Birdman clapped his hands together. “We’re gonna need to take two cars.”
“Where are we going?” I asked.
Zac grinned at me. “You’ll see.”
“Yes,” I muttered. “So, I’ve been told.”
“Who’s driving?” Fret asked.
Alex laughed. “I vote the two of us with our Ps.”
Fret nodded. “Makes sense. Shotgun Zac’s front seat!”
“E, you coming with me?” Alex asked.
For a moment, something quite close to a something zinged between us. I wasn’t sure what kind of something it was, but there was the potential for it to be a something else. I chose not to look too closely at it, but the small attention I paid to it suggested it was a nice something.
By the time the boys had argued over who was sitting with who, Alex and I ended up in his car together and the others all went in Zac’s car.
“This is the first time we’ve been out,” Alex told me as we drove along behind Zac’s car.
“That’s comforting.”
Alex laughed. “Not the first time we’ve driven. Don’t worry, Zac and I both got our Ps in the Summer holidays. It’s just the first time we’ve put it to good use and escaped school.”
“I thought you liked school?” I asked him.
He smiled. “I do. I love school. I was catering to you.”
“I don’t hate school,” I said.
He shrugged. “Not now we’re friends, no.”
I laughed. “Of course, because the world revolves around you.”
“You noticed, too?” he asked, full of cheeky sarcasm. “I thought it was just me.”
I smiled as I watched the bush wiz past us. It was almost Easter holidays, but the sun was still going to be up for a little longer.
“So, how long do I have the pleasure of your company?” I asked him.
“It’s about a half hour drive.”
“And are you expecting me to talk to you the whole way?”
“You? No,” he teased. “I’m surprised you’ve talked to me this long.” He threw me a grin to emphasise the friendliness of the joke.
“I talk.”
“Rarely.”
“Enough.”
“Debatable.”
“I can carry on a conversation for half an hour.”
“Yeah, but…can you?” he joked.
“What do you want to talk about?”
“Tell me about your latest book.”
“We have half an hour, not half a day.”
“Is that all it takes?” he laughed. “Good to know how to get you talking.”
“It’s really not rocket science.”
“You’re not rocket science.”
“Glad you noticed,” I sassed.
He laughed again. “Come on. You’ve got a book to tell me about.”
So we spent the half hour drive with me telling him about my current book, which so happened to be the last in a trilogy, so I had to give him all the backstory for the rest of the series. He very politely listened to me prattle on the whole time, interjecting only with a couple of questions.
As we got out of the car after he’d parked, he said, “Okay, so I might need to borrow that from you.”
“You can read?” I fake-gasped.
He grinned ruefully. “I can.”
“If I’d known you were going to read it, I wouldn’t have given up so much of the plot.” I’d pretty much given him a play-by-play.
He shrugged. “I like spoilers. Makes me not worry about where the story’s going to go.”
“But that’s half the fun!”
“Half the stress.”
“Reading shouldn’t be stressful.”
“That’s probably why I don’t do it very often.”
I smirked as we met up with the others. “So, where are we going?”
“The café,” Zac said excitedly as we stopped outside a door. “They’ve got everything!”
“They’ve got a decent selection,” Birdman amended, holding the door open for me.
“The nachos might not be tacos, but they’re so good,” Fret told me.
“I like the hot dogs,” Alex said.
We found a seat and Birdman passed me a menu while they all talked about what they wanted.
“It’s tradition to come here on the way home,” Luke explained to me.
I nodded. “Fair enough. Must be good then.”
“It’s the closest café to school. Even if it wasn’t any good, we’d still come here.”
The way these boys ate, I wasn’t surprised at all.
“Double chips?” Alex asked, looking at me from the opposite side of the table. “I assume you’re going to steal mine.”
“I might get my own,” I replied.
“Yeah, but will you?”
Looking over the menu, I thought the burger sounded the best. “Well, I’m thinking burger, and it says it comes with chips.”
Alex nodded. “I’ll get extra. For when you’re done with those and need more.”
“Just how much do you think I’ll eat?”
“When you try these chips?” Birdman asked. “All of them.”
They weren’t wrong. The café chips were the best chips I’d ever had. And I didn’t think the company or the atmosphere had any bearing on that, despite the fact that both were actually awesome.
Hands and arms crossed the table as everyone passed condiments and serviettes to each other or stole chips from each other even when they had plenty on their own plates.
Soft drinks and laughter flowed freely as we talked about school and sports and books and home. I learnt about the boys’ families and friends, and didn’t hesitate to tell them about mine. We shared stories of our lives pre-Acacia and what we wanted to do post-Acacia.
Three hours flew by and finally Alex was spluttering between laughter, “Okay, we gotta get home before we get ourselves grounded.”
We all staggered back to the car, so hyped up on laughing that we looked drunk. I couldn’t remember a time I’d laughed so much or so hard.
Luke, Fret and Birdman all piled into Zac’s car with Fret moaning, “Oh, I might be sick…”
“Well, you shouldn’t have had that third pizza,” Luke said.
“If you throw up in my car, I will leave you on the side of the road,” Zac threatened.
“If you do that, he’ll die and then who’ll clean it up?” Birdman pointed out.
As he got into his car, Zac thought about that. “Fine. You’ll have to spend the rest of the trip in the boot.”
Alex and I laughed as we headed for his car.
“So, was that so bad?” he asked me, his arm brushing mine. “Hanging out with us on purpose?”
I nudged him softly as we walked. “It wasn’t. Thanks.”
He gasped sarcastically. “Did Elliott actually enjoy social interaction.”
I snorted, but had to admit it. “She did, Sasha. Let’s not make a habit of it.”
“No,” he chuckled. “God forbid.”
As I dropped into bed that night, I felt like something significant had shifted in my world. No longer was I Lottie the Loner, future swamp witch extraordinaire. No. I’d been kidnapped and adopted by my roommate and his overly confident and extroverted group of friends. It wasn’t intimidating. It wasn’t really against my will. I found it comforting and felt, surprisingly, good to belong.
Chapter Eleven
Mum had been there to pick me up at two on the dot on our last day of term.
I’d spent the whole evening before pestering Alex about what I was supposed to take home with me and what I was supposed to leave behind. He’d laughed at me mercilessly, but helped me pack.
He’s also insiste
d on meeting my mum in person. And she was just as charmed in person as she’d been over Zoom. They’d talked for a full half an hour before I’d been my usual wonderful self and insisted we go. Mum had gently berated me, but Alex had just laughed it off as ‘typical Lottie behaviour’, because of which I’m pretty sure Mum decided she loved him.
“Alex seems nice,” is what she said to me as we made our way along with a whole bunch of other cars making their way away from Acacia Academy.
I nodded. “He does seem nice, doesn’t he?”
Mum threw me a side-eye. “Is he not nice to you?”
“Oh, no. He’s very nice to me. By which I mean, he’s so nice he’s annoying.”
“Aw,” Mum cooed. “Did you make a friend?”
“I made five,” I huffed.
“Yay!” Mum cried loudly in the small space, making me jump.
I tried not to, but I laughed. “Does that count as joining something?”
Mum looked at me askance, almost like she couldn’t believe who I was.
“What?” I asked.
She shrugged and failed to hide a smile by looking straight ahead. “Nothing.”
“Not nothing.”
“I just don’t remember you quite so quick to laughter,” she said quickly before continuing, “Now, count as joining something? How often do you see them?”
I was happy not to go into anything that resembled me laughing more easily. “I see Alex every day.”
“How often do you hang out with them?”
“Like how often does our club meet, kinda thing?” I sassed.
Mum smiled. “Yes. That exact thing.”
“Alex and I actively hang out probably every few days. The other boys…at least once a week. They all took me to dinner the other night.”
Mum was silent for a while, then she threw me a smirk. “They’re all boys?”
“Ye-es,” I answered slowly, wondering where she was going with it.
“And they’re all…just friends…?”
“Yes,” I said definitively. “They are all just friends. They’re all sports jocks. Totally not my type.”
“I don’t know,” Mum said in an almost sing-song. “It’s not that big a leap from friends to more.”
I rolled my eyes. “Life is not a rom-com.”
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