Page 155 of Vying Girls

‘We’ll get you sorted,’ I tell her, relieved when she allows the comfort. ‘You’ll be okay soon.’

A short two hours later, after a speedy helicopter ride and the quickest run through A&E I’ve ever experienced, I sit at Nic’s bedside whilst she readjusts her clothing after her various tests.

No heart attack. Just something close to one and a large dose of panic.

THANK FUCKhad been Skylar’s reply when I texted her the news from Nic’s charging phone. I threw it down, too angry with her part in tonight’s drama.

Nic sits back with a sigh, not happy with having to wait for discharge like we were told to. With her eyes closed, I study her face, her hair a little flatter than usual, her thin lips a light pink against her pale, sweat-dried face. She smells of sickly-sweet alcohol and smoke.

Reaching out, I cup her cheek. She’s been letting me do stuff like this. Each time I hold my breath waiting for a rebuff, a soft sort of thrill filling me when one never comes.

I stroke her cheekbone with my thumb, her vulnerability making me remember her as a kid. We’d never dealt with true danger such as this, but there’d been plenty of times I had to offer her comfort. Like when the neighbourhood kids ragged on her, or when her dad expressed frustration, something that always cut her to the bone.

I feel the same protective anger I had then. This time it’s directed at Skylar. A tiny bit at Nic herself. It’s not as though Skylar held her down and made her snort the stuff. Mostly, I just feel strangely privileged to be here.

‘I’m thinking I might just give Damien the money,’ she announces, her skin shifting under my hand. ‘It’s the safest thing for you.’

‘I hate that.’ That means the fucker wins, that Nic has to once again bow down to someone who should, if there was such a thing as justice in this world, be behind bars. Or, more preferably, fucking dead.

‘Yeah, me too.’

‘He’ll just keep asking for more. If he knows you’re easy, he’ll just keep on.’

Nic sighs, rubbing her face and dislodging my hand. ‘Nothing about this is easy.’

‘Well, maybe don’t think about it right now. Just concentrate on yourself. Hey. I know something that’ll distract you.’ As soon as her eyes settle on mine, I pitch forward and press our lips together, feeling the meagre kiss all the way down to my toes. ‘See. You’re smiling.’

‘Involuntary reaction.’

‘You called me,’ I point out. ‘Tonight, I mean. You asked for me.’

Nic blinks, as if she can’t quite remember doing that. ‘Couldn’t call the others. They’d behead me. Especially after today. Or yesterday now, I guess.’

‘You could have just gone with Skylar.’

She’s quiet for a long time, like she has no other defence. ‘I was just high.’

‘I’ve seen you higher.’

‘Tilda.’ She drops her head back. ‘What do you want me to say here?’

‘Just admit you care. It won’t kill you, Nic. Promise. It might even be nice.’

‘You deserve more than whatever version ofcareI can offer you.’

I roll my eyes. ‘Alright, mardy pants. No need to get all maudlin. Let me decide that for myself, please. Anyway, you said yourself you’re sick of hurting me.’

Nic hums, not quite convinced.

‘This isn’t ideal with Varsity coming up,’ she says, easily changing the subject.

‘Um. Nic…I’m not sure Varsity is the best idea, honestly. They said to rest your heart. I’m assuming that means no vigorous exercise.’

Nic turns her head to me, her expression harder than it’s been all night. ‘You’re not telling Coach.’

‘I might have to if you don’t.’

‘Tilda.’ She turns to me on the bed, capturing me in her steely gaze. ‘Fucking promise me you won’t tell Coach.Just for this—just do this for me.’ Taking my hand, she squeezes it tightly.‘Please.’