Page 190 of I Can't Even Think Straight

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“I’m not jealous.” Matt laughs nervously.

I force myself into the present

and then beyond into the future.

“You can read something at the end of term,” I say.

“The Author’s helping us make our own anthology.

Everyone from the workshops

has to put in at least one piece.

The Author’s our editor and Jyoti’s his assistant.

It’s gonna be a proper book with an ISBN.

It’s gonna be cataloged in the British Library.”

“Swear down?!” Matt exclaims

in unexpected recognition.

“The big red building

between King’s Cross and Euston?

Statue of Isaac Newton out front?”

“I’m not sure,” I admit.

“I’ve not been there before.

Have you been there?”

“Yeah!” Matt beams at me.

“I went with my parents to an exhibition

about Malorie Blackman.”

I feel a pang of jealousy

that Matt did this without me.

That Matt went with his parents.

That Mum didn’t make time

to take me when I asked.

I don’t understand why Matt

hasn’t mentioned it until now.

Matt knows

I love Malorie’s books,

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