Page 80 of Foes & Cons
“That seems to be the consensus,” says McKinley, smiling at me.
Sadie blinks at Fake McKinley then turns to her brother.
“That’s the man from breakfast, Charlie,” she says.
We all look at Charlie Chamberlain, whose cheeks are flushing.
“What? I don’t . . . I didn’t . . .” he says, his ears flushing.
“Yeah, remember you said to find out who he was,” Sadie says, nodding. “Subtly.” Sadie looks at me and shrugs. “I don’t know whatsubtlymeans.”
Charlie Chamberlain shakes his head and smiles at Sadie but in anot happyway. “Come on,” he says, putting a hand on her shoulder, “let’s go.”
Sadie says goodbye then rushes over to a stall and takes a red Jawfain hoodie from a rack. I turn to Fake McKinley who’s watching me.
“What?” I ask, checking my nostrils. “Why is everyone staring at me today?”
“Your friend wasdefinitelystaring at you.”
“He isnotmy friend,” I say, folding my arms. Fake McKinley shakes his head and smiles. “What now?”
“Nothing,” he says, smiling.
“I think perhaps this should be more of a silent business partnership,” I say, straightening Dorothy’s merch.
I read a text from Roxy. I sigh and sit back in the uncomfortable chair.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I say, “just Roxy’s not done yet.”
“Is my company that bad?”
“Yes, actually.”
“Fair,” he says. “I’m certainly no Roxy.”
“Nobody is,” I say.
“How long have you been friends?”
“Since primary school. Mrs Spalding used to line us up for lunch according to surname, so I was always stood behind Roxy. One time, Ross Walsh put a daddy longlegs in her sandwich, and I stopped her from eating it. I threw her lunchbox at him, so I shared mine with her.”
“Brought together by the gods of the alphabet and sandwiches.”
“Don’t,” I say, shuddering. “I’m waiting for her to realise our friendship was a total fluke and she’ll leave me for someone better.”
“You don’t think that?” he says. My shoulders slump as I blink at him. “Why do you think that?”
He looks down at me, such sincerity in his eyes, and I suddenly have to offload before I internally combust.
“So . . . the plan was for Roxy and I to go to the same uni: Bristol. She’s studying forensic science, and I’m going to study linguistics.”
“Right . . .” coaxes Fake McKinley, but I think he knows where I’m going with this.
“That’s the plan. Orwasthe plan,” I say. Hesmiles at me, so I just go for it. “I didn’t get in. Roxy doesn’t know.”
“Shit, Eliza. I’m sorry.”
