Love Your Life(53)

“How many votes did you get?” I ask, at which Topher scowls without replying, turns away, and starts typing furiously.

“Shh! Don’t mention the votes,” says Matt in a fake whisper, drawing his finger across his neck and wincing comically at me.

“Sorry! Well, er…what were your policies?”

“They were many and complex,” says Topher without breaking off from typing. “I took inspiration from a number of political ideologies across the spectrum.”

“Some of them were quite challenging,” says Matt, winking at me.

“They required vision,” replies Topher stonily. “The electorate wasn’t ready for them.”

“Well, better luck next time,” I say diplomatically. “Stupid voters. Matt, we really need to go. Harold, come on!”

Matt grabs his jacket and says, “See you,” to Topher and Nihal—and we’re just walking out when Nihal suddenly calls out, “Hey, guys! The counter!”

As though responding to some sort of code-red military command, Matt instantly pivots back to Topher’s workstation.

“Loading,” says Topher urgently. “Come on, you bastard…there.”

There’s silence as he and Matt stare at the screen, while Nihal gazes at his phone, gripped. I’m not watching. I refuse to. This is the stupidest fixation I have ever known. All of them are obsessed by the number of Internet users in the world. There’s a live Internet counter that you can watch. Every so often it reaches some key number and they all stand breathlessly watching the numerals turning over.

    I was there when the count reached 4.684 billion and had the whole thing explained to me. I stood there, absolutely baffled, while we watched the counter go from 4,683,999,999 to 4,684,000,000. All three guys high-fived. Nihal actually cheered.

And now they’re avidly watching again. The number of Internet users in the world. I mean, why? It’s so weird. It’s so random.

“Yes!” erupts Topher as the number rounds up to a row of zeroes. He high-fives Matt, then Nihal, who is already posting on Instagram a photo he took of the screen.

“Yay!” I say politely. “Super-fun. OK, can we go now?”

“Sure,” says Matt. Then he seems to notice me for the first time. “Wow, Ava, you look great!”

“Thanks,” I say, blossoming as he runs his eyes over me. “You do too.”

Unlike any other man I’ve dated, Matt has this way of looking at me that says he’s actually noticed me—he’s not just going through the motions. He focuses. He sends me little messages with his eyes, and I send my own back. It’s like a delicious, silent conversation.

And as I lose myself in his affectionate, steady gaze, I feel ridiculous. All my concerns about Genevieve seem to fall away. Those worries are in my head, I remind myself, whereas this man is here. With me. And that’s what counts.





Thirteen




We’re meeting for the picnic at Maud’s local park, and when we’re a few streets away, I take the opportunity to prime Matt on my friends.

“You’ll get used to Maud,” I say encouragingly. “The important thing to remember is, don’t say yes to her.”

“?‘Don’t say yes’?” Matt frowns, puzzled. “What does that mean?”

“She’ll ask you for favors,” I explain. “She’ll be really charming. And you’ll want to say yes to everything, but you have to say no. Got it? Say no. Otherwise, you’ll turn into her slave.”

“Right.” Matt seems somewhat alarmed by the prospect of Maud, so I hastily move on.

“Nell can be a bit…She’s a character. She has views. And Sarika’s quite perfectionist. But I love them all, and you have to as well. They’re part of the deal.”

    “Don’t worry, that’s pretty obvious,” says Matt with a wry expression, and I peer at him, puzzled.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you WhatsApp your friends all day and all night, Ava.” He raises his eyebrows. “No one could miss the fact that they’re part of the deal.”

We walk on in silence as I digest his comment. It seems a little exaggerated to me. All day and all night? Really?

“Do you have a problem with me WhatsApping my friends?” I say at last.

I don’t want to have a disagreement. But on the other hand, this is something we need to be clear on, preferably before we arrive at the picnic. Because my friends are my friends, and if you love me, you love them.

“Of course not,” says Matt, and there’s a slightly prickly silence. “But…” he adds, and I inhale sharply. I knew there was a “but,” I knew it.

“Yes?” I say shortly, ready to launch into a six-page speech about my friends and our bond and our support and how I thought he valued friendship. My friends are my tiger cubs and I’m ready to lash out with a gigantic roar if he so much as—

“Maybe not during sex?” says Matt, and I stare at him, brought up short. Sex? What’s he talking about? I don’t WhatsApp during sex!

“I don’t,” I retort.

“You do.”

“I wouldn’t ever WhatsApp during sex! I’m not that kind of person!”