Chapter Sixteen
‘Come in?’
‘Hi,’ Ollie says, still in his pyjama bottoms and a T-shirt. ‘Am I all right to …’ He gestures inside my room.
I’m in my dressing gown, getting ready to shower. ‘Yeah, come in.’ I’m not sure I hate him any more. I’m not sure what I feel towards him. I’m wary. Ollie’s going to lay into me again, isn’t he?
I watch him curiously as he looks around my room in the light of the dim table lamp, although he’s been in and out of here loads, borrowing something or delivering me a cup of tea so many times. He can be really kind. He can also be an interfering twat.
I sit on my bed and wait for him to say something. He pushes the door so that it remains ajar.
‘I don’t want to wake either of them.’ He nods his head in the direction of Ben’s and Liv’s rooms.
‘Wise,’ I say to fill the silence. ‘Was my alarm too loud? Did I wake you?’
‘No. But I wanted to see you before you went. Can I sit down?’
‘Is that why you’re up so early? Did you set your alarm?’ I pat the edge of the bed and he sits near me.
He yawns. Nods. ‘I’ll have to get used to getting up early if I’m going to be a doctor.’
‘You are going to be a doctor.’ This should feel so much more awkward than it does. Small talk to fill the void before … before I don’t know what.
He yawns again, not quite here. ‘Yeah.’
I wait.
His eyes meet mine. ‘Don’t leave,’ he says simply.
‘Don’t leave to go to the airport or don’t leave uni?’
He takes a deep breath. ‘For your long-term future, I don’t think you should leave university. That’s it. I couldn’t articulate a reason before. I’m articulating it now. You haven’t got long left. You’ve thrown away so much money being here and—’
I cut in. ‘And spending any more is just good money after bad, right?’
‘No,’ he says. ‘Don’t be clever. You’re putting words in my mouth.
There’s nothing more to it than this: if you leave, you’ve wasted all that time and money.
Even if you get a third, you’ve got a degree.
It’s something on your CV, to ready you for whatever comes next.
If you leave, you’ll have nothing – literally nothing to put on your CV. Nothing to help you get a job.’
‘I’ve got a job,’ I say.
‘Are we talking about modelling?’ he asks.
I grit my teeth, ready for the onslaught.
‘Yes,’ I say tightly.
‘I don’t know anything about your new world,’ he says. ‘Be honest: how stable is it? Does it pay OK?’
‘Unstable. But it does pay OK.’
‘So why not keep going with uni and do modelling on the side and—’
‘Because I’m miserable here,’ I tell him.
He looks surprised. ‘Miserable? Are you?’
‘Yes. I want to quit. I want to focus on modelling. But I don’t want to leave you guys behind.’
‘Behind?’
‘That’s not what I mean,’ I say hurriedly. ‘Can I keep living here, if I’m no longer one of you.’
Ollie smiles a lopsided sort of disbelieving smile. ‘Not one of us? What a mad thing to say. You’ll always be one of us. You’ll just be smiling at a lot of cameras while we slog it out, doing exams. How long can you keep modelling for?’
‘Until I’m no longer young and beautiful,’ I joke, before making a grimacing face and crossing my eyes, curling my lips back and showing all my teeth like a horse.
Ollie snorts with laughter and I let my features relax. I can’t help but smile and watch him, while the air is clearing between us finally. This last week has been horrid, with him leaving the room every time I walk in.
‘You’ll always be beautiful,’ he says, but he can’t look at me when he says it.
‘Thanks,’ I reply softly. ‘Why have you been avoiding me?’
‘I shouted at you. I felt a bit shit.’
‘I felt a bit shit too,’ I confess.
‘Bet you wish you hadn’t asked my opinion now,’ he suggests.
‘Perhaps,’ I concede. Then I change my mind. ‘I’ll always value your opinion, Ollie. I love talking to you. You are, annoyingly, the voice of reason.’
‘That’s a backhanded compliment, but I’ll take it,’ he says. ‘I’m pleased you’re not leaving the house.’ He reaches out his hand to squeeze mine.
I squeeze his back. ‘Me too.’
Neither of us let go and it’s nice, sitting here like this on the edge of my bed with Ollie. He’s easy to talk to, when we aren’t arguing like we were before. He riles me all the time and we hardly ever see eye-to-eye, but mostly it’s discussion. I like that. I never had that until I met him.
His hand leaves mine and he stands up. ‘I’ll let you get ready to go.’
‘I’d forgotten about that,’ I say honestly, rising quickly and glancing at my watch.
‘What time is your taxi coming?’
‘Taxi? I’m not that rich yet. I’m getting the Tube to the airport.’
‘At this time? It’s dark. Want some company to the station?’ he asks. ‘I can offer you absolutely no protection whatsoever in the event of us getting mugged, but I’m good company while it happens.’
I laugh and it’s like it was before, between us. ‘I’d like that,’ I say.
Twenty minutes later, when I’m showered and dressed, Ollie carries my suitcase down the stairs and out into the street, rolling it along behind him as we walk together in comfortable silence to the Tube station.
He’s pulled trainers on and a puffer jacket, but in the haze of the street lights I can see he’s still in his pyjama bottoms. It makes me smile.
He carries my suitcase down the station stairs for me and, before I tap my card to go through, I turn and hug him, giving Ollie the tightest squeeze I can manage at this hour.
He watches me as I go through the barriers and raises his hand in goodbye.
I raise mine back and we smile at each other before I head towards the platform.
There’s something about this entire morning with Ollie that makes me feel that although today marks the end of something huge in my life, it also marks the beginning.