Page 40 of Vying Girls

Elly kisses my ear, whispering into it with a smile, ‘I’d say so, yeah.’

CHAPTER 7

Tilda

Only reason I signed up for this damn thing was the off chance that Nic might attend. I stand nervously in camo and a mask, fiddling with the paintball gun as the instructor rattles off safety instructions.

I look around the sea of green and brown bodies. There’re some taller forms—the hockey boys—but I know none of them are Nic. I don’t even need to see her face to know she’s around. It’s a feeling, like entering a haunted house and justknowing.

I kick the ground with my boot. Fuck’s sake. Now I’m stuck doing this for an hour. Anyone shoots me and I’ll probably cry.

The instructor shouts and everyone falls out, running behind towers of tractor wheels and corrugated shields. My heartthumps as I make for a row of orange barrels.Please don’t shoot, please don’t shoot.

Why did I think Nic might enjoy this? I shake my head as I listen to the boys shout orders like we’re truly entering battle.

Desperation, I suppose. And anger. Because that’s been brewing, the more she ignores my messages, the more she ignores me.

Reminds me of when she was a kid and we used to fall out. She’d never tell me what I did, just sulk and glare until one of our parents called an intervention and forced me to apologise.

She’s not changed much, clearly. And there’s no one to intervene for us now so I’m resorting to shit like this. Tried her tent but she’s moved it. I’ve become consumed with the thought of seeing her. Every time I spot some lanky form, my heart thuds thinking it’s Nic. Next hockey practice can’t come quick enough. I can be sure she won’t avoid that at least.

Someone on the other team prowls towards me. I leg it over to a wall of logs, grunting when a sharp pain erupts on my thigh.Fucker.

I straighten up, hands in the air, and leave the arena.

There’s still so many out there. Think I was the first to be eliminated. Embarrassing. I loiter in the trees, wondering how I can sneak home before round two starts.

Hazelhurst is perfect for something like this. It’s a stunning day, sunlight dappling the arena, all the spring birds twittering their little tail feathers off. Everything smells fresh and mulchy.

I sit down on an overturned tree, flitting my gaze between all the anonymous bodies. Suppose not everything has to be your thing. Think I’ll stick to hockey where I can see everyone’s faces and there’s always a stick between me and my enemies.

I flinch when someone plonks down beside me, their red armband showing they’re from the opposing team.

‘Calm down, PTSD. Sheesh, never enlist, will you.’

‘You’re out too, Tommy, so don’t take the piss.’

I kick my legs out to get more comfortable. If Tommy’s here, I might stick around. At least that’s one person I know. Not sure who else is out there.

‘Probably gonna be a while,’ he comments.

‘Fine with me. Where did you get hit? I’m gonna have a bruise from hell.’

He lifts his arm, showing me the blue splodge.

‘Ah, well. At least they didn’t get my tit.’

He snorts, fiddling with his mask. Not sure we’re supposed to take them off but the thing’s stifling.

Only Tommy’s hair shows above it. Guess Nic didn’t inherit the curly gene, wherever that came from. She looked like her dad mostly, particularly with her height.

As tall as doorways; I remember him standing in mine many a night. Could never tell if it was a dream or not back then. I know the difference now, the pervy fuck. A shudder runs through me. This whole thing with Nic is making me remember the worst moments, not just the good.

‘Tommy?’

‘Hm?’

I heft the gun in my hands, needing something to fiddle with. ‘Shit’s gone down with me and Nic recently.’