Page 157 of Vying Girls

Haz staggers back into the lounge, blinking her streaming eyes. ‘Fuck,’ she groans as she sits down next to me.

I snuggle up to her, the sight of her red, watery eyes tugging at me. I’ve never seen Haz cry, but I imagine it looks something like to this.

‘She’s trying to gas us out,’ she complains.

I put my arms around her. ‘Stay in here with me where it’s safe.’

With a complying grunt, she settles back, lifting two socked feet onto the coffee table.

We’re still sat like that fifteen minutes later when Nic stalks over with eyes even redder than Haz’s. She first slams a small spray bottle onto the table, then a plastic package.

‘It’s not the real deal,’ she says, gesturing to the bottle. It’s filled with red, speckled liquid. ‘But clearly it does the job. Take it wherever you go. And this’—she nods to the plastic package—‘keep it on you. Just attach it to your keys. It’s all just about legal.’

Then she heads upstairs without another word.

As Haz inspects the bottle, I pick up the plastic package, something colourful inside. Ripping it open, I pull out various keychains. Ones with very sharp things attached to them.

‘Pepper spray.’ Haz twirls the bottle. ‘Kind of genius, to be honest.’

‘Think this is a safety kit.’ I prod the rape alarm, torch, something that can be used for nothing other than stabbing.

Haz grunts, setting down the homemade pepper spray. ‘Someone feels bad. And so she fucking should.’

‘She’s making an effort.’

‘Gonna take more than some DIY weapons for that.’

‘That’s for me to decide.’

Because she can’t even begin to understand this warmth of hope in my heart, that I have to shift my feet to stop them fromrunning up the stairs and throwing my arms around Nic. She cares and she’s showing me in the ways she can manage. And, at least for now, it’s enough.

There’s a full moon outside, shining through the gap in the curtain and limning the bottle of pepper spray on my bedside table. My chest feels tight with jubilation when I think how she’d fretted in the kitchen for hours, dehydrating chillis she probably spent ages finding online, how she never stopped grinding them despite the discomfort it caused her eyes.

That urge to go to her is stronger now I’m alone and there’s nothing stopping me. I heard her soft footfalls above me not so long ago. She’s probably still awake, indulging in some bedtime reading, sat against her headboard, long legs tucked up to balance the book.

Would I be welcome?

That question is the only thing that stops me. I know she can’t be pushed. I know my enthusiasm will only serve to turn her off. She’s like a twitchy, stray animal evading capture, hissing whenever I’m within arm’s reach. There’s so much trust I’ve yet to earn, despite having done nothing to lose it.

At least, that’s what I’ve been telling myself. Maybe after enough times, I’ll come to believe it. But I will need Nic’s hand in that eventually.

When my body floods with adrenaline, I know I’ve made my mind up. Before I can put myself off, I yank back the covers and stand up. I take a moment to righten my pyjamas, to smooth down my hair. My mirror shows a dark, shadowy figure. I can just about see my eyes enough to run a finger beneath them,rubbing off any smudged eyeliner I can rarely be bothered to remove before bed.

With a breath, I open my door and step out. It’s quiet in the corridor, no light showing from Haz’s or Elly’s rooms. This feels like before, only I’m sneaking up to Nic instead of Elly. I don’t know why I don’t want them knowing. Haz has seen us kiss. Elly knows. It’s just, this thing with Nic, it’s so deeply private, so deeplyus.

I head up the stairs, palm to the wall as I keep my footfalls light. Nic’s door is shut, as is the one to her shower. But there’s light showing from her bedroom, a pale line of it lighting my toes.

I knock gently and push open the door, just a sliver so I can gauge her reaction. She eyes me steadily, the look on her face infuriatingly impassive.

I give it another second. When she doesn’t force me from her room, I slip inside, using my body weight to close the door until it clicks.

Her hands remain frozen on her book, her pose so similar to the one in my imagination it makes me smile. When I reach the bed, she slowly closes it. Heart pounding, I pull my knees up and shuffle over to her.

Maybe it’s the dark that allows me to straddle her without objection, to put one hand on her cheek, the other flat to the headboard. She’s less impassive now, alertness lighting her eyes as they flicker over me.

Her features blur the closer my face gets to hers. I feel her breath on my lips, her eyes trying to search mine, to decipher my intentions.

My lips touch hers, the subtle catch in her breathing enough to encourage me. Arching my body into hers, I deepen the kiss, inviting her to open her mouth with my tongue. I hear her bookhit the bedside table, then her hands are in my hair, tugging roughly, pulling me away, pulling me closer.