Chapters (75)
- Cover
- Praise
- About the Author
- Title Page
- Intoroduction
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EITHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- FIFTY-SIX
- FIFTY-SEVEN
- FIFTY-EIGHT
- FIFTY-NINE
- SIXTY
- SIXTY-ONE
- SIXTY-TWO
- SIXTY-THREE
- SIXTY-FOUR
- SIXTY-FIVE
- SIXTY-SIX
- SIXTY-SEVEN
- ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
- CLIMATE EMERGENCY
- Copyright
Back upstairs again, I can tell that Dana’s lost interest in working. She starts to flick her pen against my desk while I sit on the bed and talk about osmosis through a semi-permeable membrane.
‘What’s a perm-able what?’
‘Semi-permeable. It means it lets some things through. Really small things.’
‘I’m bored. Can we do something else?’
I lean over her to pluck a Chemistry textbook from the shelf over the desk, and she jabs a playful hand into my armpit. Three books tumble off the shelf, one hitting her on the head, another upending the dregs of cold tea.
‘Jesus, careful.’ She picks up her notes, shakes off the tea.
I step back towards the bed. ‘Sorry.’
‘I didn’t mean more work.’
‘So … what then?’
‘Just … talk and stuff.’
I sit down again. ‘About what?’
‘I don’t know. Stuff.’ She’s intently concentrating on the loosening end of tape that’s holding her biro together.
‘OK.’
The rain has stopped, but there’s a slow and steady drip from the gutter above my window. I count drips; one, two, three.
I get to twelve before she speaks.
‘Do you want me to go?’
‘No.’
‘God’s sake, Josh, why don’t you just—’
‘Why did you come here?’ The question surprises me as much as her.
‘I … I don’t know. I don’t really have many friends at school that I can drop in on.’
‘So the guy that your boyfriend beat up last week is an obvious first choice?’ I’m angry. I hadn’t realised.
It’s Dana’s turn to watch the window. The grey light catches in the small pools that are forming at the corners of her eyes.
‘I’m sorry,’ I say. ‘It’s not a problem.’
‘Yeah,’ she sniffs, wiping her eyes with a sleeve. ‘It is. I feel really bad about last weekend, and I guess I thought that if I came over then we could…’ There’s a long pause before she continues, and she wipes her eyes again. ‘I don’t know. I guess I thought you’d like me again like you did last week if I came over.’
‘You’re not the one who hit me. Why wouldn’t I like you?’
‘Because you don’t really know me.’
‘Maybe. But on Thursday…’
‘I’m sorry about what I said on Thursday. At the end. When you were going.’
‘It’s fine,’ I say. But again I’m not quite sure.
‘I’ve never shown anyone that place before. I guess I was scared I got it wrong. I think I showed you because, last week, it felt like you would understand it. That you’d like it. Because of what happened to your dad and everything and how you don’t seem…’
I wonder, in the pause that follows, about all the things I don’t seem.