Page 136 of Vying Girls
I scoff, pulling my legs to my chest. The sofa is so saggy I feel like I’m the size of a five-year-old.
‘Don’t be scoffing at me, darling. Don’t you be scoffing at me.’
I rest my cheek on my knees, head turned away from him. This fucking day. I want to crawl into a hole and sleep until it’s over. Or Haz’s bed, letting her darkness soothe my own. Tears prick my eyes again at just how desperately I want her.
Just something else to feel guilty about. They’d be blowing up my phone if I hadn’t turned it off.
I tense when I feel Callum slide in next to me.
‘Sorta strange you’re here actually.’
‘Mm?’ I unfold my legs to the floor, ready to run if I have to.
‘Yeah, was in the pub last night and met a friend of yours. Some blokey named Damien.’
I snap my head to Callum, adrenaline hitting so quickly I feel dizzy.
‘Boyfriend, is he? Bit old for you, ain’t he?’
‘No, he’s not my boyfriend.Fuck.’
I stand up, rooting in my bag for my phone and turning it on.
‘An ex? How old are you now, anyway? Hit twenty yet?’
I jiggle the phone in my hands, willing it to boot up.
‘Til-da,’Callum sings. ‘I asked you a question.’
‘Yeah, I’m twenty. What did he say? Damien. What did he want?’
‘Nothing. A chat. He asked about me, your mum, you. Alright guy. Bought a couple rounds. Played some pool.’
It takes an eternity for the Wi-Fi to connect. Then my phone floods with messages. From Haz, from Elly. Nothing from Nic.
I shoot off a harried message to her before sitting back down. ‘Did he say why he was there?’
‘Why’d you think? For a pint.’
Sure. In a city he has no business being in. How the hell does he know where I live anyway?
Fuck. Shit.
I glance at the window, convinced I’ll see him. He must know my address. Mum’s address. What if he comes here next?
‘In trouble with your old man?’ Callum’s voice is thick with malicious intrigue.
‘He’s not my fucking boyfriend!’
There’s an edge of panic to my voice as I bring up Nic’s number and press call. How awful this feeling is. Vulnerable. Like a tracked animal. Stuck between this girlfriend beater and a psychotic stalker.
The call connects just as Callum whips my phone out of my hands and throws it at the nearest wall. ‘Don’t know who the fuck you think you’re talking to.’
‘Callum—’ I make to pick it up, but he shoves me back.
‘Rude fucking tart. No manners on you. Heard you’ve been giving your mum the runaround.’
I glance at my phone, hearing Nic’s tinny voice on the other end of it. My heart races, fear of Damien melding into this more immediate threat.
