Chapter 3
Inever asked for a nemesis, but I suppose now I have one.
And I definitely didn’t request one with such horribly, distractingly beautiful eyes.
So pretty that I’m making a constant effort to try not to look directly at them.
(Given he’s my nemesis and nemeses should not engage in such thoughts.) But they might be the brightest shade of blue I have ever encountered.
If I saw this man on a dating app, I would have believed him to be some kind of bot, catfishing poor single women like me into thinking I might be in with a shot – he is that painfully handsome. Annoying.
It’s a shame that he makes me want to rip my hair out, and has possibly disagreed with every single thing I’ve ever said. And stolen from me. All within the first five minutes of meeting him.
Resisting the urge to kick him, I decide to try to push my point.
‘Well, in the case that you are wrong – impossible for you to imagine probably, but stay with me – and we’re both still holding onto it at dusk on Sunday, what happens to decide the owner? Arm wrestle? Thumb war? See whoever does the best jig?’
Hennie snorts beside me. He runs his free hand through his hair again, looking bemused. ‘Sure, let’s go with that.’
‘Which one?’ I falter. ‘I’m not sure what a jig entails, if I’m honest.’
‘We’ll look it up,’ he says mildly. ‘I’m curious to see how you’d pull it off.’
I pause, unable to prevent the frown growing on my face. ‘This really isn’t a joke? We’re both going to be that stubborn and not let go?’
His eyes sweep over me once more, hesitating. For a second, he seems unsure of himself. ‘I suppose so.’
I huff an exasperated laugh at the situation. This could potentially end very badly. The image of me having a panic attack enters my mind; he would have no choice but to witness it from a foot away. I am opening myself up for total disaster.
I can’t help myself though. For reasons I can’t really explain, I’m curious to see how this deal might play out.
‘Alright, with no other option to win my stick with honesty and integrity, I see no other way. Let’s do it,’ I say.
With no idea what I’m really doing, I stick my free hand toward him over the top of the drumstick.
He observes my outstretched hand with a raised brow. ‘Really?’
‘Come on, it’s what people making a deal do. They shake hands.’
Rather unexpectedly, he chokes out a laugh and turns his face upwards to the heavens, as if he’s cursing the Firecrest gods for attaching his existence to mine.
His eyes capture me again, and he lifts his hand to shake mine awkwardly over the top of our already attached other limbs. I battle the urge to break his wrist.
‘Let the best fan win,’ he says.
I nod. ‘I will, thank you.’
Hennie is observing the scene with fascination, smiling to herself and twirling a smooth icy blonde lock around her fingers.
‘Good luck to you, kid. I hope you’ve realised by now there’s absolutely no way you’re winning this,’ she says to him with a mocking salute. She’s right.
I realise that I still don’t know his name.
‘I’m Nora, by the way. It’s nice to meet… um, a fellow Queen Ego fan,’ I lie.
‘And neighbourhood thief,’ Hennie utters.
‘Nora.’ His eyes bore into mine, that small smile still tugging on his lips. ‘I’m Elliot.’
‘And I’m Hennie,’ she adds.
‘I gathered,’ he says with a touch of warmth.
‘Okay, well – as much as it pains me, we may as well make the best of this scenario and try to actually have a bearable weekend–’
‘He’s alive! My boy!’ a voice rings out.
‘Elliot, watch–’
‘He’s alive!’
I twist around in confusion to see two men running at us through the remains of the crowd with huge smiles and one of them collides with Elliot so violently he nearly knocks him to the ground. Sadly, Elliot’s grip on the drumstick is absolute.
‘Answer your phone, you freak,’ he says, backhanding Elliot’s shoulder good-naturedly.
He’s all long, sharp edges and crooked teeth as they gleam in possibly the biggest smile I have ever seen, it would almost appear frightening if it weren’t so impossibly endearing.
His face is framed with dirty-blonde hair sticking up at mad angles that’s been tucked inside a white bandana, and he towers over everybody by at least a foot.
I actually have to tilt my head back to look at him.
He notices Hennie and I with a frown. ‘Oh my God,’ he says with genuine astonishment as he eyes us. ‘Are you actually talking to people? Have you made friends?’
‘No, he hasn’t,’ I cut in with a glower.
‘Oh, really?’ he replies, looking absolutely delighted. ‘That makes more sense. Could you elaborate please? What has he done now?’
‘We waited for you,’ his other friend interrupts with apology in his tone.
‘Couldn’t hold Ham back, sorry.’ This guy seems more like Elliot in manner; he’s measured and self-assured but he gives us a warm smile nonetheless.
He has deep-brown skin and short, thick braids, and is wearing an outfit that potentially rivals Hennie’s in boldness: an oversized neon orange sweatshirt with a vintage-looking logo and baggy jeans.
‘Sorry, guys. I got – um.’ Elliot’s gaze flicks to me. ‘Caught up.’
I feel my face flush at the way he says it, like I’m a nuisance. Which, technically, I suppose I am.
Elliot gestures to the tall man who is leaning happily on his shoulder with the lopsided grin. ‘This is Ham–’
‘My name is Josh, actually,’ he says sharply.
‘Otherwise known as Josh Hamilton, which is why everybody calls him Ham,’ his other friend explains.
‘Yes, a name I am still unsuccessfully trying to shake off, no thanks to these pricks,’ Josh snaps as he shakes Hennie’s hand with vigour. ‘Tremendous eyebrows,’ he adds matter-of-factly to her.
‘Thanks,’ she says with a grin.
‘This is Owen,’ Elliot says, motioning to his other friend.
He gives us a polite nod and I can’t help but notice the deep dimples that appear when he smiles. The combination of them with his eager eyes and open expression is immediately disarming, so disarming that I must admit I’m surprised Elliot seems to be friends with him.
‘So…’ Owen starts, nodding down at the drumstick. ‘What’s this all about?’
Elliot remains stone-faced as I regale the tale of The Drumstick to his friends until he feels the need to interrupt.
‘You didn’t catch it first, we’ve established this–’
‘We’ve established nothing, actually,’ I counter.
Josh throws his head back and cackles loudly – so loudly that the last few people remaining from the Queen Ego crowd spin round to locate the source of the sound.
I didn’t even notice that the majority of the crowd has cleared out, leaving us standing in an almost empty field in front of the stage.
I feel strangely exposed given my new circumstances and feel the urge to throw a puppet on top of our hands to hide the stick.
‘Either way, your friend has been on what some might refer to as “horrendous form” by not letting Nora keep it,’ Hennie says.
‘Ah, an accusation!’ Josh presses his hand to his heart with a dramatic gasp. ‘Of poor form, no less. Will his crimes never end? How do you plead, Walker?’ he asks, holding an invisible microphone towards him.
Elliot responds with an affectionate roll of his eyes and swats his hand away.
‘He is incorrigible,’ Josh says, shaking his head.
‘Wait, wait,’ Owen cuts in. ‘So you – both of you – you’re really gonna hold on to that stick and stay attached like this?’
‘Wait.’ Josh’s smile freezes on his face. ‘Is this not a joke? I thought you were winding us up. Or it was some kind of performance art.’
‘Well, not really.’ I shrug. ‘I’m too stubborn to give in and apparently so is he.’
Owen stares at us for a beat before doubling over, wheezing with laughter. ‘This is so good, I love this. Really, I do. You have to respect wanting something that much; it’s kind of amazing.’
‘Kind of amazing… and also mad?’ I say.
‘Yeah.’ He beams. ‘But you know, in the good way.’
‘Is it?’ Josh says with a frown. ‘You’re both gonna go insane. Have you met Elliot?’
‘What do you mean?’ I ask.
‘Yeah, what do you mean?’ Elliot adds with a glare.
‘Listen, you know I love you, babydoll,’ he says to Elliot. ‘But if we were attached at the hip for longer than a few hours we’d kill each other.’
‘Why?’ Hennie asks, crossing her arms. ‘Any warnings? Anything we should be prepared for?’
‘Aside from his thoughtful and scintillating conversation,’ I say.
Elliot’s head snaps to mine with a scowl, and Josh erupts with laughter again at his expression.
‘Ham is, as always, just being dramatic,’ Owen interjects. ‘You’ll be fine.’
‘Seriously, though? What about going to the bathroom?’ Josh asks with disgust.
I meet Elliot’s eyes again. He looks as uncomfortable about this as I feel.
‘We’ll, uh, work that out as we go,’ he says quietly.
‘You can’t follow her in, dude. That’s not polite,’ Josh says.
‘Behave yourself, Ham,’ Elliot begs him, wearing a tortured expression. ‘Please.’
Josh then receives a harsh elbow from Owen. ‘Yeah, shut up, you’re freaking the girl out.’
‘Sorry, I’m just messing with you.’ Josh’s face lights up. ‘Although I am personally concerned for you about the bathroom situation.’
‘Aren’t we all,’ I mutter to myself.
‘Well, fine. Looks like we should all get acquainted if these two are about to become superglued at the hip,’ Hennie suggests.
‘Yeah, so true.’ Josh nods sternly. ‘How do you feel about K-pop?’
Hennie and I turn to each other, brows raised. ‘Good?’ we both say with a shrug.
‘Mmm.’ Josh’s lips press together. ‘Disappointing.’
This explains the K-pop group that adorns the huge white t-shirt that hangs over his lean, tanned limbs.
They nod politely as Hennie and I introduce ourselves.
‘I’m sorry about them.’ Owen gestures at both of his friends. ‘You’ll get used to them eventually.’
Getting used to Elliot is not something I can see happening, but I appreciate the sentiment.
‘Just to be clear,’ Josh says hurriedly.
‘I don’t even really like ham. It’s not a meat-preference-based nickname.
’ His voice is airy and high in comparison to Elliot and Owen’s rumbling deep tones.
Elliot snorts before shaking his head incredulously.
He’s noticeably more relaxed in their presence – his body has loosened and his shoulders have dropped significantly.
And I have to say, I can see why. I can’t force the smile off my face from the boys’ infectious warmth.
‘Untrue, he carries ham with him everywhere,’ Owen retorts. ‘He calls it his “bag meat”. Don’t you, Ham?’
‘Ignore him. He’s misleading you, he is sick and twisted,’ Josh snaps.
My eyes trail down to Josh’s small crossbody bag, briefly wondering if there really is ham in there. He must notice it as he exclaims, ‘Fine, I’ll prove it! I won’t stand for this assassination of my character.’
But then he reaches into his bag and, indeed, pulls out… a square piece of wafer thin ham.
‘Oh, you fucking losers,’ he breathes, venom in his eyes. ‘When did you even put that there?’
‘Genius,’ Elliot murmurs to Owen.
Owen turns to us with a smirk. ‘Sorry about him, his behaviour can’t really be explained–’
He is interrupted by the ham flying at his face, letting out a loud yelp as it hits his cheek. He retrieves it with a grin and runs over to unapologetically rub it into Josh’s hair.
‘Oh, you fucking – I hate you–’ Josh splutters while laughing, attempting to prise Owen’s hands away.
Elliot covers his mouth with a fist as he tries to cover his laughter and I take in the sight, realising it’s the first time I’ve seen him really smile.
I can’t help but stare at the tiny dimple that appears next to his mouth and the crinkles that form around his eyes.
It’s astoundingly pretty. So pretty that I almost feel my cheeks flush until I get a hold of myself.
‘Great, now I’m going to smell like sandwich,’ Josh complains, but he doesn’t look upset. If anything, he looks like he’s desperately trying not to laugh too. He aggressively rakes his hands through his hair and nods toward the boys. ‘You see what I have to deal with? Sick and twisted.’
Owen just shakes his head, his face blank. ‘I did not put that there.’
‘Oh, shut up,’ Josh barks. ‘And grow up.’
‘You grow up.’
Hennie and I exchange a look. Her lips tremble with mirth.
Without pause, Josh flips the conversation to report they should get going to a different stage.
‘You guys know Linnea?’ Owen asks. ‘She’s great, and it’ll be a perfect show for The Magpie.’
‘You guys are really coming?’ Josh says, gesturing at Hennie and I.
‘Yes, they’re coming,’ Elliot says in a bored tone.
‘Cool,’ Owen says simply with a nod. ‘Let’s go.’
Josh’s face lights up with his wolfish grin once again as he bounds behind us and briefly rests an arm on each of our shoulders. ‘Alright peaches. Welcome to the greatest weekend of your lives.’
Elliot sighs as Josh begins to prance away. ‘You don’t mind going to see Linnea?’
We didn’t make plans to see any acts right after Queen Ego. I shrug a shoulder and look at Hennie.
She beams. ‘Might as well start bonding.’