Honey(29)

“Mack is like the pinnacle for these men. It’s so sad.”

“Mack’s English?” Yrsa now has up his Wikipedia page.

“He grew up in Leeds. He likes to give the impression that he’s working class but he’s actually from a pretty wealthy family.”

“You know a lot about him?”

Aria looks at her notebook. “He went to the same school as my brother.”

“Which school was that?”

“Radcliff College.”

“Interesting.”



* * *





Once back in her room she takes off her workout gear and wraps herself in a towel to shower. But she doesn’t shower, she just sits on the edge of her bed, thinking. Felix Smith. Sam Mack. Celia. She reactivates her Bumble.



* * *





Bumps. It’s an end-of-term thing where all the rowers race down the river trying to—bump—one another. Unoriginal. And not something Yrsa has engaged with before, yet here she seems to be, looking for her friends, being a college sap. It’s difficult to spot anyone among so many people drinking Pimm’s and acting like its summer. It’s 15°C.

“Come on Homerton!”

A boat of eight boys skims past, blades atop the water.

The other bank is equally rowdy with people trying to watch the racing. It’s not a straight run of water, and the Cam turns around cottages, bridges, Midsummer Common.

“Get ’em Girton. Go on!”

It’s simply beyond her why people would care about racing down a river. She scans again, picking out the blue of Skye’s braids. She has to step around the picnic blankets, trying not to lose sight of them.

“There she is.” Yasmin appears out of nowhere with a man on her arm. “We’ve got bubbles, have had bubbles.” She’s already tipsy, flashing her thigh through the long slit in her denim skirt.

The man on her arm, Luis, is waving at the river as another boat glides past. “Go on boys!” He turns. “Nothing I like more than getting drunk and watching men thrusting.”

Luis is Yasmin’s friend. Tall, Colombian, gay—not that this stopped Yrsa giving it a go.

A plastic cup suddenly appears before her and is being filled, overfilled, with prosecco.

“Drink up,” Yasmin demands.

And Yrsa does, needing to catch up.

Farther down the grass Skye and Ida seem deep in conversation.

“I didn’t know Ida was coming,” Yrsa says.

“Yeah, Skye invited her.”

Yrsa wasn’t aware that Skye and Ida were becoming better friends. Ida is wearing the Free People top she wears when she wants to look cute and sexy. She must be cold.

Luis shouts some general words of sporting encouragement as another boat turns the bend. Only this time one of the rowers catches a crab and the whole thing is thrown off; the mistake sends the crowd into uproar.

“Get ’em, Peterhouse! Get ’em!”

“Who’s winning?” Yrsa asks Luis.

“Fuck knows. Trin-it-y. Trin-it-y.”

“Trinity isn’t even rowing now.” Yasmin punches Luis’s arm and both of them start laughing at nothing.

Yrsa takes the bottle off the ground, pouring herself a second plastic cupful. Farther down the river she watches boats being carried in and out of the open doors of the rowing clubs. It’s all boys—shorts and vests and arms. Taking whoever’s bag of Tyrrells crisps is at her feet, she walks down the bank to sit between Ida and Skye on the grass.

“Crisps?” Yrsa wishes she wasn’t wearing her tighter jeans, they’re uncomfortable to sit crossed-legged in.

“Please.” Ida’s hand goes in.

“How was your supervision?” Skye asks.

“Boring.”

“I can’t believe what happened.” Ida has the look of shock she often likes to wear.

“What?” Yrsa eats two crisps in one as the people in front get splashed by the rowers.

“Skye matching with Felix.”

Yrsa forgets that Ida knows about Felix.

“Yeah I know, mad.” She doesn’t want to talk about it and adjusts her tone to convey as much.

“We were just saying—”

“That now he’s blocked.” Skye is quick to cut Ida off.

“Where’s Serena?” Yrsa hopes she’s buried under books somewhere.

Ida shrugs. “Working, I think.”

“You think?”

“I don’t need to know where she is at all hours,” Ida snaps. Ida never snaps.

“Beer?” Skye offers her a Carlsberg.

“I’m good thanks, on prosecco.”

“I think those two have drunk a bottle each.”

They look back to Yasmin and Luis who are swaying, singing “Jerusalem” off-key.

“Yes! Go go go. Yes!” The crowd getting excited for something. Behind them a group of students start playing Charli XCX from a UE Boom.

“It’s kind of cold.” Ida is rubbing her arms.

“I’ve got another jumper. Where’s my—” Skye looks around her. “Two secs.” She gets up to retrieve the belongings that Yasmin and Luis have abandoned.

Ida leans closer to Yrsa. “You don’t think he did it deliberately, do you?”