Читать книгу The Roommates - Rachel Sargeant, Rachel Sargeant - Страница 15

The fragrance in the car is subtle but expensive. Half like its wearer – Tegan’s definitely on the pricey side but there’s nothing subtle about her silent disapproval. The more Amber sees of her, the more she resembles her sister, Jade. Not only her dark hair and freckles, but also her stance. Straight back, manicured nails on the steering wheel, hard eyes.

No doubt the last thing Tegan wants is Amber occupying her passenger seat, but Amber had no choice. Couldn’t walk another step after the shock she’s just had. It was only the trick of the light, but she had turned and fled, barged people out of her way, panic rising in her throat, stomach crippling in pain.

Why doesn’t she just tell Tegan a version of the truth instead of faking the stuff with her knee? She told Imo when they were drunk – sort of told her – so why not Tegan? Or Phoenix? She seems okay so far, better than expected. Not a deep thinker, into engineering and … Amber leans on the window as she scrolls her memory. What else does Phoenix do? Something sporty if her physique is anything to go by.

Amber bites the inside of her cheek. Maybe she should ask her flatmates questions and listen to the answers, instead of masking her secrets with babble. Instead of play-acting the part of an intellectual liberal so others will feel too intimidated to enquire about her background. A stupid role to pick as she only scraped into this university with a plea of extenuating circumstances. All lies. There were reasons for her poor A level results, but not the ones she gave.

Taking a deep breath, she continues with the disguise she’s been perfecting since she arrived. “Shall we go to the canteen?” she asks enthusiastically. “We can have a proper chat.”

“What, now?” Tegan glances at the clock on her dashboard.

“Early lunch. Please, I’d like to.”

Silence and Amber thinks she sounded too pleading. That’s always been her downfall. Begging gets you nowhere. On her knees, clinging, sobbing, screeching …

“If you’re paying,” Tegan says. She pulls into the kerb and reverses up a side road. They turn around and park in the loading bay behind the kitchens.

“Shouldn’t you …?” Amber starts, but changes her mind. She hates it when people run her life; she won’t tell Tegan where to park.

The canteen queue moves slowly. Students everywhere. Remembering who she thought she saw, her belly tugs, as if she’s being pummelled from the inside, and she keeps glancing over her shoulder. Suddenly she’s back there, in the moment. In the hours. Hurting. As a substitute for doubling over, she rubs her knee. Channels her ache into her leg. No one must see the truth. She straightens up, ignoring the funny look Tegan gives her.

As they wait, most people gaze at the TV monitors around the walls with Lady Gaga videos on repeat. Tegan uses the time to check her sales figures on her phone.

“It’s like Hogwarts.” Amber scans the busy dining hall. Tables the length of railway lines. “Where are we going to sit?”

“With Slytherin,” Tegan sneers.

After they’ve loaded their plates and poured a couple of coffees, Tegan leads the way to the clean end of a table beyond a group of older students gathered round a tablet. Postgrads probably.

Amber makes another attempt at conversation. “Are you going to the Freshers’ Fair? I’d like to join the drama club, if they have one, and maybe take up a new hobby of some kind. University is a chance for new beginnings.”

Tegan rolls her eyes. “Next you’ll be saying we’re on a journey.”

“Sorry.” Amber blushes into her salad and chips.

Tegan sighs. “I suppose I could look for a business enterprise group.”

Amber can’t think how to reply and feels uncomfortable again. Nothing in common with this girl. She shivers. Nothing in common with anyone. Her gullet heaves at the memory of what she did.

She puts down her fork and tells another lie. “I can’t eat this. I’m allergic to tomatoes. It’s the alpha solanine.”

Tegan rolls her eyes again. “Is alpha whatsit not present in upside-down pizza then?” She waits for Amber to look at her. “Remember the party in Flat 7? You tucked in good and proper.”

Amber hunches her shoulders and returns to picking tomato slices out of her salad. Found out again.

“By the way,” she says eventually, in another try at faking it. “I forgot to mention they’ve moved into the last room in our flat.”

“They?” Tegan asks. “Is it a couple?”

Amber shakes her head, puts on her persona. “One individual. I designate all humans as they; gender is a social construct.”

“Okay,” Tegan says slowly. “For those of us who are less enlightened, can you give me a clue which bits of they’s anatomy dangle?”

Amber struggles to keep a straight face. “The less enlightened would call them male.”

“A guy?” Tegan says, laughing.

“I think he, they, is from Thailand,” Amber says between chuckles.

Tegan’s laughter freezes. “Thailand?” Her knuckles whiten as she grips the edge of the table.

“They don’t speak English so I couldn’t find out their name. Don’t suppose you speak any Thai?”

“No.”

The force of the word silences Amber. The good-humoured conversation has evaporated as inexplicably as it materialized. She burns her mouth as she hurries to finish her drink.

“Thanks for the lift.” She stands up and heads out of the hall. Trying to befriend Tegan was a mistake. Imo is a better friend – and Lauren, the girl she bumped into on arrivals day. That’s a friendship Amber hopes to cultivate.