Page 5

5. Violet :

(That Instagram life)

‘This pic is cute. You make a great fake couple, plus you look hot. Both of you.’

I spun around, almost garrotting myself on the cord for my curling irons in the process, to find Stella standing in my doorway, scrolling through her Instagram with a grin you could have seen from space. Or … you know … a significant distance.

‘Or as the French would say “ tu as l’air magnifique ”.’ Her fingers burst open against her lips.

‘Oh, shut up.’

‘What? I’m telling the truth,’ she shrugged, ‘and Charlie’s liked it. He wrote “best study partner” underneath. He put a little heart next to it. What’s not cute about that? I liked it too, by the way. Wanted to add some authenticity to it.’

I freed my hair from the grip of the iron before I singed it entirely. It was too hard to concentrate on curling my hair while my heart was flip flopping about at the thought of Charlie liking the Instagram I’d posted last night. Even though I’d told him he had to.

‘You’re being a menace.’

She let the door close with a bang, dropped her bag on the floor and flopped onto my bed – rather the pile of clothes hiding my bed. ‘I’m not. I promise.’

I knew better. ‘Hmm.’

She wriggled around, yanking a pale blue cardigan from underneath her hip, then tossed it over on the chair. ‘Vi, why does your room look like your wardrobe threw up in it?’

‘Couldn’t decide what to wear,’ I muttered, trying to keep my face as still as possible while I mastered the perfect flick of eyeliner.

‘Wear to what?’

‘I’ve got to go and meet Charlie after his tutorial, as the good fake girlfriend I am.’

And because he hadn’t ventured far from my thoughts since this entire escapade started, or the past five years, my phone buzzed on the dresser with his name flashing up.

Charlie:

Meet you by the fountain?

I put down the eye pencil and let the little buzz of nervous excitement work its way through my system. At least it gave me enough time to pause before I responded, so it didn’t look like I was hanging around waiting for him to message me.

I wasn’t doing that. Nope.

Violet:

Yes, I’ll be waiting.

I typed out an x then deleted it. Should a fake girlfriend put a kiss on their message? I typed another, then deleted it again before deciding against it entirely. Too soon for the x.

Hopefully he wasn’t watching the dot dot dots of indecisiveness.

Shit, I really needed to get a better hang of this. I was yet to decide if it helped that Charlie seemed way more nervous than me, although thinking about it he was probably just distracted by Evie.

‘Violet, what are you staring at?’

I glanced back up at the mirror, my gaze cutting to the reflection of Stella now tidying up the clothes explosion behind me.

‘Nothing, just replying to Charlie.’

She thumbed through a copy of Emma which she’d found under a pair of jeans, and tossed it onto my desk. ‘How are you feeling about it? Calmed your racing pulse yet?’

I sighed. ‘I think so. I dunno. It’s hard to tell.’

‘What d’you mean?’

‘When I’m with him, and it’s just us two, it’s like I’m a different person. I’m playing this role he wants, and it’s all good. I can forget he’s the guy I’ve fancied for years. But the second we part ways, and I’m alone, I panic all over again that I’m going to fuck up or he’ll somehow see right through me and have to let me down gently that we’re just friends. I don’t need the reminder.’

‘Hmm, quite the conundrum,’ she replied, without offering up any kind of solution. ‘Where do you have to meet him?’

‘At Radcliffe.’

‘Oh great!’ She placed a now folded t-shirt on top of another one. ‘That’s on the way, I’ll come too, I can assess how believable you are as a couple. And then it also doesn’t look like you’re trying too hard … you know, like you’re passing and thought you’d wait quickly.’

‘You’re right,’ I nodded, more from habit than anything, because she probably was.

I, on the other hand, hadn’t really thought about the granular details of the situation because my brain was too focused on seeing Charlie. Out of the two of us she was the one who was right more often than not.

It was how we rolled, and one reason we rarely argued despite the fact we were almost polar opposites.

‘And after we can swing by the theatre and see if they’ve made any early decisions.’

‘They won’t have. Cece said they’d let us know next week.’

Stella shrugged as she re-hung a cute, polka-dot mini skirt I’d immediately dismissed as not ‘Charlie girlfriend-wear’ back in the wardrobe. ‘No harm checking. Then we can go for lunch before my three hours of French conversation. Très bon . Or it would be if Tavener wasn’t in it too. Maybe I can have a glass of vin at lunch, that would make him less insufferable.’

‘Is he any good at French?’ I asked, running my fingers through my thick curls to make them more of a casual wave instead of the eighties bouffant I was currently sporting.

Based on Evie’s sleek, glossy hair I couldn’t see Charlie being with someone who looked like they’d stepped out of one of those retro shampoo ads.

‘Unfortunately, yes, annoyingly so. Probably why he took it, because he knew he’d ace it.’

‘You never know, he might put in a good word with Cecily, and you’ll get the part of Olivia.’

‘I’d rather get it on my own merit.’ She moved over to my dresser, twisting the lid off a pot of lip balm and swiping her finger through the top. She held it out to me. ‘Here, you better use this, get your lips all nice and kissable for your new fake boyfriend.’

Dropping onto the chair next to me, I waited until she’d stopped laughing like it was the funniest joke she’d ever told, but her throaty cackle was too infectious not to get caught up in it.

‘You’re an idiot,’ I grinned, snatching it from her and, against my better judgement, lightly coating my lips in the rose-scented balm.

After all, rule one did state kissing where appropriate. Perhaps there would be appropriate kissing today. Wishful thinking and all that.

I stood up and turned to Stella, waving my hand along the length of my body.

‘This okay?’

She sat forward, giving it proper consideration, and reached for my glasses which I’d left on the desk, tapping the end of one arm against her lip. Slowly, her eyes travelled up from the bottom of my high-waisted jeans to the pale-grey cable-knit jumper. I probably shouldn’t admit I’d been thinking about this ensemble since last night, including the freshly vibrant violet ends of my hair.

‘Hmm. What are you going for?’

‘I need to look like I haven’t really bothered trying to look good. But just look good anyway.’

‘And ’ow long ’as it taken you to achieve zis? ’ She peered over my face and the barely-there make-up I’d spent an hour trying to perfect.

‘Way too long, I don’t know how anyone has the time every day.’

She sighed softly, but smiled, ‘Vi, you don’t need to try. You always look good. I told you that you looked magnifique when I walked in.’

‘I know, but this isn’t about me. It’s about the part of Charlie’s girlfriend.’

‘Well, I say lucky Charlie you’re going to so much effort, but you still need to be yourself.’

I shook my head, ‘Uh-uh. Not a good idea.’

From now until the end of time, my alter-ego would be required whenever Charlie Masterson was present. It was the only way I could protect my heart, I’d decided.

‘Let’s get coffee on the way,’ I glanced quickly at the time on my phone screen, ‘if we leave now, we can treat ourselves to that cute place near the theatre.’

Stella put down the brush she was running through her hair, and pushed out of the chair. ‘Good idea.’

Carefully pulling on my cute navy beanie with the pink bobble so my waves weren’t crushed, I grabbed my thick bodywarmer, fanned my waves around my shoulders and followed Stella out.

‘We don’t have plans tonight, do we?’ she asked, jogging to the main door being held open for us by another St Anne’s first year.

‘Thanks,’ I called out, except she walked off before I reached the door.

‘Do we have plans tonight?’ Stella repeated, pulling a pair of aviators out of her backpack.

I squinted hard, cursing myself for forgetting my sunglasses. It might be nearly freezing, but it was one of those cloudless, crisp January days and the sun was blinding.

‘No, I don’t think so. Unless you want to learn lines again?’

She shook her head, ‘I think we should go out. We can get a couple of the girls together, Cecily will be up for it, she’s always keen for a party.’

‘Yeah, okay, I don’t have to be up early tomorrow.’

One good thing about my English course – 75 per cent of my classes were after ten a.m. It wasn’t why I’d picked it, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t check out the timetable when I was applying.

‘Excellent.’

Stella jumped into action and pulled her phone out to make arrangements. By the time we’d arrived at Rupert Pump’s Coffee Emporium and joined the queue, she’d organized five of our girlfriends into meeting for cocktails in her room first so she could break in the new cocktail shaker she’d been given for Christmas. I wasn’t surprised. In fact, Stella McAdams was one of the most organized and efficient people I knew; there was very little she couldn’t accomplish when she put her mind to it.

‘Cece’s not answering,’ she tutted. ‘I think I’ll go and find her while you go and meet Charlie. Do you mind?’

‘No, of course not.’ I shook my head, waiting until she’d slipped her phone back into her bag. ‘Are you having your usual?’

‘Extra shot coconut latte with chocolate foam? Yes please,’ she grinned, right as her eyes opened wide. ‘Hey, you know what? You should take Charlie one. That would be a girlfriend thing to do.’

‘You don’t think that’s too keen?’

‘Nope. It’s exactly the right amount of keenness. Especially if that ex of his sees. Shows you know his coffee order.’

I nodded, once again she was correct.

‘You know, between the two of us, we make a pretty decent whole girlfriend.’

She slung her arm over my shoulder and leaned in. ‘You mean whole fake girlfriend.’

The twinge in my chest flickered again. ‘What do you think he drinks?’

‘Probably something boring like black filter. What does your brother drink?’

I shrugged, ‘Dunno, but I saw him put butter in his coffee at Christmas, and I’m not ordering that.’

‘Butter?’ Stella’s face said exactly what I was thinking.

Disgusting. Or ‘A total waste of butter,’ as my mum told him.

‘Yeah, apparently helps with body fat or something. Boat Race training, I guess.’

We moved forward in the queue another foot, as three customers walked out carrying steaming cups.

‘Do you think they’ll win this year?’

‘I hope so. They’ve been training hard enough. It would be nice if the boys won for their final year. Shame we won’t get to see many of the races before though.’

‘Yeah, there’s no way Cece will let us out of rehearsals.’

The people in front of us turned around as Stella let out a loud snort, and I almost dreaded what was about to come out of her mouth given the mischievous look on her face.

‘Do you think Charlie will want you to be waiting with a warm towel by Chiswick Bridge?’

I shook my head, ‘No, don’t be silly. That’s two and a half months away, and term will have finished. We’ll be done by the Boat Race. This is a one-term thing.’

She forced her mouth down so it drooped at the edges. ‘Sorry to hear you guys are breaking up. I’ll make sure we go out and commiserate.’

‘Thanks,’ I grinned back, just as we reached the front of the queue and the impatient-looking server waiting for our order. ‘One flat white, please. And one …’ I pointed at Stella to give her order because I’d probably get it wrong and annoy this gentleman even more than he clearly already was.

I should have known she’d add a black filter coffee.

‘For Charlie,’ she winked.

Five minutes later we were making our way towards Radcliffe. All my concentration was going on not spilling coffee down myself, while also ignoring the nervous knots which were beginning to make their presence known the nearer we got, so I didn’t hear the booming of my name until it was close enough to deafen me.

‘VIOLET. Vi … Violet. VIOLET.’

Stella and I spun around to find my brother running towards me, completely oblivious to the scene he was causing. I was tall, but Hugo was Goliath, and several people stopped to move out of his way or watch him jog past.

‘My god! Is that the result of butter in his coffee? Or has he been eating little children too?’ mumbled Stella.

‘I dunno …’ I muttered to her, as Hugo stopped in front of us, looking more annoyed than I’d seen him in a while. Two girls walking past nearly collided with a lamppost because they were too busy craning their necks to look at him.

‘Hello, what are you doing over this side of town?’

‘What?’ he frowned. ‘What does that mean?’

‘Nothing, I’ve just never seen you around here before,’ I replied, with a shrug. ‘Shouldn’t you be in the gym or something? Wouldn’t want your muscles to shrink.’

Next to me, Stella snorted loudly enough that it earned her a deep scowl, but that was it. He knew better than to retort. Because Stella and I had grown up together, she had also been present for Hugo’s transformation from a gangly beanpole with a mop of curly hair once his obsession with the gym hit, before the even bigger obsession with rowing.

The summer we’d turned thirteen had coincided with another Marvel film being released in the cinema. Hugo had shot up three inches and expanded approximately four feet wide in a matter of months, and promptly decided that he could be the next superhero if he worked hard enough.

Since then, there’d been too many occasions to count when I’d caught him checking himself out in the mirror, therefore it was my job as a younger sister to keep his head a size which could fit through doorways. Stella was only too happy to lend a hand.

Shooting one last scowl in her direction, he focused on me, holding his phone so close to my face I needed to step back. ‘Care to explain this?’

‘Um …’ I blinked as my eyes focused on the screen and the Instagram picture of Charlie and me. ‘Which bit do you need explaining, exactly?’

‘All of it.’

‘Honestly, Huey, how did you get into Oxford?’ Stella drawled, pointing at the screen. ‘It’s clearly a picture of Charlie and Violet. See, this is Violet, your sister, and this is Charlie kissing Violet’s cheek.’

This time she earned herself a snarl.

‘Why is my best friend kissing you?’ he gritted out.

Taking another step back I crossed my arms. Or would have if I wasn’t holding two steaming cups of coffee. My scowl would have to do. ‘Are you serious?’

‘What?’

‘You were the one who gave him my number in the first place. If you didn’t want him kissing me, then you should have thought about that.’

‘Violet, what are you talking about?’

‘Helping Charlie with Evie,’ I replied, slowly, because he was clearly struggling today.

It took a second before realization dawned. Charlie was right, he’d forgotten. Hugo’s eyes widened as quickly as his mouth formed an oval. ‘Ohhhh. Evie. The fake girlfriend thing.’

‘Yeah.’

His gaze narrowed like he was still trying to wrap his head around the concept. ‘And this picture is part of that?’

‘Yes.’

‘So you’re not going around making out with my friends?’

I rolled my eyes, mostly because I refused to dignify that with a response but also because I didn’t have an answer. Not a black and white one anyway.

‘Is checking up on my dating life the only reason you’ve graced this side of the city?’

‘No,’ he scoffed, too quickly. Quickly enough that it made it clear my dating life was exactly why he was over this side. ‘Where are you two going anyway?’

My head tilted toward Stella. ‘We’re popping into the theatre to see if the roles have been put up.’

‘For your play?’

‘Yup.’ I nodded.

‘Okay, well, good luck with that.’ He glanced at Stella, then back down at the two cups in my hand. ‘Who’s the spare coffee for?’

‘It’s mine,’ answered Stella before I could. ‘I just really love a big coffee and these take-away cups are simply too small.’

My brother stood there, peering between the pair of us, like he was trying to figure us out. I wasn’t about to hold my breath; it had been eight years already and he still wasn’t any closer. I think we’d finally got to the point where he’d stopped questioning, and just simply thought we were eccentric.

I could live with being eccentric.

‘Okay,’ he replied finally, before adding, ‘call Mum. She asked me to tell you.’

‘She never answers when I call,’ I grumbled. ‘Only bloody you.’

‘That’s because I’m her favourite.’ He grinned, before his expression became serious again. ‘I mean it Violet, you better not be going around snogging my mates. They’re off-limits.’

‘Haven’t you got some weights to lift?’ I snapped back.

His eyes narrowed before he finally moved away. ‘See you around, weirdos.’

‘Technically, you’re not going around playing tonsil hockey with his mates. Plural,’ whispered Stella, leaning in, once he’d jogged far enough away to hear.

I rubbed away the tickle she’d caused on my ear. ‘No.’

‘Just the one.’

‘Yep. Looks that way.’