The wistfulness in his voice surprises me. He scrambles to the top of the little grassy hill surrounding the park. Spending time with him is just going to hurt, I know it is, and here I am just about offering myself up to it like a masochist. God, what am I doing? This is such a bad idea.
Like the past has a weight, a texture, and it’s all him. I find myself still wanting to feel his arms around me. I’ve popped a tyre before on the glass that’s scattered around here, and my fingers are too frozen to be fiddling around with fixing on a spare.Īs soon as we make it into the skatepark’s tiny car park, Kim hops off the bike. I take my time cycling down the rough track to the park. Maybe he needs to let off a bit of steam too. Wherever his life is at, ramming a four-by-four into a warehouse complex and then being arrested has got to build up some serious tension. The sharp-eyed way she watched him as he gave a false name to the police.
I think again of the girl with the green braids. It’s almost Christmas Day-surely, he’s got somewhere else to be, other people to be with? People far more important to him than me.
0 kommentar(er)
