CECE, DISRESPECTFULLY | rewriting

26: UNSOLICITED ADVICE

            The weather takes another turn for the worse in the following week. Sleet and rain pellet the city in turns, the wind so aggressive that I swear it rains sideways. By Friday, the sludge gathered on the streets could best be described as ice soup which makes it impossible to skateboard anywhere. It's also impossible to walk because I don't own waterproof shoes. Stupid for someone in Manchester.

So when Nicolás offers to drive me to school, I begrudgingly accept. If the weather were any better, I absolutely would not. He carpools with Caleb on the days that Caleb comes into the office and now he thinks it's normal—he's been offering to drive me to school since I moved in and I don't need him to get any ideas about us holding hands and singing My Little Pony in the future.

He's smiling too much for comfort. I cross my arms and slouch in the passenger seat so he knows I'm not enjoying this. Some nineties R&B that I'm not bothered to know the name of plays from his bluetooth and Nicolás hums along. Until Isaac Evans Community Academy comes into sight and he lowers the volume.

'Caleb's got a show at Spectrum tonight.'

I make a face at myself in the side mirror. Thank you for sharing. I'm very interested.

'Would you mind if I go?' he continues. 'I've not got a shift and it'll go pretty late but it's his first show in a while and I'd really like to be there for support.'

I turn to him with raised eyebrows. Does he reckon that I reckon we'll spend Friday night together cause of one four-minute drive?

'Why would I mind?'

Nicolás parks on the curb, focus shifting between mirrors, but his eyes flick to me once or twice. 'You'll be alright alone?'

'I'm not four. So... yeah, I reckon.'

Other than work and sometimes the gym, Nicolás has barely left the house since I moved in. He didn't even go to Caleb's birthday party and I'm pretty sure that's considered an indictable offence in the Best Mate Laws. I'd be worried he's becoming a hermit if I didn't know it's not a lack of desire or ability to go out that's the issue—he's got more mates than I can imagine being convenient—but that he's just scared to leave me unsupervised. Like I'll burn the bloody house down or summat.

Though I can't blame him; he has had to nurse my wounds often enough to know what I get up to when I'm unsupervised. Much to my discontent, mind—I'd much rather be left to my own devices.

'You can phone me if you need summat. It won't be a bother, swear down.'

'Yeah.' I pull my backpack from my feet. 'I'll do that.'

Phoning Nicolás is the last thing on my list of things I'd do if I needed help. I'd sooner call my case worker—at least O'Dorcey is honest about hating me.

Someone honks at us for being too slow with drop off and I've already pulled the door handle when I stop. Diwa shields herself with an umbrella, piercing the air with its pointed end, but the hem of her pleated skirt is soaked. Though I didn't die from being in her presence for one meal at Nicolás's insistence to treat us to (vegan, in our case) fish and chips after maths olympiad last Saturday, school, somehow, has become more awkward.

I wait for her to enter the gates and sprint across the forecourt before I move.

'Be nice to her.'

I turn from the school doors to stare at Nicolás, barely registering the second honk of other waiting parents. 'I'm sorry,' I say with every drop of incredulity I can muster, 'come again.'

'It can't be easy for her with her parents so distant.'

'How'd you deduce that?'

He shrugs, stammers responses for a moment. 'Call it intuition. I'm sure it would mean a lot to her to have someone express interest.'

'But I'm not interested. We are not mates.'

Nicolás rolls his eyes, glancing at the traffic bottled in our rearview. No one without an ID is let into the school car park which means parents are left doing drop off on the curb outside the gate but the road ain't exactly spacious.

'Just be decent, is all I'm saying,' Nicolás concludes. 'It wouldn't kill you to have a friend.'