The Museum of Broken Things by Lauren Draper

The Museum of Broken Things by Lauren Draper

Author:Lauren Draper
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The Text Publishing Company
Published: 2022-04-20T00:00:00+00:00


14

MONDAY COMES FAR too soon, my body raw and aching from too many late nights and swimming sessions, the skin permanently pruned on my fingertips. My hair is matted into a chlorinated mess, the curls heaped on one side, dried in a haphazard tangle where my head hit the pillow.

Gideon picks me up so early that the sun hasn’t even risen yet. He waits leaning against his car, smiling as I thrust my overloaded gym bag at him.

‘I hate mornings. I hate swimming. I hate you.’

He drops a kiss on my head and tosses the bag into his trunk. ‘Good morning to you too. How about coffee first?’

I grunt at him and buckle myself in as he starts the car. We texted until I fell asleep with my phone propped in my hand, and I jolted awake to the sound of an alarm I dearly wanted to throw against a stack of bricks.

A car pulls up behind us, idling on the kerb. I spin around, clutching the headrest. It’s too dark to see the driver, but that ridiculous red doorless Jeep is instantly recognisable.

‘Is that Billy Martin?’

Gideon shrugs. ‘Yeah, guess so.’

‘Is he even old enough to drive?’

Theo comes bounding out of the house and throws himself into the car, far more awake than I am. My mouth gapes open and I wave my arms frantically through the rear window—he does an excellent job of pretending not to see me.

‘Kid’s been driving since he was twelve,’ Gideon says. ‘Sorry, city girl, things are kinda different round here. He probably shouldn’t be driving himself into town, though I doubt anyone would ticket him.’

‘I didn’t realise he and Theo were such buds. I can’t believe him. Is he sneaking around? I swear to god, if that moron corrupts my baby brother into sneaking out and drinking—’

‘Like we did—’

‘That’s different.’

He smirks, so I stick my finger in one of his dimples.

‘You’re vicious before caffeine,’ he says.

‘Just drive the car, Hawthorn.’

I narrow my eyes at the rearview mirror, catching a glimpse of a red plaid shirt. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen that shirt before, and it was on Theo’s floor. But no, that’s ridiculous. Billy is aggressively heteronormative—he wears Bintang singlets, his favourite movie is the fifth Fast and the Furious movie and half his meals are protein shakes. There’s no way.

We pull up at the Beach Bean and find that Mrs Kostakis already has our coffees made. I run in and out, pausing long enough to yell thank you over my shoulder, conscious that we’re probably late.

Sure enough, when we arrive, everyone else is already in the water. The coach makes us swim in separate lanes, which devolves into me and Gideon trying to race each other without properly racing. Then we’re set to drills, dives and a final relay set.

Just as I think my arms might actually turn to rubber, the coach blows the blessed whistle to signal the end of practice and calls out, ‘States next week! Don’t forget your permission slips!’

I



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