Page 8 of Try Hard
My dad, apparently not quite catching the mood, nudged me. “I had to give everyone a copy. Most people got them last week, but, you know, doesn’t hurt to be carrying extras.”
“Thanks, Dad. If we get an influx of orders from it, I’ll know we have you to thank.”
“Oh, it’sHomemagazine. I don’t think the orders are going to be because of me.Homeis a huge deal.”
Fia glanced back up at me, still red. “It really is. And the spread is excellent.”
Pride burned and tickled inside of me as I thanked her. I knew the article was great. The team atHomehad been wonderful, and Row and I had worked hard preparing for it, but it still felt special hearing it from Fia, hearing that she liked it. From what I could remember, she’d never been overly syrupy with her praise, but, when she liked something, she meant it and she said it. If nothing else, I knew how much her praise had meant to Sophie back then. It had been praise that worked for Soph, focused on the things she wanted to do well. Fia wasn’t the kind of peer mentor that only praised you for turning things around and going to class and getting good grades. She got toknow Soph, praised her art constantly. I wondered if she knew the role she’d played in Soph’s entire future? Probably not. She’d been gone for a long time now, and, as far as I’d heard, hadn’t really kept in touch with people from Eddlesworth. Not that I could blame her. I’d only kept in touch with a couple of them myself. Most of the stuff I heard was from Soph having stayed local, and it wasn’t like Fia had a sibling to do that for her.
“Well,” I said, gesturing to the magazine Fia was still holding behind her back, “keep some space in your collection if you’re coming back here next week because I think you’ll be adding another article.”
Alistair lit up. He was a sweet man. “Do you have another piece coming out about you?”
“Oh, no.” I hesitated. “Well, yes, but not yet. No, next week is Sophie. Her studio got a writeup in an online tattoo space that’s kind of a big deal. Some of her work is going to be included.”
“I have been wondering if I can just print it out and hand copies to everyone,” Dad said, his face scrunched in consideration. “Or, I could get little business cards with QR codes on and have everyone link to it. Would that be better? More views for the website?”
I laughed. “It would do that, and I think QR business cards would mortify Soph. Do it.”
He laughed, but my gaze caught on Fia. She was watching Dad with a confused expression, and, god, if I didn’t want to ask a million questions on what that was about.
Chapter Three
Fia
The fact that I’d started the day worrying about whether my parents could see my piercings and thinking that was as bad as things could get was now, frankly, laughable. Because, it turned out, Eve Archer randomly attending the same plane watching morning I was and getting re-introduced to her while holding a giant magazine spread of her face was a million times worse. Made somehow even more embarrassing by the fact thatHomewas such a high-end magazine. More like a coffee table book than a magazine, honestly, with its glossy pages, and matte cover—not to mention its readership.Homewas a sign of just how much you’d made it. Unless, of course, you were holding it open at the woman’s face you were meeting and she was cheekily offering to sign it for you. Then, it was a sign of just how low you’d fallen.
I’d slipped the magazine into my bag at the first opportunity—wondering why I hadn’t done that earlier—but it felt like my hand was still burning from holding it.
Eve Archer was every bit as cool as she’d always been. And I was not. Although, in my defense, there wasn’t a great way to explain why you were still holding onto a picture of someone you’d been given over an hour ago without it coming off a little weird, regardless of how cool you had or hadn’t been in secondary school.
I pulled out my Thermos and took a sip of hot tea, grateful for how good the thing was at staying warm. Though, of course, my dad wasn’t new to this whole thing and there was no way he or my mum would tolerate him spending hours out in the cold without the correct gear.
The steam rose around me in tendrils, highlighting just how chilly the day still was. It had warmed up slightly from when we first arrived, but it still wasn’t anything to write home about. Though, of course, I routinely wrote about locations colder, warmer, and the same temperature as Gatwick Airport, so perhaps I needed a new saying.
I jumped when Eve appeared at my side. I’d been trying to keep track of her without actually keeping track of her—just being aware of where she went so I wouldn’t embarrass myself again, without being… obsessive.
Of course, she’d immediately started chatting to everyone, making the rounds, becoming friends with them all. I’d spoken with them too, but there was something different in the way Eve did it. People just adored her, took to her, andwantedto talk to her. Sure, people asked about my trips and the planes I’d been on, but it wasn’t quite the same as meeting an actual sporting hero.
“Sorry,” she said with an apologetic grin. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
I shook my head. “You’re good. My fault for not paying attention.”
“I mean, I can hardly blame you. The second you took out a hot drink, that’s where all my attention went too.”
I looked at her. She was bundled up, but her complexion was a little pale. “You didn’t bring a Thermos?”
“I know, rookie mistake.”
Was I really going to offer Eve Archer my drink? Who was I kidding, of course I was.
I held the flask out to her. “If you’re not too fussy about sharing, you can have this.”
She laughed. “Fia Pendrick, how chivalrous.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’ll take the offer back.”
“No, no, don’t do that,” she said, fumbling to take it from me and immediately taking a large swig.
