After one of the most embarrassing experiences of her life, Viola Hawkins is left feeling hopeless and demoralised. So when she's told that she's able to work as an undercover agent in a boarding school, she's given a new chance to change her life...
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"Sit down, lovely." Avery says, pushing me into my seat.
Will is staring at me, looking as equally shocked as I am.
As Avery goes to get some menus, a bell sounds, signalling Emily and Fred's departure. Through the glass windows, they smile and wave, sending stupid grins to us.
Oh, boy am I going to get payback for this.
Major payback.
Unfortunately, there isn't much I can do at this point, considering Avery is giving me a stern look from across the room.
"What did they tell you?" I ask Will, who looks up so sharply that he nearly falls off his chair. Clearly, he wasn't expecting me to talk to him.
He clears his throat. "They said I won the random draw thing. You know, to get a free drink."
"They said the same to me." I reply, groaning. "Those assholes."
A faint smile hints at the corner of his lips, but it is gone as soon as Avery returns, pushing menus into our hands. "Choose a drink. It's on me today." She says, nodding as if to confirm it.
"So, we did win the draw?" I ask, focusing my eyes on her kind face. She looks just the same as we last saw her - her hair scraped up in a bun, wearing a floral dress with a pink apron.
She smiles. "The draw's not till next week. But I'll get you a free drink anyway. Besides, do you even have any money on you?"
She makes a point.
After collecting our menus, she heads off to make our drinks, Will once again getting a milkshake as he did before.
I didn't think about what would happen once Avery left. Will and I haven't spoken in ages, so we're hardly going to be bursting with conversation. In fact, we're completely silent, not looking each other in the eyes as we listen to the murmur of customers who are sharing the café.
I use this time to sneak a glance at the boy who I used to be so close to. It saddens me to think that we spend the holiday together, and now it's like we've never met before. He looks better than he did a couple of weeks ago, when I saw him the day after our argument. His hair looks glossy and smooth, dishevelled but in an attractive way, the dark ebony colour complimenting his black top. His face is no longer pale and peaky, the bags under his eyes barely visible.
Stupidly, I stare at him for too long, and he looks up, catching my eye as I internally slap myself. With a small squeak, I look down again, feeling my cheeks burn under his gaze.
What I don't expect, is for him to chuckle softly. "You're allowed to look at me, Viola."
There it is.
Viola.
I'd almost forgotten that was my name, considering I've only talked to people who know me as Mia for the past few weeks. And it feels good. It feels good to hear that because it's a small reminder that I'm still the same person that I used to be, even if it doesn't seem like that anymore.
