sort themselves out. But they won’t! You need to sort your life out, Matt. You need to sort out your own life.”
There’s silence for a few seconds. Matt is staring fixedly at me, breathing hard, his face unreadable.
“Is that so?” he says at last, his voice ominous. “Is that so? You think I’m the only one who needs to sort their life out? You want to hear about your suitcases, Ava?”
“What do you mean?” I say, startled.
“You’ve got so much shit in suitcases, I don’t know where to start.” He counts off on his fingers. “Novel. Aromatherapy course. Rescue furniture. Fucking…batik. Dog who won’t do what he’s told. Unsafe windows. Unpaid bills mixed up with, I don’t know, horoscopes. Your life’s a mess. It’s a bloody mess!”
My life’s a what? Somehow, through my shock, my brain pieces together a reply.
“I have a portfolio career,” I say in my most lacerating tones. “Which might be challenging for you to comprehend, Matt. But I wouldn’t expect you to understand how I live, because you have a very closed mind.”
“Well, if you ask me, Ava, your mind’s too bloody open!” Matt explodes. “It’s open to every flotsam-and-jetsam piece of crap out there! You make a new plan every week. But you really want to achieve any one of these aims you claim to have? Then focus. Focus on one of them. Finish the aromatherapy course, find some clients, and be that. You’d be great. Or do the podcast. Or write your novel. Pick one and make it happen. Stop explaining how impossible it is, stop making endless excuses, stop faffing around…and just do it!”
Blood is beating in my cheeks as I stare back at him. I don’t make endless excuses. Do I?
Do I?
“You’ve never…” I pause, trying to keep my voice steady. “You’ve never said that before.”
“No. Well. Sorry.”
He doesn’t sound remotely apologetic. He sounds matter-of-fact. Like he’s saying real stuff. Like he’s finally saying what he thinks instead of what he thinks I want to hear.
“That’s what you’ve thought of me all this time?” I say, my head feeling hot. “That I’m a flake?”
“I haven’t thought you’re a flake,” says Matt. “But I’ve thought it’s a shame. You could get somewhere, you know?”
The remaining piece of sculpture falls off the wall with a little crash, and we both jump, then stare at it lying on the floor.
“It was an accident,” I say yet again, but my voice is hopeless, and I’m not sure I even believe myself.
“There are no accidents,” chimes in Topher, whizzing into the hall on a child’s scooter, then stopping abruptly as he sees the damage. He glances swiftly from me to Matt, and I can see him taking in the situation. “I mean, there are,” he amends. “There are accidents that are just accidents. They have no other significance.”
“Huh,” says Matt gruffly. I can’t even bring myself to answer. Topher looks from me to Matt and back again, his expression suddenly stricken.
“Don’t break up, guys,” he says quietly, and he sounds more sincere than I’ve ever heard him. “It’s not a breakup thing. Whatever it is.”
I don’t move a muscle in response, and neither does Matt. My eyes are locked on his. We could be in a martial-arts ring.
Without saying another word, Topher backs his scooter out of the hall, and a few moments later there’s the sound of his bedroom door closing. And we’re still staring each other down.
“Is this a breakup thing?” says Matt at last, his voice flat. “Because I don’t know what the fuck the rules are.”
“I don’t have any rules,” I say, feeling instantly prickly.
“You don’t have any rules?” He stares at me with scathing incredulity. “Ava, you have nothing but rules. Jeez! ‘We’re not telling each other anything. Now just one fact. Now five questions.’ I can’t keep up. I don’t know where I am.”
“You don’t know where you are?” I feel white-hot with rage. “You don’t know?”
I’m fighting two strong impulses. An impulse to make up and an impulse to hurt him the way I’ve been hurt. I guess the hurt impulse is just more powerful.
“I thought I didn’t have any deal-breakers.” My words burst out of me in a wounded stream. “I didn’t even believe in them. But you know something? If I was looking at an online profile and it said, ‘By the way, I’ll lie about my ex-girlfriend and plan to move to Japan without mentioning it,’ that would be a deal-breaker. Sorry to be