One Summer In Paris. Sarah Morgan

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СКАЧАТЬ from her glasses. “I wish you were going, too.”

      “No, you don’t. You’ll be hanging out with smart people, saying smart things and doing smart things. Now stop letting them get to you. Be mad, not scared. And if you can’t actually be mad, then act mad. You need to be meaner than they are. You need to be meaner-Meena.” She collapsed, laughing, and Meena giggled, too.

      “Meaner-Meena. I like that.”

      “Good. Because right now you’re far-too-nice-Meena. Let’s eat.”

      Meena followed her into the kitchen and sniffed. “Is that pizza?”

      “Mushroom and olive.”

      “Bliss. Well, apart from the olives, but I can pick those off.” Meena dumped her bags on the kitchen floor and stripped off her coat. Her long black hair was damp. She wore jeans and a black sweater that belonged to her sister. Audrey would have loved to have a sister to share clothes with, but mostly she would have loved to share the load of her mother.

      She watched as Meena sent a text.

      “Who are you texting?”

      Meena flushed. “My mum. She made me promise to let her know I arrived safely.”

      “You live, like, two streets away.”

      “I know. It’s embarrassing, but it’s either that or she drives me here and that’s more embarrassing.”

      Audrey felt a stab of envy. “It’s great that she cares so much. You have the best family.”

      “Aud—”

      “What?”

      “I smell burning.”

      “Shit.” Audrey sprinted across the kitchen and opened the oven. “It’s fine. A little burned maybe, but not totally charred. Can you grab plates?”

      Meena opened a cupboard. “Are you nervous about leaving home and living alone?”

      “No.” Audrey dumped the pizza on a board. She virtually lived alone now. No one cared what she did. She didn’t have a curfew or rules. She’d reached the point where she’d decided that genuinely living alone would be an improvement. “Are you?”

      “A bit, but it will be nice to have some independence. Mum is determined to make sure I eat healthily while I’m revising so every hour she brings me a healthy snack.”

      The mere thought of someone thinking to bring her a snack, let alone a healthy one, almost made Audrey bleed with envy.

      “And she’s on my case the whole time.” Meena unloaded her books and piled them on the table next to the plates. “We should get started. My uncle is coming at nine thirty to pick me up.”

      “I could walk home with you if you like.”

      “Then you’d have to walk back alone.”

      “So?” She walked everywhere alone. “What do you want to drink?”

      “Anything.” Meena walked to the fridge and opened it before Audrey could stop her. “What happened here? Why is your fridge empty?”

      “My mother was defrosting it. It was so full, it needed clearing out.” The lie came easily, as lies always did to Audrey.

       Yes, Miss Foster, everything is fine at home.

       My mother couldn’t make parents’ evening because she’s working.

      She could control the story she told. Less easy to control was the shame. It clung to her like sweat and she turned away, terrified it might be visible. “This pizza is getting cold. We should eat.”

      “You’re lucky. Your mum gives you so much freedom.”

      Audrey switched on her habitual smile. “Yeah, it’s great.”

      Why didn’t she just tell Meena and her other friends the truth? It was partly because having started this story it was hard to untangle it, but mostly because it was embarrassing to admit that your own mother thought a bottle of wine was more important than you were. What did that say about her? At the very least, that she was unlovable.

      “Have you decided what you’re going to do this summer?”

      “I’m going to Paris.” Audrey snapped the top off a can of soda. They had no food in the house, but they always had mixers. “I’m going to find a job and somewhere to live.”

      “That’s going to make Hayley sick with envy. You need to post photos that are cooler than hers. Have you seen her Instagram? Spending a month by the pool in Saint-Tropez this summer. #lovemylife.” Meena crunched her way through the overcooked pizza and licked her fingers.

      “Yeah. I’ve got my own hashtags. #yousmugbitch or maybe #hopethepoolturnsyourhairgreen or #hateyourguts. Trouble is, I can’t spell any of them.”

      “I’ll spell them for you if you promise you’ll post at least one smug photo of you in Paris. How are you going to communicate? You don’t speak French.”

      Audrey nibbled her pizza. “I can say I’m hungry, and I know the words for hot guy. The rest is going to have to be body language. That’s universal.”

      “Do you think you’ll have sex?” Meena pulled at another slice of pizza, catching the cheese that trailed in strands. “You’ve done it, right?”

      Audrey shrugged, not wanting to admit what a total letdown sex had been. She had no idea why so many books were written about love and passion. There was obviously something wrong with her. “It’s like going to the gym. You can get physical without having to engage the brain. Not that I exactly have a brain to engage.”

      “Stop it! You know that’s not true. So you’re saying sex is like being on the treadmill? What happened to romance? What about Romeo and Juliet?”

      “They died. Not romantic.” Audrey nibbled her pizza. “Also, that Juliet had no street smarts whatsoever.”

      “She was only thirteen.”

      “Well, I can tell you that even if she hadn’t drunk that poison, she never would have made it to old age.”

      Meena giggled. “You should write that in your exam. So do you want to revise?”

      “You don’t mind? It’s not like you exactly need to.”

      “I do need to. And I love being here with you. You always make me laugh. What do you want to start with? Physics? I know that’s really hard for you because of all the symbols. It’s hard for me, too, and I don’t have dyslexia. Whenever I open my book I’m just one atom away from a brain explosion.”

      Audrey knew that wasn’t true, but she was touched by her friend’s attempts to make her feel better. “I think I’m getting there, but ask me some questions and we’ll find out. Shall we have some music?” She finished her pizza and reached for her phone. “I СКАЧАТЬ