There are no customers in the shop, so I put down the cleaning rag and spray I’ve been using and sneak a look at my phone. Nothing but a text crammed with typos from Murph that proves his night was way messier than mine. Not a single message from Layla. Just when I thought things were untangling themselves.
I shake my head, as though that’ll somehow shake her out of my system.
I know she was upset. Even Trent, who has the emotional IQ of a tractor, knows that. But why is she freezing me out?
Giggling explodes through the store and I look over to the counter. A group of girls who graduated from Durnan’s private school last year have swarmed through the door, and Trent, who’s meant to be balancing the till, is flirting hard, like it’s a competitive sport.
He invites them to hang with him and the boys tonight. One of the blondes leans across the counter, chest spilling out of her top, and tells him to put his number in her phone. She winks, he grins, then there’s a lot of hair tossing and pouting and teasing from her friends.
I return to wiping the bookshelves, trying to trick myself into thinking about anything but Layla and wondering if the cleaning spray has seeped into my brain.
* * *
At five thirty I switch the shop sign to Closed and lock the door.
Trent smacks gum next to me. ‘Coming with, bro? Those girls are keen, I reckon.’
‘Nah, might sit this one out.’
‘Why not? Is this about Montgomery?’
‘Nah, course not.’
‘Well, the old man’s been riding you hard. Let off some steam, bro, it’s Friday.’
‘You want to go out? Where people will see us? Together?’
‘Let’s roll,’ he says. ‘It’s about time the Dark brothers tore up this town.’
* * *
I’ve barely sat down in the beer garden when I spot the blonde with the phone squeezing past crowded tables to make her way towards Trent and me.
She waves at me, I elbow him.
‘Don’t shit yourself, bro, I’ll handle it.’
Moments later we’re surrounded. The girls fight for Trent’s attention as he leans back against the pool table, his shirt straining at his chest. I may as well be draped in an invisibility cloak. I check my phone. Nothing. Layla can probably smell the desperation seeping through her phone.
A collective ‘Oh wow’ erupts within our circle. All the girls’ goopy-mascara eyes are pasted on me. One of them — maybe Denny? — places her hand on my knee. I sit up, startled.
‘Milo, I can’t believe you nearly died,’ she says, clutching her chest. The others all nod, sucking hard on their straws. ‘I mean … it’s so … scary.’
I try not to stare at the piece of mint caught between her teeth. ‘Sorry … what?’
‘Trent told us what happened to you at the river,’ she continues. ‘When you almost … drowned.’ She whispers the last part, like she’s filling me in on a top-secret mission. ‘Lucky he was there to save you. I mean, can you imagine?’
I look at Trent who gives me a quick wink. ‘That’s what he said?’
Denny nods. ‘But he was more humble than I’m making out.’
‘I bet.’
‘Tell them about the car accident, Milo,’ Trent says, slurping his beer. ‘This guy has nine lives, I swear.’
I try to catch his eye to tell him to shut it, but he’s too busy smiling at the girls.
Another girl gasps. ‘An accident too?’
‘Nearly wrote off a car but pulled it together,’ Trent says. ‘I was pretty freaked out.’ Freaked out? Yeah, right. ‘I’m just glad he’s okay, you know?’
I take a sip of my cider, mainly so I don’t combust right there.
Trent calls the girls into a huddle. ‘Bet you ten bucks he says I’m lying, playing it down to impress you all. Doesn’t want to seem like a big-shot.’
‘Ah, can you give me a sec?’ I say, holding up my phone and pretending I have a call.
I leg it to the bar. Trent trails behind me, waiting ’til the girls are out of sight before clipping me over the ear.
‘Oi, I’m pulling hard for the two of us back there. Which one do you like?’
I head into the pokies room. ‘Geez, you’re a tool.’
He follows me in. ‘What?’
‘You “saved me”? That’s your new pick-up line?’
‘It’s just a story, no harm fudging the details,’ he says, pulling up a stool. ‘They’re loving it.’
‘Can you hear yourself? It’s pathetic. From what I’ve been told, you didn’t “save” anyone. You just stood on the side of the river watching me bob around face down.’
‘Back up, mate, I was a kid too. What, you buy into the whole “Trent nearly ruined our lives” theory? I know Dad’s been pumping it for years, but you?’ He puffs out his chest a little. ‘Low.’
‘No, I didn’t mean …’ I sigh. ‘I don’t know what I freakin’ mean. But why are you even bringing up that stuff? Durnan’s small enough without complicating things.’
‘Just trying to help you out. Throw you a bone. Maybe literally.’
I sigh. ‘Jesus, man. I’m sure they’re nice but … nup. No way. Not going there.’
‘Let’s have a boys’ night then. For real.’ Trent clinks his glass against mine, then inhales half of it.
We sit for a bit and let the pokies’ jingling and whirling fill in the quiet.
‘No-one blames you for what happened to me,’ I say. ‘Not even Dad.’
‘Bro, I was the lump who almost let you die.’ He gulps more of his drink. ‘Ask anyone, especially the old man. But you know I’d never deliberately hurt you, right? Right?’
My cheeks feel warm. ‘Yeah. Course.’
‘Good.’ Trent slaps the counter. ‘Now … enough mushy crap.’ He raises his beer. ‘Cheers to the Dark brothers and turning your crappy little life around. If anyone can do it, it’s you, golden boy.’
I roll my eyes and look at my phone again. Big fat nothing.
Trent glances at me. ‘Montgomery?’
‘Nah, she’s ghosted.’ I raise an eyebrow, ready for him to give me crap for caring.
He shrugs. ‘Relax, bro. Sal’s left you all paranoid. She’s probably just working.’ Pause. ‘Or maybe she’s phased you after she realised you’ve got a micro-penis.’
‘Is that why she ruled you out in high school?’
Trent roars with laughter, then pulls me towards him into a loose headlock, ruffling my hair ’til it’s spiking out in every direction.
* * *
Milo: Life update: I’m eating Joe’s chips in bed on a Friday night #foreveralone
Milo: Are we on for the river tomorrow at 1 or …?