Rewritten

Chapter 2: Adjustment

 "I'm going to see him," I tell her again. I move to pick up my bag, making sure to have everything in it this time, and move towards the door. Art watches me with amusement.

 "Sure you don't mean Connor?"

 "What?" I pull my head from the closet where I've begun digging for practical shoes and stare at her in surprise. "Why would I be going to Connor's?"

 Art looks at me like I'm an idiot. "Did you fall out of the wrong side of the bed this morning?" She waves at the mural of photos. "You practically live over there. Usually when you say you’re visiting dad it's code for you meeting Connor for a make-out session."

 I'm horrified that that's the kind of person I'm believed to be -the type that will lie about going to visit her own divorced father just to make out with a guy. It seems I've learnt to play my parents well. "Well I'm actually going to visit dad," I say haughtily, unable to keep the annoyed tone from my voice. "I'm seeing Connor tomorrow."

 "Oooh, where?" Art immediately flips into girl best friend mode. One of her many talents is getting people to like her, making it impossible to ever be mad at her for long.

 "Moreno's."

 Art smiles ruefully. "You love Moreno's. Good choice." She gets up to leave. "There's a party Friday night at Uni. Want to come?"

 "Sure," I say. I've had a fake ID since I've turned sixteen. Not because I enjoy drinking (Art would never invite me if I was that type of person) but because me attending the clubs with Art enables me to watch her and know she's safe. Art's always found my over-protectiveness amusing, because thanks to the promise I made to my parents years ago, she's the only one in our immediate family that has no idea of what I am. Only my mum, my dad, and a few other altereds know the truth. Besides, who really wants to know that they could possibly die in a year? I certainly wouldn't. Me going with Art enables me to watch her... and hopefully get one step closer to figuring out why someone would want to kill my sister, who's never mean to anyone unless they give her a strong reason to. "Is there a theme?"

 "Film characters, I think." She shrugs. "Who cares? You want a ride as far a campus?"

 "Sure." I grin at the chance to spend more time with her. "You have room in the car, right?"

 I am not kidding. Art once came over to take stuff to her flat (despite her uni only being a bus ride away, she insisted on moving out) and didn't have any room in the car. Her solution was to toss me into the boot -an experience I will never repeat since it ended up with me holding onto the sides of the car for dear life.

 Only after I say it do I remember that it might not have happened in this reality.

 "That was one time!" I breathe a sigh of relief and can't stop the grin spreading across my face at Art's response. "But for the record, the car has nothing in it."

 "If you say so," I tease, knowing it will annoy her. She reacts the way I expect.

 "Want that ride or not?"

 I mime zipping my lips and am deadly silent until we get into the car. Once inside, we take one look at each other and promptly burst out laughing.

 ****

 Lectures, unfortunately, are not so funny, though at least you're allowed to sleep in them. As my dad drones on about Helen of Troy, I sneak yet another glance at my mobile. We still have forty minutes to go and counting until it's over. I do the rational thing by covering myself with my coat, using my bag as a pillow, and sleeping.