Читать книгу White Lies - Zoe Markham - Страница 15

Chapter Four

With nothing left to unpack, I had no reason to hang around in the dorm. Except that with people now starting to show up and swarm around, I suddenly really didn’t want to do the whole New Girl thing. That first bit, where everyone stares at you like you’re a new exhibit at the zoo and no one’s worked out what category of animal you are just yet; where you have to smile so hard to prove to everyone you’re not a predator that your face burns; at the same time as not letting anyone think you’re prey either. That bit doesn’t get any easier no matter how many times you go through it.

I started to wish I’d gone back down with Tyler. At least then I would’ve had someone there, to maybe make the introductions and take the pressure off. And everything was different this time. I wouldn’t get to go home at three o’clock. I wouldn’t get to argue with Mum over breakfast, and make up over dinner. I wouldn’t be able to con Beth into doing my homework for me. I wouldn’t be able to go home until Christmas.

My self-pity alarm went off in my head. I needed something to take my mind off it, and fast. It never mattered what you thought about, so long as you just didn’t think about the thing that hurt. No way could I go down there with red-rimmed eyes – that would put me smack bang into the ‘prey’ category with a huge target painted right on my back.

In the end I settled on trying to think of everything I knew about magpies. It didn’t take long, but it was kind of random enough to derail the bad thoughts. Magpies were bad luck if you saw them on their own – that was why you had to ask about their wife, because if you acted like there were two of them it was fine. Although I had no idea why no one ever asked about husbands.

They were supposed to like shiny things. They were territorial, I thought, although I realised I was basing this purely on a YouTube video I’d once seen of a girl on a bike getting attacked by one. It was hilarious. There was something else, too, something right at the back of my mind that I couldn’t quite untangle. Something to do with blood, and the devil. Beth would know – she’d gone through a pretty heavy-duty Catholic phase once.

Beth! I hadn’t even messaged her since I’d arrived. She’d be worried about me.

I grabbed my phone. She was online, of course. She was always online.

-hey B! whats that thing with magpies & the devil? Can u remember?

There was a slight pause, and then, ‘Beth is typing…’

I let out a slow breath as the familiarity of contact started to work its magic and calm me down. Everything might have changed but some things would always stay the same – right? I couldn’t work out if that made any sense or not, but I liked the thought of it either way.

-Hello, Beth. How are you? I’m fine. I made it to my new school safely. I’m settling in OK. You can stop worrying now…

I laughed, and rolled my eyes.

-sorry!! hi! hows u? all good here. the magpie thing though?

-Seriously? Why aren’t you making friends instead of asking me crazy weird questions?

-cos theres a magpie outside and im trying to think of the blood thing, what was it, do u know??

-Yes, of course I know. I read, Abs. Actual books, not your dodgy Fifty Shades nonsense *bites lip*

-whatever! i only read them to see what the fuss was about!

-That’s what they all say, Sis.

-yeah well at least i didnt watch the film *points finger*. anyway are u gonna tell me or not??

-Only because they wouldn’t let you in. And it depends, are you going to start properly spelling and punctuating your messages?

-yeah when i get old and fussy and annoying like you :p now spill.

-OK, crazy girl. Magpies supposedly didn’t sing when Jesus was crucified. They were the only birds that didn’t. Even those big old crows that everyone thinks are so spooky sang. Or cawed. Or whatever it is they do. But not the magpies. Some people say they carry a drop of the devil’s blood on their tongues. They’re cursed birds, Abs. Laden with darkness.

I got chills as I read. Maybe the bird outside my window could rival a raven yet.

-If you believe in that kind of thing, that is.

I fired back a LOL, feeling better as I remembered how Beth’s level of belief had taken a nosedive when a certain hot young novice priest had moved on and an octogenarian with gastric ‘issues’ had taken his place at the chapel on the base.

-i think he lives in this tree outside my window, I told her. he needs a name.

-OK. Call him Malthus. Now go and make friends, or I’ll tell Mum.

-malthus??

-Google it, Doofus. Now Go Make Friends!

-i dont like it, its too lispy.

-You are seriously weird, you know that, Abigail Gray?

-oh yeah, grey!

-What are you on about now?

-the black and white thing, u mix them u get grey – ill call him Grey.

-Magpies actually have a bluish tinge to their feathers, and green tails. So that doesn’t work, Doofus.

-yeah well i like it, anyway cant chat on here all day, gotta go make friends :p

I logged out before she could snark back at me and get the last word. And I felt much better. Less lost. More like the kind of person people might want to hang out with, rather than just sort of stare at. My phone buzzed, and I looked down to see a text.

Let me know how it goes, and say hi to Malthus for me xx

I smiled. I’d give her a call later tonight. She’d want to hear about Tyler for sure – she had an epic weakness for blond surfer types.

I lay back and sighed. My bed was pretty comfortable, but something was digging into my thigh. I pulled the small, golden key from my pocket and turned it over in my fingers. Its smooth warmth made me feel safe – in control. It was like running my fingertips over the bracelet, except in that one moment the key felt more solid – more real. I closed my eyes. I’d just lie here for a few more minutes. Enjoy the calm before the storm.