Chapter 28 #3
“You don’t know that.” I leaned forward a little, trying to catch his eyes again.
“Trust me, I do.” He shrugged, but it was tight, defensive. “Knowing my mum’s track record, he’s probably either dead or in prison.” He took a slow sip of his milkshake, as if the cold might steady him.
“Oh.” I stared at him, taken aback. I hadn’t expected that.
And now I wasn’t sure what to say.
“Sorry,” he said, probably realising my reaction. “I didn’t mean to dump all that on you. I-I don’t even know why I told you that.” He shook his head again.
“It’s okay. Don’t apologise.” I said with a smile. “I asked.”
Just then, Callum came back into the booth with two milkshakes in either hand and a big grin on his face, practically vibrating with pride.
“She told him she was nineteen,” he said, eyes sparkling as he glanced toward the window where Rachel was now talking to Dan out on the pier.
“I know.” I laughed, shaking my head. “Is one of them for me?” I nodded toward the milkshakes he was clutching like newborns.
“You didn’t say you wanted a milkshake.” His eyes widened dramatically as he cradled them closer to his chest.
“So you’re having two of them?” I stared at him, incredulous. “You fat bastard.” I nudged his leg under the table.
“Don’t fat-shame me,” he said, feigning deep offence as he puffed out his chest. “I’m a growing lad.”
“You’re a pain in the ass, is what you are.” I rolled my eyes, and Alex let out a small laugh beside me. I couldn’t help smiling at the sound - stupidly pleased by it.
“A pain in the ass with two milkshakes,” Callum declared proudly. He stuck both straws in his mouth and slurped loudly, a horrifying mix of strawberry and chocolate swirling together.
I wrinkled my nose. “That’s rank.”
“It’s good,” he insisted, eyes going beady with excitement. “Try it.” He shoved both cups toward me, and I pushed them back immediately.
“You can’t judge it if you haven’t tried it.” He ushered them closer to me, the frustration evident in his tone.
“I can and I will,” I said, folding my arms across my chest.
“Such a sheltered life you lead.” He rolled his eyes dramatically. “You’ll try it, won’t you, Alex?” He slid the glass toward him. “Tell him what he’s missing out on.”
“Oh-” Alex shuffled in his seat, but amusement flickered across his face. “I would, but I’m allergic to strawberries.”
“Really?” I turned to him, eyebrows lifting.
He nodded, fingers tapping lightly against his glass.
“That’s rough,” Callum said, shaking his head like it was a tragedy. “You’re missing out.”
“Well, don’t tell the boy that,” I said, shooting Callum a look. He blinked at me, clueless.
“What?! He is,” Callum said, palms up.
“It’s fine,” Alex laughed. “He’s right. I am missing out.”
“How would you know?” Callum challenged, leaning forward.
“I had a Victoria sponge cake when I was little-”
“But that’s not a strawberry?” Callum frowned.
“The jam,” I said - at the exact same time Alex did. We both looked at each other and smiled.
“Anyway,” Alex continued, “it was really good up until my throat started closing up.”
“He can’t have cake, lad - are you hearing this?!” Callum looked at me like the world had ended.
“He can have cake. Just not anything strawberry.” I laughed at his stupidity.
Alex nodded, amused.
“So do you have one of those pen things?” Callum questioned, leaning in with way too much interest.
“An EpiPen,” Alex corrected, nodding. “But I’ve never had to use it.”
“That’s good,” I said, offering him a small smile. The thought of him not being able to breathe made something twist uncomfortably in my chest.
“You have it on you now?” Callum asked, eyes widening again.
“Yeah, I have to have it at all times,” Alex said, gesturing to his bag. “Just in case.”
“Let’s see it, then,” Callum said, practically bouncing.
“No-don’t listen to him,” I said quickly, stopping Alex with a hand on his arm. “You don’t have to show him your EpiPen.” Then I glared at Callum. “Mate, this isn’t show-and-tell.”
“I know that,” Callum said, pouting. “I was just curious.”
“Well, be curious somewhere else,” I said, just as Rachel and Dan returned. Callum shuffled over, and Rachel plonked herself into the booth while Dan pulled up a chair.
“So what are we talking about?” Rachel asked, digging into her half-melted sundae.
“Alex was just about to show us his EpiPen,” Callum announced proudly.
Rachel screwed up her face. “Why?”
“No, he wasn’t,” I said firmly, giving Callum a look that shut him up instantly.
“Fine,” he muttered, hands raised in surrender. Alex smiled at him, amused. For once, Callum’s obnoxiousness was actually helping - Alex looked more relaxed than he had this whole time.
As the table fell into a natural rhythm of conversation, Alex’s shoulders loosened, the tension around his eyes softening. I found myself watching him without meaning to.
Then his phone rang - sharp, sudden - slicing straight through the calm.
Alex flinched, his whole body stiffening.
Whatever name flashed on that screen changed everything in an instant.
I felt my brow crease as he stared at it, frozen.
“Uh, I’ve got to go,” he said, already half-standing. His fingers fumbled with the phone, his breath catching.
Rachel’s eyes widened.
“Is everything okay?” I asked, trying to control my now erratic heartbeat.
“Yeah,” he said quickly, scratching the back of his neck. “Everything’s fine, I’ve just got to go.” He forced a smile - one that didn’t reach his eyes.
“But it’s not even half twelve,” Rachel said, concern tightening her voice. “You were supposed to be okay until one.”
Okay until one .
What the hell did that mean?
“I know,” Alex said softly. “I’m sorry.” He gestured for me to move, and I slid out of the booth to let him pass.
“I’ll see you on Monday,” he told Rachel. Then he turned to me. “Thanks for sitting with me.”
“Of course,” I said, steadying myself with a hand on the table.
“Bye.” He gave a small wave, the word heavier than it should’ve been.
“Bye,” I echoed, lifting my hand. His eyes held mine - a beat too long - like he wanted to say something else. Then he turned and practically ran out the door, the bell chiming behind him as it swung shut.
And just like that, he was gone.
Rachel’s eyes followed him as he left, tracking him through the window as he lifted the phone to his ear.
She didn’t blink, didn’t move, just watched him pace a few steps down the pier until he disappeared behind a group of tourists.
Only then did she let out a long, deflated sigh and turn back to the table.
“What was that about?” I asked, my gaze locking onto hers before she could look away.
“Nothing.” She shook her head quickly, too quickly, her spoon scraping against the melted sundae as if she suddenly needed something to do with her hands.
But her voice was quieter.
Her shoulders were tighter.
And the spark she’d had moments ago - loud, sharp, devious - was gone.
She was definitely lying.
…But what about?