Page 107 of Foes & Cons
I nod and sit down, sprawling backwards. The sofa’s lower than I thought. I clamber into an upright position as Vivian watches me and smiles.
“Er . . . congratulations, by the way,” I say, amazed I manage to get the words out.
“Thank you,” she says, quietly and reserved, not at all the way I’d say it. “That’s not what you wanted to talk about though, is it?”
I shake my head, and she clasps her hands over her knee.
“What can I do for you then, little one?”
“Well,” I say, taking a deep breath. “I kind of hoped you’d help me with something.”
“Helpyou with something? Don’t you want Roxy to help you, whatever it is? You’re a little team, or whatever.” She clears her throat and looks around the lobby. “Where is she anyway?”
I stiffen, even though I’d prepared for this.
“I don’t actually know. We haven’t spoken today. She didn’t come back to the room last night.”
“I know,” she says, biting the side of her thumbnail, her green eyes wide. “I mean, nothing happened but she needed somewhere to stay so . . .”
“Fine,” I say, rubbing my forehead. “I mean . . . it’s none of my business what she does.”
“Of course it is,” she says, frowning. “Isn’t she your bestie?”
“Yes, but . . .”
“Aren’t you like a mama bear when it comes to you and yours?”
“Huh?”
“I mean, isn’t that why you hate me?” she says. “Because you’re protecting your friends?”
“What?” I say, my head spinning. “I don’t hate you, Vivian.”
I say the words, but they couldn’t sound more unconvincing.
“Lies, lies. Everyone hates me – or they love me – I totally get it though,” she says, shrugging.
“You do?”
“People –somepeople,” she says, looking me up and down, “make their mind up about me before they’ve given me a chance.Somepeople like to put other people in neat little boxes. A box for nerds. A box for jocks. A box for hotties. Do you know whysomepeople do that?”
I shake my head.
“Self-preservation. So they can stay safe intheirbox. Sometimes though, they don’t know what’s in the other boxes until they’ve opened them. Maybe they’ve misjudged what it says on the outside.”
“OK . . .” I say.
This conversation isn’t going the way I thought and it’s making my brain hurt.
“Do you get what I’m saying?” she says.
“No,” I say,totallygetting what she’s saying.
She smiles and inches forward on the sofa.
“Look, I’m not here to get between you and Roxy, or you and Charlie,” she says, her full lips in a serious line. “I actually think you seem fun.”
“Then why do you call mebitchall the time?”
