‘It just means I’m always the one looking after you, not viceversa.’ I need her to acknowledge it. I need her to know. What’s the point of worrying about someone, looking after them, making all these sacrifices, if they don’t even realise, if they don’t even give it a second thought? God, is this how parents feel every day of their lives? But I’m not a parent.

Now Lauren rolls back over to face me.

‘You think I’ve never looked out for you?’

‘I think our roles in the family are you, the wild reckless fun one, and me, the boring, responsible protector.’

Lauren snorts.

‘Do you remember, in primary school, when Luke Taylor stayed after school and hid in the bushes and threw water bombs filled with his piss at you?’

‘No. That never happened.’

‘Exactly. Because I heard about what he and his friends were planning and I scared the shit out of him.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes. And do you remember how you were never bullied on the bus to and from school? You got to sit there and read your book and talk to your friends and not be harassed by fucking Josh Kelly and his mates, who would go up and down the aisle making other kids give them food.’

‘That was you?’ All this time, I had imagined I was invisible, that I was safe because I read books and worked hard at school and did the right thing and was responsible and the universe was rewarding me.

‘On your first day, I told Josh if he ever so much as spoke to you, I would ruin his life. He was a creep who harassed the younger girls.’

‘He was a creep. I had no idea you did that.’ I wish she had told me.

‘Well now you know.’

She rolls back over.

‘I worry about you, Brooke. I do. It’s just different from the ways you worry about me. I wanted to make sure no one bullied you, I wanted to make sure your life was easier when I could make it easier, that no one preyed on you like they did on me.’

I look at her back, and listen to her breathe.

‘Thank you,’ I say.

‘You expect so much of people, sometimes you can’t see the good parts because you’re dwelling on the ways they don’t live up to who you want them to be.’

‘I don’t…I mean. Yeah. I guess I’m too judgmental.’

‘Of me, for sure.’

‘You make it hard sometimes.’

‘I know.’

‘I worry about the way you drink.’ I’ve never said this out loud before, but it’s not a surprise, of course—it’s there in the subtext of our entire relationship.

‘I’m fine.’

‘Not always, though.’

‘No. Not always. But you can’t live your life being careful about every single thing and taking no risks.’