Page 2 of How To Tackle A Crush
“Right,” he says into the phone. “Keep me updated on… developments.”
He drops into his chair and spots me.
His face lights up like I am unexpectedly good news.
“Ava!”
“AJ.”
“You live.”
“I was not aware my survival was in question.”
He points at me. “See. That. That is why you’re my favourite friend.”
“I am your only friend currently visible,” I correct instead.
AJ grins. “Fair.”
I glance around again. “Why is everyone missing?”
He leans back in his chair with the air of someone about to deliver breaking news from a war zone.
“The picnic.”
I wait.
He waits back, clearly convinced that explains everything.
“The company picnic,” he adds.
“And?”
“And half the newsroom is currently fighting for their lives in various bathrooms across Carlisle.”
I stare at him.
“That feels like an exaggeration.”
“It is not an exaggeration. It is a tragedy. I have just spent ten minutes on the phone with Ben from sport and he described things I will never mentally recover from.”
“I did not need to hear that.”
“No one needed to hear that, Ava, and yet here we are.”
I look again at the empty desks. “What happened?”
“Food poisoning. Suspected chicken. Possibly potato salad. There is an ongoing investigation.”
“I am not sure food hygiene counts as investigative journalism.”
“Today it absolutely does.”
He swivels his screen towards me. The newsroom group chat is scrolling at an alarming pace.
Does anyone have Gavin’s number?
I can no longer use the downstairs loo.
