Page 89 of Sad Girl Hours
“Oh.” My heart lunges in either anxiety or excitement – I’m not sure which – at the thought of spending the whole night lying next to Nell. “Yes. I guess we could.”
“All right. Then that’s settled.” Nell throws herself down, shuffling her body on to the right-hand side of the bed, patting the left with her hand.
I lie down next to her, turning to face her just as she does the same, and I must admit that the fort is very cosy – especially with Nell’s smiling face just across from mine on the pillow, warmth flowing between us.
There’s quiet for a bit, Nell’s eyes flicking closed for a while and then back open, closed and then open, while I wonder if I’m brave enough to shift any part of my body closer to hers, to close the empty space that suddenly feels so wasted.
“Saffron?” Nell’s eyes are back open; her voice makes me start.
“Yes?”
“Are you having a nice time?”
I smile back across at her and say, completely earnestly, “The best.”
“Good.” Nell smiles back, satisfied.
Nell’s breathing gradually grows slower and steadier. I watch as the warm glow from the fairy lights slowly fades on and off, on and off her peaceful, sleeping face.
After I realise I’ve been watching her sleep for a while and grow uncomfortable with the Edward Cullen-esque implications, I pick up my phone to absently scroll until (hopefully) tiredness takes over and I can sleep. I open upInstagram to look at the photos we’ve both posted over the week. The rest of the gang have commented on them:
BEAUTIES, ily both xoxo(Jenna.)
enjoy the snow (while it lasts) x(Casper’s clearly in an existential climate-change-induced crisis.)
And simply:
big slay(Vivvie.)
I love them so much.
I keep mindlessly scrolling, still too wired to sleep, until I see something that makes me stop and scroll back up a little.
It’s a photo Melanie posted. I should have unfollowed her years ago, I know, but… Well, I didn’t. Her family have had a Christmas Eve party. She’s taken a selfie, lips pouting, but I’m not really looking at her. I’m looking at the background. Standing next to Mel’s parents, all of them holding wine glasses, aremyparents, clearly mid jovial conversation.
Our parents were never close really. They’d chat if they met, but they certainly weren’t Christmas Eve party close.
My parents know how Melanie treated me. Theysawit.
But they clearly don’t care.
Maybe that’s not fair. I guess if they’ve somehow got close to Petra and Steve then that’s fine; their relationship with them can be a separate thing.
But then why does it still feel like I’m drowning a little bit?
Chapter Forty-three
Nell
Predictably, Naomi comes barrelling into our room at six in the morning, screeching like an effusive town crier announcing that ‘IT’S CHRISTMAS!!!’
I open my eyes to tell her to lower her voice a couple of decibels but the first thing I see isn’t Naomi, it’s Saffron, lying next to me, eyes already open.
“Guys,” Naomi says, ripping through the blanket fort with such force she pulls one pinned-up sheet clean down. “Downstairs. NOW. It’s present time. Also, Ican’t believeyou made a fort without us.”
I’m about to say that 6 a.m. is not the time for anything besides sleeping, but my words would have zero impact falling upon excited ears. Plus, I’m excited too and definitely wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep again.Andit’s already too late because she’s left the room and started thundering her teeny-tiny feet downstairs.
I turn instead to Saffron, getting up and sliding my feet into my fluffy tartan slippers. “Merry Christmas, I guess!”
