Page 62 of The Home Grown
“Betts, are you sure you’re okay?” Danny says.
I gulp in a lungful of air.
“If I tell you something—you’ve got to promise me you won’t tell another soul. Yeah?” I say.
“Okay. You’re freaking me out. What’s going on?” Danny asks, narrowing his eyes.
“I—I’ve fucked up. Big time.”
He frowns. “It can’t be that bad, can it?”
I swallow hard before telling Danny everything.
ELLIE
“Hey, Kitch. Have you missed me?”
Mike Betts’ sing-song voice vibrates through my car speakers, causing me to gasp in panic.
Does he know? Does he somehow know about my online antics?
I decide the best thing I can do is remain passive—act like everything is how it was before he spent the night in my bed. Although I was hoping to get the chance to call him out for changing Rick’s name to ‘Prick’in my phone contacts, I decide against it.
“What do you want?” I ask, trying to keep my tone level.
“I’m great, thanks, I appreciate you asking—listen, don’t suppose you’ve got my wallet, have you? I’m hoping it’s in your car or something. The trousers I had on last weekend were crap and?—”
“How has it taken you this long to notice you haven’t had your wallet?” I ask.
“I didn’t need it—I use my phone to pay for stuff, but I remembered I had a winning scratch card tucked in my wallet and… I guess I’m feeling lucky. I want to cash it in and get a fresh one.”
“I’ll have to check,” I say. “I’m driving at the moment.”
“Oh, cool—been anywhere nice?”
I pause, tempted to open up about my social life—but I stop myself. I’m not sure where we stand, and I don’t want to assume we’re friends just because we’ve had one weird night and a few decent conversations.
“Not really,” I say. “But I’ll look for your wallet when I stop.”
“Cheers. If you find it, could you text me and let me know? I can swing around and pick it up.”
We hang up and I make it back to my place, climbing out of my car and crouching down to survey the footwell and the underside of the driver’s seat. And alas, Mike’s wallet has indeed wedged itself underneath. How I never noticed it before is beyond me.
I pull up his number from my last called list and drop him a text.
Ellie
Got your wallet.
He replies instantly.
Mike
Great, thanks. Shall I come get it?
I consider it for a moment before deciding it’s not a good idea to have Mike over again, purely because I still have around half a bottle of Macallen left and after last time…
I tap out a reply.
