0263927350 by A. L. Bird

0263927350 by A. L. Bird

Author:A. L. Bird [Bird, A. L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781474049566
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2016-04-28T21:00:00+00:00


Chapter 36

As I take the mug from him our hands touch.

There’s a frisson, like an electric shock in my spine. I jerk my hand back. The mug slips from our grasp, towards the floor. His hand darts out to catch it. Good reflexes.

‘Careful,’ he says. ‘You don’t want coffee spilling everywhere!’

He looks at me like that is supposed to mean something.

‘Sorry,’ I say.

We try again. I take the mug. I’m careful to avoid touching his hand. I don’t understand that frisson. It was like a physical connection, as if …

As if nothing. Excitement, that’s all. Excitement that he’s handing me the tool for his own death.

I expect him to go again, to leave me to drink it in peace, but he lingers at the doorway.

‘Go on, then,’ he says. ‘Drink up.’

I look down into the mug. It will contain some drug, some doping agent, I know it will.

‘I’ll save it for later,’ I say. ‘I like my coffee cold.’

He raises an eyebrow at me. He doesn’t go away. Instead, he leans against the door frame.

‘I’ll wait,’ he says.

So. There must definitely be something in the coffee. Otherwise, why so adamant? And if he stays, he’ll take the cup back with him too, won’t he?

Maybe I can placate him. Maybe I can drink half now, pretend I’ll drink the other half later.

I take a sip. It’s hot and sweet. Is there an undertone of something else? Something noxious? Something that will see me wake up tomorrow morning, sore, in tangled sheets?

‘It’s too hot,’ I try again.

He shrugs. ‘As I said, I’ll wait.’

Damn. I take another sip. It tastes good. It would taste better with a cupcake. I have a sudden yearning for that melting of buttercream in my mouth, the breaking away of moist yellow crumbs, the satisfying licking of the blue and red patterned cake liner. I think of the ‘hundreds and thousands’ or brown and white crumbled Oreos, or little silver balls I could put on top. Running my hands through them beforehand in their little jars, feeling their texture in my fingers. Smelling the sweet luxuriousness of the sugar. Or perhaps the citrus scent of some candied orange peel.

I realise my eyes are shut. I open them to the stale beige room. And the empty whiteness of the mug.

I’ve drunk all the coffee.

‘Finished?’ he asks.

‘There are still some dregs,’ I lie. I clutch the mug to me, like I’m enjoying its warmth. Which I am. But that’s not the point.

He doesn’t inspect the mug. He inspects me, though. He looks me up and down. Like he’s trying to sense something. Some change. Some sudden bedability. Extra vulnerability.

I keep my poker face. Or at least, I think I do. But maybe I’ve betrayed something. Because there’s a slight upward turn of his mouth.

‘Sleep well,’ he says. Which is odd. Because it’s not night (I don’t think). And caffeine isn’t renowned for its sleep inducing properties.

But, of course, that wasn’t just coffee. My soppy reverie about the world of senses outside this room has done for me; whatever was in that drink, I’m going to succumb.



Download



Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.