Page 79 of Exchange of Heart

‘Who the hell do you think you are, you brown-nosing little shit. It’s none of your business what anyone in this class does. Especially me.’ I turned and stormed out the door, every eye in the class darting between me, Latham, and Corey.

Corey passed me, chin high, arm drawn back. I swung myself around and grabbed hold of his raised arm.

‘He’s not worth it,’ I said.

Dropping his arm, he laced his fingers with mine and marched his legs away from the rude bastard.

Nervous laughter bubbled from my mouth once we started driving. ‘Can you imagine that?’

‘Imagine what?’ Corey’s forehead creased.

‘Us. Together.’

He forced out an awkward laugh that made my eyebrows raise. ‘Yeah, just imagine.’

An uncomfortable silence followed.

‘You’d have to have my babies. How do you feel about childbirth?’ I tried to break the tension.

I was treated to one of his rare sheepish half-grins as he squeezed his legs. ‘I’m not even going to imagine that.’

‘Well, that’s okay. It’s not like we’re together, anyway.’

My gaze darted from his to the window, neither of us speaking again until we’d made it to the carpark. He almost looked… wishful.

Corey grabbed the last slice of pizza and I took the box to the kitchen. I tossed the receipt into the garbage and noticed the logo of a prestigious art school on a scrunched piece of paper. Corey leaned closer to the TV and yelled at a man running with a football, so I plucked the paper out for a better look. My gaze darted between Corey and the letter, desperate to shake it in his face. He’d been accepted into the most exclusive art school in the state, yet the crumpled letter sat amongst banana peels and bread crusts.

Just as I thought I had him all figured out, a new discovery like this wrapped around my mind and prodded the confused grooves.

‘Go, go, go!’ Corey jumped from the couch.

I wouldn’t bother him with it tonight. Not when the game was distracting him from our catastrophic life.

But tomorrow? I wouldn’t let Corey throw his life away. Not when it’s obvious he’s got his own dreams to live.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Corey

Whoever was at my door wasn’t going away, because the light raps continued for almost two minutes. Nora left for a walk to digest her pizza only five minutes ago, though I’m pretty sure she only wanted to release a mountain of farts. She’d been squeezing her legs and adjusting her position on the couch all evening. Besides, she had a key, so it couldn’t be her.

‘Corey, honey? It’s me, open the door.’

My heart raced at the comfort of Mum’s voice floating under the crack of the door. My feet were on autopilot, and my hand gripped the brass handle and yanked the door open without a second thought.

‘Mum, what are you…’ my voice trailed off.

Her eyes were wide, and there would have been creases on her forehead if her tri-monthly appointment didn’t keep them away.

‘I’m so sorry, I thought you were Corey.’ Her gaze paused on the green hat she’d given me for my seventeenth birthday.

Of course, I wasn’t me. I adjusted my drooping shoulders and smiled, wondering if it would look strange to remove my hat now.

‘Mrs Flemmington, hello. Corey popped out for a few things. Would you like to come in?’

I realised what a terrible suggestion this was, too late. Did I really expect Nora to arrive home and play her doting son? Mum entered the threshold as though her steps might activate an alarm system, her eyes glued to me the entire time. She wandered to the kitchen, placed her bag on the counter, and picked up my book How To Cheer Up Your Hormones. Her forehead almost creased as she placed it back down and turned to the living room filled with evidence of our shitshow life. She picked up the bra I’d flung over the back of the couch this afternoon with raised eyebrows before gently placing it down like fragile china. Next, she admired the new painting of a kitten in a saucer Nora hung by the dining table to ‘bring more cheer’ to the place. The aqua cushions on the couch, the black cat that stalked to my mother and wrapped itself around her legs.

‘Can I get you a tea?’ I offered.