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WESTFIELD IS CROWDED. Shoppers swarm in every direction, dragging along clinking bags or toddlers throwing tantrums in front of store windows.
It’s chaos. Loud, messy, overstimulating chaos. The kind I’d usually complain about, the kind that would have me counting the minutes until I could escape.
But today? It’s… nice. Comforting, almost. The noise, the movement-it fills the empty spaces in my chest, the ones that still ache when I let myself sit too quietly for too long.
I scoop a spoonful of vanilla ice cream into my mouth, letting it melt slowly on my tongue. Sweet. Simple. It’s probably the only thing keeping me grounded right now. The urges haven’t gone away. They never really do. They sit quietly in the background, like a song stuck on repeat that I can’t shut off. But being here-with Cora beside me-it dulls the edge just a little.
She’s next to me, swinging her mint choc chip around like it’s a magic wand. Thirteen and somehow cooler than I’ve ever been. She’s got this attitude that screams I don’t care, but I’ve learned enough about people to know that the ones who act like they care the least usually care the most.
“You really didn’t have to buy me this,” she says, her thumb brushing the silver necklace resting against her collarbone. The delicate ‘C’ pendant catches the light as she fiddles with it for the tenth time since I made her try it on.
“Of course I did.” I nudge her shoulder with mine. “You deserve something nice. Plus, if I have to drag you around shops all afternoon, listening to you moan and complain, then I’m at least bribing you to enjoy it.”
She rolls her eyes, but I catch the smile she tries to hide. “I know you’re only here because Connie asked you.”
“He did,” I admit with a shrug. “But I also wanted to come.”
She doesn’t say anything to that right away. Just picks at the edge of her ice cream cup with her nails. “He acts like I’m some baby that needs protecting,” she sighs, arms folding across her chest in that teenage way that screams defensive.
“Maybe,” I say gently. “But he just wants you to be okay. You’re his little sister, Cora. He’d do anything for you.”
“I am okay.”
I arch a brow. “Cora.”
She exhales sharply, like I’ve poked a bruise. “It’s just… everyone my age takes weed and drinks a little. It’s not even that serious.”
It’s not serious? God, if only she knew how serious it becomes when it spirals. I stare down at my now-empty cup, fingers tightening around the plastic spoon.
“Listen,” I say, voice a little lower now, “I know a girl who got addicted to drugs.”
Her head snaps toward me, eyes wide. “You do?”
“Yeah.” My throat tightens. “And she’s only sixteen.”
“What happened to her?”
“It got really bad,” I whisper. “Worse than anyone around her realised. She was good at hiding it. But eventually, it caught up with her. It always does.”
Cora looks down at her lap, fingers still toying with her necklace. “Is she okay now?”
“She’s trying.” My voice cracks. “She’s getting help. From someone who makes her want to be better.” Someone who doesn’t even realise how much he’s helping.
“Shit.”
“Shit indeed.” I laugh, but it’s hollow. Thin. Like I’m holding it together with tape.
There’s a long pause between us. The kind that isn’t awkward-just quiet. Careful.
“It’s my friends, you know?” she says, barely above a whisper. “They always convince me to try stuff. Like, if I say no, I’m being dramatic or boring or whatever.”
I nod slowly. “Then they’re not your real friends.”
She snorts. “That’s exactly what Connie says.”
“Well… as much as it physically pains me to say this-he’s right.”
She chuckles. “God, I hate when he’s a know-it-all.”
I smile. “He’s not always wrong though. And he only nags because he loves you. He’s scared.”
“Scared?”
“Yeah. Of losing you. Of watching you fall into something you can’t come back from.”
Cora goes quiet again. Her ice cream’s a puddle now, but she doesn’t seem to care.
“You like him, don’t you?”
“What?” I blink. “Who?”
“Connie.”
I nearly choke. “Excuse me?”
She grins wide, mischievous. “You like him. I can tell. Is that why he snuck out to see you the other night?”
I play dumb, clutching my chest in mock horror. “Me? Never.”
“Oh, please.” She’s full-on laughing now. “You two are so obvious it’s painful.”
“We’re friends.”
She lifts an unimpressed eyebrow. “That’s your story and you’re sticking to it?”
“Yep.”
She grins and leans back in her chair. “Well, for what it’s worth, I ship it.”
“You are thirteen,” I say, shaking my head.
“And you are in denial.”
I roll my eyes but a smile sits on my lips. I’m not in denial but she’s delusional. He’s a really good friend. Sweet. Funny. Annoying but in a sort of charming way. I can’t imagine him liking me, wanting me. Or maybe I don’t want to imagine it because he wouldn’t like the real me. The one that’s hidden from all the walls and lies I’ve built.
I stand up to toss my empty cup into the bin. I shouldn’t think about that now, so I decide to switch the subject. “Who’ve you been hanging around with anyway?” I ask, standing up to toss my empty cup.
“Some girls from school. I’m closest to Holly Wells now. Which is mad because we used to hate each other.”
“Holly Wells?” I raise a brow. “Does she have an older sister?”
“Yeah,” she confirms. “Ava.”
I nearly gag. “Oh my God. Ava Wells is the devil.”
Cora laughs so loud the old lady next to us flinches.
“I’m serious!” I say, hands up. “She goes to Trinity but somehow she’s got a reputation at Royal too.”
“She’s a nightmare,” Cora admits. “And super fake. Like, she’s only nice when people are watching.”
“Classic mean girl. You’re better off without that whole family.”
“I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
I grin. “Look at you. Philosophical and fashionable.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out. Aaron. Of course.
Aaron:
How’s it going with my two favourite girls?
I roll my eyes but the corners of my mouth betray me.
Me:
Making progress.
By the way, your sister’s funnier than you.
Aaron:
Has she already turned you against me?
It’s been two hours.
Me:
Who said I wasn’t against you to
begin with?
Aaron:
Nah.
You’re head over heels for me, admit it.
Me:
Lies.
I’m still smiling when I tuck the phone away. Of course, Cora notices. “You’re smiling again.”
“Shut up.”
“I’m just saying.” She grins. “You guys are happy when you’re talking or hanging out. That’s not a bad thing.”
She’s right. I am happy when I’m around him. Happier than I’ve ever been.
“You’re good for him,” she adds with a small smile.
If only she knew what I’ve gotten myself into, then she wouldn’t have said that. Would I ruin Aaron like Felix said? I guess that’s all the more reason to stay clean and fight the urges.
We walk through the shops for another hour. We try on sunglasses we have no intention of buying. Cora makes me put on the ugliest dress she can find and calls it vintage couture. I tell her she looks like a Baby Spice wannabe and she wears the label proudly.
We laugh. Like a proper laugh. And for a little while, I forget. I forget the darkness, the weight, the mess inside me. I forget the fact that I’m still healing from something I don’t fully understand. Being here with her-it feels like I’m doing something right. Like I’m not completely broken.
“Thanks for today,” she says quietly, after we leave the last shop.
I look over at her. “Anytime. Seriously.”
She tucks her hair behind her ear and looks down at her necklace. “I haven’t had a day like this since my mum…”
She doesn’t have to finish the sentence for me to know what she’s trying to say. “I’m glad you fun,” I mutter softly, nudging her shoulder.
She looks up at me through her lashes, a smile on her face. She seems completely different than when we walked into the mall. Happier. Lighter. Like a weight had been taken off her shoulders.
Cora leans into me as we head for the exit, bags in hand. “I hope she’s okay,” she murmurs.
My brows furrow. “Who?”
“The girl you told me about. The one who’s trying to get better.”
I swallow. “Me too, Cora.”
Because that girl? That girl is me. And I really, really hope she’s gonna be okay too.
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