Page 3 of If We Were Young

Her smile dropped. “Why? Because of him? Are you thinking you can stay here so he knows where to come and find you? I’ll tell you straight, Ronnie. That won’t happen.”

“No.” My cheeks sizzled, and it had nothing to do with the heatwave baking the back garden until the earth on my Ma’s lawn had cracked like over-baked terracotta. “It’s just, you know.” I tried to swallow around the tightness.

“You can’t speak to people and throw up at the first sign of stress?”

I nodded.

Ange narrowed her eyes into lizard slits. “But you’ve been better. I know the first few weeks at uni were a bit, well how can I put it… vomitty.” She pulled a face at her lacklustre adjective. “But you’ve been better.”

“And you know why.” I shifted and tugged at my vest top.

“Maa-the-ewww.”

“Not funny.”

Ange’s face dropped as she sucked on her cigarette again.

“What?” Something about her expression put me on a trigger warning. And when I said trigger warning, what I meant was that any mention of my former best friend, Matthew, was likely to make me wail like a banshee and set myself alight on a pyre in the garden.

I know. Dramatic.

“What exactly happened that day? You know you should just tell me.”

I slunk down, pulling my shoulders up close to my ears. “Nothing.”

“Nothing? You cried for a week and you are now on a self-imposed exile.”

“I’m not telling. Why do you keep asking?”

“Because.” She paused. “I saw Scott.”

“Who’s Scott?”

“You know. Ma—”

I cut her off. “Don’t!”

“Okay. Ugh. I’m gonna have to dig deep here.” She paused and looked like she was thinking very hard or trying to fart. “You know that bloke with the strawberry blonde hair, freckles. He was friends with a six-foot four Scottish brute, and he captained the football team?”

“Oh, the guy you shagged in Professor Carpenter’s office and then we all got lectured by the Dean for irresponsible behaviour?”

“Totally, one hundred percent that one.”

My heart skipped a beat. I hated it. Would have dug it out of my chest if it wasn’t for the fear of Ma telling me off for making her lawn worse. “Okay? And he’s the reason you ran here? Is he going to make an honest woman of you? Are you going to keep the baby?”

Angela’s face paled. “What baby? Honest what?”

I snorted and stretched my leg out so I could poke her with my toe. I waited for her to smile back, but she bent over and took too long to stub out her ciggy.

“Angela?”

When she looked up, she had the slightest hint of genuine concern on her face. That’s when I knew something was wrong.

My brain went to funny places. Who could be hurt? Had someone hurt him?

Something bloody bad must have happened for Angela to look even halfway serious.

“Is it…?” Acid crept up my throat.