It’s weird seeing it again

after everything that happened.

Like looking at a fairytale picture of how things

should be.

But instead here I am.

Drenched to the core.

‘Did you paint this? And the kraken and the mermaid, too?’

‘Once upon a time I did, yeah.’

‘They’re beautiful. Really – they are.’

I kick a paintbrush.

‘Thanks, but that’s not really me any more.

I painted them for –’

I stop.

What am I doing?

Spilling my guts to some girl

I don’t even know.

I clear my throat.

‘What’s your deal, anyway?

How come you’re logging into my dumb life?’

My thoughts seem to tumble. And on my lips are lies and lies and lies.

‘Oh, I’m helping my mum out,’ I say quickly. ‘She’s the one who gave you this phone – she works at the school.’

So Alice is careers lady’s daughter.

‘Sent you to spy on me, did she?

You gonna tell her I’m bunking off today?’

‘No! It’s not like that. I’m just –’

I look round my room for inspiration. At the beige walls and Manta staring out from his little tank.

‘I’m just at home. Home-schooled. This is … this is a project. For us both, I suppose.’

I scratch my neck.

‘Yeah, well, there’s probably better partners.

My life ain’t exactly anything special.’

I look at the whales he brought to life on the wall.

‘I don’t know about that.’

Wesley was right. Anyone who could paint this must be special. And Rowan – he has no idea just how special he already is.

‘You should keep painting.’

I look again at the whales.

At the smallest one at the bottom.

‘It’s not important,’ I say.

‘Not any more.’

These days

I’ve got bigger fish to fry.

20

Alice

I’m lost in fog.

After I said goodbye to Rowan, I spent hours thinking about the lie I told him, about this being a project.

The truth is that I used to be home-schooled. Mum and Dad even brought in a tutor for me, who would sit with me at the kitchen table as I struggled to pin numbers under my pen to stop them from wriggling off the page. But it got to the point where every session would take away spoons for days afterwards, until it felt like I was always breathlessly struggling to catch up.

I should be taking my exams this summer. But even just looking through the first page of the biology mock exam I keep on my bedside table is enough to make the brain fog descend.

Studying = 5 spoons

It hardly seems fair that I could drop spoons just by using my brain, but the Illness takes them all the same.