Page 174 of Vying Girls
I raise my eyebrows. ‘You weren’t sure about that?’
Tilda rolls her eyes. ‘You know what I mean. Up until now…’
‘Yeah. I know.’ I open my mouth, wanting to say more, but close it again when I hear Taylor shrieking in the house. This isn’t the place for this.
Tilda smiles gently, seeming to understand. It makes something flare inside me because God knows I don’t deserve it.
She takes hold of my fingers and squeezes. ‘Chat for another day, yeah?’
‘Yeah.’ I step away, sliding my hands into my pockets. ‘Gotta go. Train is soon.’
‘Okay. See you soon then. And thanks again, you literal hero.’
I leave her standing on the doorstep, one of those giddy, trembling smiles on her lips. There’s no smile on mine butmy whole body feels shaky, like I can run all the way back to Hazelhurst without breaking a sweat.
By the time I reach the train station, it’s dampened a bit. I know a kiss means nothing, not even a start of making things up to her.
I’m still not sure there’s anything I can do for that.
CHAPTER 30
Tilda
I am on fire.
Not literal fire, unlike the two that’ve already been put out by volunteers, and started by who knows who.
Definitelysomeone from Hazelhurst. We’re not above a little home destruction.
The hockey pitch under my feet is writhing with girls and sticks, the sound of laboured breathing and skidding shoes and the clack of the ball on wood drowning out the frantic beat of my heart.
The whistle’s imminent; my ears are pricked for it. The final match of the competition, the deciding game.
And we’re fucking smashing it.
I scoop the ball, my body low and blocking, the sight of the goal sending a current through me. We’ve got seconds left, but fuck it, why not get another in?
Because I could do this forever, riding this high, responding to the shouts of the crowd surrounding us on all sides.
It’s a new pitch, this one, opened in time for Varsity, the blue turf like the ocean around us, gleaming white seats tiered and teeming with students from both Hazelhurst and the mainland uni. It’s only right it sees us to victory for its first year.
For a moment, at the beginning of the match as we settled in our positions, there was a dip when I didn’t see Nic’s lanky form, gripping her stick with that competitive intensity in her eyes. Then I got myself together, because she was out there somewhere, watching, needing me to win this for her.
And win for her I will, for a myriad of reasons, but none more so than what she did for Elly.
They agreed in the end. Her nan especially wasn’t above denting her pride for the sake of Elly’s education. There will be a period of mourning and then Angelica will start, easing the burden as paid for by Nic’s inheritance.
Every time I think about it, I want to squeeze her.
Kiss her.
All these things we haven’t done since I’ve been away at Elly’s.
Which isn’t long, considering. Two weeks. Two weeks watching that man die, feeling so proud of Elly and her family for staying strong and upbeat and together.
The final day was one I never want to relive, the guilt of no one being with him as he slipped away quietly in the night. Wrecking Elly who was getting together a bag so she could start sleeping at his bedside on a night. He’d had a good day that day. Maybe that should have clued us in—the high before the low.
Knowing Elly, the guilt of that will stick with her forever.
