MORNING HAS GIVEN WAY TO a scarcely brighter afternoon, where the clouds remain in their thick sheets and the sun stays suffocated. The world is gloomy and grey and miserable, and even the sound of the rain hammering outside does nothing to permeate the silence inside the car.
Archer and I lapsed into an unspoken rule of quietude at least half an hour ago, and since then, he's been steering us into a part of Elmsbury I've never seen before except for as a name on a map at the underground station near my house.
I focus my attention on my phone. My data plan resets tomorrow, and with a last day of rationing, I've done nothing but flip the device up and down in my hands since conversation died into an uncomfortable lull. The only text I've received is one from Ebony, and I've made sure not to open that one. I'm still not ready to talk to him, and even the idea of being able to stomach looking at his face seems far off on the horizon.
"That seems like a productive use of your time," Archer comments. Expression calm, but in truth, he sounds angry. "Well, it must be, since it's more important to you than telling me that Ebony was waiting for a lift to school."
"Archer…" I exhale his name, shifting my feet. "We got into a fight, okay? And since when were you guys best friends again anyway?"
"It's always something with you." His eyes dart to mine.
"Isn't that a good thing? I'm finally learning to have a personality," I retort, and I swear his jaw unhinges.
"Not so much as you're letting yourself get caught up by whatever happens to you," he says. "Like fighting with Ebony and running out on him. I want to know, Ivory, what are we doing here?"
I sigh, leaning my head against the window. The one on his side is ajar, and the spinning winds disperse over my legs, cutting a chill up my thighs and carving it in blood. "My mother made us both appointments with Mr Rose. I said I didn't want one, but she didn't want to hear it. So, I went to tell Ebony...and he kinda just acted as if I was being dumb about this whole thing."
"Oh." I want to believe it's sympathy that's beginning to warm his voice. "So you chose to hijack me for singing lessons?"
"It was the first thing I came up with," I admit. "But I do actually want them."
"Luckily we're here then," Archer announces, pulling between the two white lines marking the parking spot and turning off the engine. "Come on." He stares at me. "Let's go."
I obediently follow, unbuckling my seatbelt and following him out of the car. I realise too late he has child-locked the passenger door, so resort to climbing onto the driver's side. My knee bashes against the dashboard as I crawl over the console, dexterously careful not to change the gears in my uncomfortable state.
Finding gravel beneath my feet is a relief.
"Child-lock?" I glower. He shrugs.
"There was every chance you'd throw yourself out. Maybe go back to the dark side. It's not like you haven't done it before," he mutters, and it becomes increasingly clear that everything is against me today.
"I appreciate the faith in me," I shoot back, annoyed, shoving my hands in my blazer pockets as I approach the door. There's a pinboard to the left of it, scattered with posters that have seen the worst of the rain, long since faded back into the sky. "Wow. They actually are accepting sign-ups for singing lessons."
"If I didn't take you to where you wanted, it would be considered kidnapping," Archer remarks, coming up beside me. "Let's go."
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