Page 44 of The Love of My Afterlife
“Yes. Ever so sorry,” Cooper adds, also bowing his head a little.
Is he making fun of me?
Mrs. Ernestine rolls her eyes and backs away into her apartment, glaring at the pair of us until her door is closed again.
Cooper reaches his hand out towards me, and I’m pretty sure he’s going to touch my cheek—the thought of which makes my face flame—but his hand moves swiftly to my hair, slowly plucking something out.
He holds up a yellow petal between finger and thumb. I pat my head self-consciously. It must be from Frida’s flower crown.
“Thank you,” I say stiffly before turning and running up to my flat, slamming the door behind me.
In my flat, I immediately grab my laptop and search Jonah’s name plus “dancer” and “the Shard.”
Stillnothing? Jeez.
“Why are you so fucking elusive, Jonah?” I huff. “I’m literally depending on you for my life.”
I imagine Jonah grinning at me, running a hand through his lovely caramel hair. “I’m worth the effort,” he says in my imagination. I picture running my own hands through his hair, and a little shiver of delight softens the anxiety for a brief, beautiful moment.
“Merritt, you have to help me,” I mutter. “Can’t you see I’m doing everything I can? Please!”
I wait for a text, an appearance,anything. But nothing happens. With a sigh, I take my sketches out of my bag and unroll them on the kitchen table, pinning them flat with salt and pepper shakers. I touch a finger lightly to one of them, a close-up of Kat’s face drawn in a free, almost loopy style. My heart lifts, despite itself. Thisisgood. I glance over at the stack of oil paints I’m forever buying but am too scared to open. I wonder briefly what life would have looked like if I’d never stopped making art. Would I still be in this situation? I push the thought away.
There’s a firm knock at the door.
My heart leaps. Merritt? Though surely she would never do anything as pedestrian asknocking.
I open up to find Cooper standing there, arms folded across his chest.
I sigh. “If you’re coming to me with anything that could be even slightly considered stressful, then I beg of you, go back from whence you came. It’s been a tricky day.”
“Whence you came?Why are you talking like that?”
I narrow my eyes. “Actually, I’m not sure. I think it’s your formal demeanour. The, you know, stiffness. I respond in kind.”
“The stiffness?”
“Oh, come on. You must know that about yourself,” I say, backing into my apartment as he takes a large step in and closes the door behind him. “I’d even go so far as to say you’ve cultivated it.”
“The same way you have with your ‘I’m a lone wolf’ shtick. And itisshtick.”
“You must know all about shtick, making things up for a living?”
“I don’t do that anymore.” Cooper clears his throat, strides across the room, and sits on my sofa without being invited to. His jeans hitch up. His socks are yellow.
I throw my hands up. “What do you want? I am currently trying to find my way out of a rather large life pickle and I’m short on time.”
“I see. Can I help?”
I narrow my eyes. He’d only be offering to help if…“You need another favour?”
He shifts in his seat and runs his hand over his jaw. “I do. I was going to ask you downstairs but you literally ran away.” His voice dips with disbelief.
I tut. “Like I said, I’m short on time. Anyway, did you not hear what I just said about bringing chaos to my doorstep?”
“Like you did with me when you barged into my flat and insisted I help you? Look, I really am sorry for being rude the other night. My sister…It’s not something I talk about. Ever. With anyone.”
I soften slightly. “I understand. I shouldn’t have been so nosy. How can I help?”
