‘If I tell you that, will you get off my stuff?’ Anton asks, roughly tugging his hoodie out from underneath me.
Evie got pulled away on a shoot with Fenty, so she pushed our meeting back by a week. I nearly cried with relief when I heard; it’s hard meeting deadlines when you’re tied to a lead balloon.
I worked with Aiden on a fair number of occasions over our fourteen years at school together. I have not, however, worked with Aiden in a situation where my job and future are on the line. Turns out that comes with a whole lot more frustration and a week’s worth of headaches and stress screams to anyone who will listen. That includes Anton, who is enduring the latest one as he packs to go back to uni.
‘And everyoneloveshim. Gus and Pippa can’t stop sucking up to him when he’s there and gushing over how amazing he is every time that he leaves.’ I can hear the whine in my voice.
‘That tracks. I was only at Winterdown at the same time as you for a year, and Istillheard about him my whole time there. That man was a legend. But I don’t get why you still care. That was, like, fifty years ago for you now anyway.’
He ducks, effortlessly dodging the T-shirt I throw in retaliation. It flies past his shoulder and dips to the floor to land perfectly in a crumpled heap in his suitcase.
‘Thank you,’ he says, smirking as I scowl back at him. ‘Seriously, though. You’re obsessive, but you’re not “hold a decade-long grudge” obsessive. There’s no way this is still over beef you had at school.’
Flickers of memories slice through me, packed full of biting comments, fragmented eye rolls and frustrated sighs. Alone, each one would have been fine– forgettable, even, but they went on for years, spanned decades and haunted me for so long after. Perhaps things would have been different, perhaps I would have forgotten it all if not for the trauma of our last interaction. But that last time. . . I can’t. I feel my stomach curl into a tight, fixed knot.
‘It’s not about school,’ I say.
‘When have you seen him since? There’s no way you two run in the same circles. He’s too cool for that.’ Anton tuts.
‘Are you calling me uncool?’
‘Was there a world where you ever believed youwerecool?’ he says, deadpan.
I get him this time, triumphantly watching him flinch as a pair of jeans hit him square in the face. I’d like to chalk it up to my fantastic aim, but I know he let me have it.
‘D’you know he was responsible for my first taste of failure?’ I shift my focus to a far less traumatic interaction. ‘End of Year Three. Mrs May took me to the side and said “it was such a shame that I couldn’t change his behaviour” while sitting next to him.’ She may as well have slapped on handcuffs and sent me to prison. ‘I cried all evening. Mum and Dad didn’t know what to do.’
‘You know that’s pathetic, right?’ Anton asks.
I sigh, sinking further into his duvet. ‘I don’t think I can do this.’
‘We both know that’s not true,’ he scoffs. ‘You’ve never met a challenge that you can’t make the best of. It’s really annoying.’
I turn to look at him, sat unassumingly on his floor as he folds his clothes without a care in the world.
‘That was almost nice.’
He grunts as he zips up his case. ‘Don’t get used to it.’
But the words stick with me past the hug goodbye the next day and carry me all the way to my next session with Aiden. Ihavealways managed to make the best of a challenging situation and Aiden is just that– another challenge. When I enter the Abbingtorn building I am, above all else, a professional working individual. And I should be able to stay that way even around the likes of Aiden Edwards.
I let his little comments roll off me, his blank face fade into the wall and every little grating moment dissipate around me. That is, however, until Raina’s message hits the group chat.
HE DID IT!
The words are bold and bright underneath a picture of a dazzling diamond ring. It’s immediately followed by a slew of non-stopOMGsandFINALLYsfrom Devi and Kimi. I join in, of course, sending a garbled string of capitalised letters and liking their messages about planning the hen, but I can feel my face grow cold and the air draw sharply from my lungs. She’s engaged. Getting married. Married. At my age.
‘You look rough as hell,’ Aiden says. ‘You need to start taking your lunch break.’
‘I’m fine,’ I mutter, eyes still glued to my screen and that ring.
‘Cool, well, I’m gonna head off then.’
Not only did Raina’s news throw me for a loop, but it helped me finally succeed in forgetting Aiden’s existence. So much so that I didn’t notice him pack up his bag, ready to abandon me and our half-finished pitch deck.
I glance down at my watch. ‘It’s only four-thirty.’
‘And we never took a lunch break. I’m owed an hour. You should feel lucky I’m only taking thirty minutes.’
