Page 40 of Tears of Ink

Elijah smiles and waves. “Good, you two are getting along. I’ll leave you to it.”

Jesus. I’m not a bloody babysitter.

He walks off without a backwards glance and I scowl after him. He’s so bloody hot and cold. One minute he’s sitting in my apartment and supporting me as I tell him I’m dropping out of my course, clinking a glass against mine as he helps me carefully wrap my work into newspaper, while promising to keep my secret so his mother doesn’t change her mind about me.

The next he’s looking at me like we’ve never met.

Well, fine by me. I haven’t got time for hot and cold games. I’ve got an installation to launch.

I force a smile at Tabitha. “Come on. I’ll show you where we’ve stashed it all.”

She smiles and falls into step at my side. “I like your tattoos.”

I flush. I’ve decided not to hide them, unless the public are in the house. I shouldn’t have to hide anything. The Fairclough’s invited me here. They can cope with my artwork, even if it’s on my skin. “Thanks.”

We walk down the cool passageway to the room I’ve locked at the end.

“Does it hurt when you get them done?”

I shrug. “A little, I guess, though I think you can become used to that type of discomfort.”

Her eyes widen. “I’m not sure I would. I don’t like needles.”

I laugh. “It’s not like a blood test; it just looks like a pen.”

Her face lightens. “Really?”

“Uh, yeah, but don’t get any ideas. You are far too pretty to cover yourself in thoughts you can’t erase.”

I turn the key in the lock.

“You are pretty, too,” she says, and I find myself blushing.

“Here you go.” I pull on the door and allow it to fall open. She steps in and glances at all the boxes.

“It’s all boxed up.”

“Wanna help me unpack it and work out where it’s going?” I smile a little. She’s sweet, and if she’s here with me, it might stop me thinking of her brother and his broad shoulders and hot and cold games.

“Can I?” She smiles like I’ve told her she can keep it all.

“Sure.” I shrug, “Lets unpack. Sort by colour and material, and then I’ll show you what I was thinking for the house.”

I’m sure I catch a shadow by the door, but when I turn there is no one there.

“That would be so cool. I don’t know what to do with myself, school broke up weeks ago.”

“Then would you like to be my assistant?”

“I’d love that.”

I stare at her pretty little face with her upturned nose and eyes nearly as deep as her brother’s. “I’d like that, too.”

She dives headfirst into the boxes, and I sit back watching her reactions. This will be a good gauge of how my audience will receive them.

My phone vibrates in the pocket of my shorts and I pull it out.

Eli Jones: Thank you.