Part 20 (2/2)

But there's a horrible little part of me that thinks I do get to own her, because Kaz is mine. Isn't the point of being someone's best mate the fact that you're the one who brings out the best in them? It's not a t.i.tle given to you because you're the person they prefer to everyone else, the way little kids say that purple is their best or Marmite or their bike. It's about how you make them feel their best.

That's what Kaz does for me, anyway.

”You look aces,” I say as I approach, nudging Kaz with my boot since my feet are the only part of me capable of expressing affection. It seems to work Kaz is beaming up at me like we never even fell out.

”So does your left arm.” Kaz's reflex response to a compliment is to pay it back straightaway, but she lightly runs her fingers over her head and adds, ”The hair was Lauren's idea.”

Of course it was. Lauren's saying something, but I'm thinking of all the times I've said how awesome Kaz would look with her hair back and how sad I am that she can't remember a single one of them.

”Good work, Lauren.” And because I can't think of a meaningful way to say something nice, I follow this up with, ”You should go pro.”

At which she snort-laughs. ”Yeah. Thanks.”

Seriously. And I'm the one being a d.i.c.k?

”Your 'tattoo'” her use of air quotes makes me want to snap her fingers ”is, er, nice?”

The way her voice rises is not a compliment.

”Yes. It is nice. Not what I'd have inked for ever, but it's not bad.”

”You'd seriously get a tattoo?”

Kaz is completely oblivious to the fact that Lauren's words were dipped in disapproval and rolled around in a bed of contempt when she explains, ”Ruby's going to be a tattoo artist.”

”'Artist',” Lauren says, using air quotes again. I regret not snapping her fingers the first time.

”Yes, an artist, as in body art,” I say.

”OK...” She eyeb.a.l.l.s me. ”If that's what you want to call it.”

Kaz is looking uncomfortable. She's been caught up in these conversations with me before, with my art teacher, with Callum, with my parents with Tom. I guess it's not surprising that his bland new girlfriend agrees with him.

”I call it art, because that's what it is.” My voice is unintentionally loud and Lee looks up, sees who I'm talking to and shakes his head at me. Stung, I raise my voice to explain for his and the others' benefit. ”Apparently Lauren doesn't think tattoos can be art.”

”Because they can't,” she mutters.

”How can you say that? Who are you to define what someone else calls art?”

”You're trying to define what I mean by art, aren't you? Stretching it to include tattoos.”

My brain skips a beat. This does sound like what I'm doing, but...

Lauren shrugs. ”Whatever. It's hardly like it matters what I think anyway.” She looks at the time on her watch. ”Doesn't the signing start soon?”

In one short conversation, Lauren has managed to hate on my tattoo, question the importance of something I really care about and dismiss me for caring enough to want to convince her. Now she's hauling Kaz up from the rug, saying a cheery farewell to Lee and the others and hooking her arm in Kaz's.

I hate her.

22 * LOVE IS A KNIFE

RUBY.

When I saw the screen earlier, the thought of queuing up to meet Adam Wexler nearly melted my mind, let alone my pants. Now, trudging back from the toilets after was.h.i.+ng the dried ink from my arm, I can't even summon up the kind of excitement I feel when I wear a new T-s.h.i.+rt for the first time. Kaz broke the seal when she let Lauren in and now all the colour's drained out of my mood and as I turn greyer, Kaz grows brighter. I get close to the source of the suns.h.i.+ne as Lauren's telling Kaz she could totally get a kiss on the cheek from Adam Wexter.

”Adam Wexler,” I say with more force than necessary as I join Lauren and Kaz in the queue.

”Wexter, Wexler, Dexter, whatever,” Lauren sings. ”He won't be able to resist this.” And she frames Kaz's face with her hands Vogue-style, but instead of making some self-deprecating comment, Kaz is totally into it, sucking her cheeks in and pouting/giggling.

How come Kaz is deaf to all the nice things I say about her, but hears them loud and clear when they come out of Lauren's mouth?

”Pose, pose...” There's a frozen moment when Lauren clicks a selfie of her and Kaz. She does not ask me to get involved, because as I appear to be the only one who's noticed she doesn't give a s.h.i.+t about anything I do. They look at the screen and just as Kaz wrinkles her nose at the picture of herself, Lauren says, ”Smokin', Kaz. They should name you a fire hazard.”

G.o.d. Who says stuff like that?

And Kaz blushes like she believes it. The last time I told her she looked good in a photo, she declared she had an extra chin and deleted it from my phone, as she does almost all my favourite photos of her. If Kaz goes missing tomorrow, it'll be this one of her and Lauren that the police will plaster all over the papers.

”Doesn't she look good, Ruby?” Lauren shoves the stupid thing under my nose and I nod, barely looking.

”No better than usual.” Which I only realize sounds catty once I've said it. I mean that Kaz usually looks that good, but that's not how it sounds. Lauren gives me a look and Kaz reaches for the phone to delete the picture out of habit, but Lauren s.n.a.t.c.hes it away.

”Doesn't my mate look hot?”

My mate.

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