Page 32 of Do You Ship It

Idodrop both her and Dad a text just to say I’ll be home late (who evenknowsif Dad will be there – he shouldn’t be, but I wouldn’t want to put money on it these days), and I tell them I have a lift and won’t need dinner.

But mostly, I hide out in the bathroom until I hear Jake running back upstairs.

I return to my spot in his bedroom, grimacing at a hairpin that’s become lodged awkwardly and painfully in my hair after my dramatic flop on to the bed a few minutes ago. My whole scalp hurts, actually. I don’t think this is a hairstyle that’s meant to be wornfor such long periods of time – or if it is, I’m just not used to it.

‘What’s up?’ Jake asks, noticing.

‘My hair,’ I say, then laugh because I don’t think he’ll understand. I roll my eyes and try to explain anyway, and Jake nods solemnly.

‘Ah, yes.’ He tosses his own head, as if shaking out a long mane of hair. ‘I, too, know the struggle. Beauty is pain, my dear Cerys, and how we both struggle. It is simplynoteasy, to look as lovely as we do.’

My face warms and my stomach fizzes, but I’m all-too-aware of the interloper, dampening the opportunity for further flirting. Jake notices me glance over at Max, and adds, ‘Alas, our tall, dark, not-at-all-handsome companion knows not of these pains, does he?’

‘Cheeky bugger,’ Max mutters, flipping him off, and even I crack a smile at that.

Now he points it out, though, I guess Maxdoeshave the whole tall, dark thing going for him … And while he’s not conventionally handsome, not with that long hair, he’s … Well, he’s not exactlybadlooking, I suppose. Really, I think, it’s not fair that someone that annoying and judgemental shouldn’t look as ugly as they are on the inside. Max’s full lips and dark eyes framed with thick lashes are anythingbut.

He’s a little shorter than Jake, but broader, more …filled-out, sort of, and his white school shirt is undone a couple of buttons at the top, showing the rope chain of a necklace. Is it the same one he wore with his cosplay? Is it fandom-related, or something else, maybe more sentimental?

Aware that I’m staring, I tear my eyes away.

I feel too awkward to engage in the banter now – too awkward to flirt with Jake in front of Max, and I don’t know Max well enough to poke fun at him without it coming off as mean – so instead I start taking my hair down, holding the hairpins between my teeth so I don’t have to speak. The boys turn to talking about Alfie the goalkeeper and his frenetic relationship with his girlfriend; apparently, there’s yetmoredrama there.

Jake and I wouldneverbe like that.

Whatever Max is saying, he cuts himself off mid-sentence – and mid-eyeroll, too – when he catches sight of me and turns his gaze more fully on me before letting out a loud, sputtering laugh he tries to hide behind a cough.

He fails miserably, blushing.

I sit up, indignant, and take the pins out of my mouth.

‘What? What is it?’ I scowl, but he’s still laughing, and when I turn to Jake his eyes blow wide and he lets out a snort, too, before making a show of hiding mefrom view so he won’t laugh. I scramble for my phone and swipe on to the camera to see, and –

Oh, crap.

My hair is amess. A huge, puffy cloud of pale blonde sticking out around my head in uneven bumps and not-quite curls, so voluminous it stands out several inches – except for the extremely stubborn flat section on the very top where I’d slicked it down with heaps of product this morning. I look totally ridiculous. I watch in the screen as my cheeks turn a bright, almost glowing shade of pink beneath all my freckles and the make-up I tried to cover them with.

Jake’s seen me a bit sweaty after an intense PE class, with some spots or on a bad hair day, butthisis …

This is straight up hot mess – easy on the hot.

Taking a page out of Jake’s book and opting for a joke so they can’t tell how truly mortified I am, I whinge, ‘You’re both horrible, the pair of you.Rascals.’

Jake laughs even harder at that, giving my leg a nudge and saying, ‘See, you’re getting into the OWAR spirit! I knew you would! Ah, Max, I take it back –weare the hot, handsome ones here, it seems, not poor Cerys.’

Max, meanwhile, sketches a sort of sat-down bow, head inclined low, and drawls, ‘Here to service your rebellions and mischief alike, fair lady.’

God, he issucha dork.

I settle for just rolling my eyes at him and pull my frizzy mass of hair back into a rough, looser ponytail.

I redirect the conversation with Jake to the almost-abandoned group chat with our old school friends, where there are half-hearted plans to organize a cinema trip. I assume everyone’s just busy with college these days and that’s why we don’t talk as much. The longer the silences stretch, the more awkward I am to reach out to any of them. It’s not as if they’ve reached out to me, either. Idomiss them, but I can’t tell how much of that is because I actually just miss the extra opportunities to hang out with Jake …

But he shrugs and says, ‘I’m not sure if I’m going to bother with the cinema, to be honest.’

‘What? Why not?’

‘I don’t know. I just don’t speak to anyone except you that much anymore …’

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