Dr Sarah has said I need to increase my interactions with strangers. It’s not enough just to go to a restaurant and hide behind a menu and let other people order for me. (How did she guess?) I need to talk confidently to unfamiliar people. This is my homework. So Linus and I are sitting in Starbucks and he’s choosing someone random for me to go and talk to.

We did all kinds of role-play in hospital, which was supposed to achieve the same aim. But role-play is role-play. You feel so stupid. OMG, it was embarrassing, pretending to have a ‘confrontation’ with some skinny boy who you knew would practically go into a panic attack if you even looked at him. And all the counsellors having to feed us lines when we dried up, and saying, ‘Look at your body language, Audrey.’

Anyway. So role-play totally sucks, but this is kind of fun. Because I’m going to do one and then Linus is going to do one. It’s like dares.

‘OK, that guy.’ Linus points to a man on his own at a corner table, tapping away at a laptop. He’s in his twenties with a goatee and a grey T-shirt and one of those cool leather man-bags that Frank despises. ‘Go up to that guy and ask him if he has Wi-Fi.’

I feel a bubble of panic, which I try to swallow down. The man looks absorbed in his work. He doesn’t look like he wants to be interrupted.

‘He looks really busy,’ I prevaricate. ‘What about someone else? What about that old lady?’ There’s a sweet-looking grey-haired woman sitting at the next table, who has already smiled in our direction.

‘Too easy.’ Linus is adamant. ‘You won’t need to say a word, she’ll just jabber at you. Go up to that guy and ask about the Wi-Fi. I’ll wait here.’

Everything in my body is telling me not to go, but Linus is sitting there looking at me, so I force my leg muscles to operate. Somehow I’m walking across the coffee shop and now I’m standing right in front of the man, but he hasn’t looked at me. He’s just tapping and frowning.

‘Um, hi?’ I manage.

Tap-tap-tap-frown.

‘Hi?’ I try again.

Tap-tap-tap-frown.

He hasn’t even looked up.

I so want to back away. But Linus is watching. I have to see this through.

‘Excuse me?’ My voice bursts out so loudly I almost jump in fright, and finally the man lifts his head. ‘I was wondering if you have Wi-Fi?’

‘What?’ He scowls.

‘Wi-Fi? Do you have Wi-Fi here?’

‘Jesus. I’m trying to work.’

‘Right. Sorry. I was just wondering—’

‘About the Wi-Fi. Are you blind? Can you read, at all?’ He points to a notice in the corner of the coffee shop, which is all about the Starbucks Wi-Fi code. Then he focuses on my dark glasses. ‘Are you blind? Or just subnormal?’

‘I’m not blind,’ I say, my voice trembling. ‘I was just asking. Sorry to bother you.’

‘Fucking moron,’ he mutters as he starts tapping again.

Tears are welling in my eyes and as I back away, my legs are wobbly. But my chin is high. I’m determined I’m not going to dissolve. As I get back to the table, I force a kind of rictus grin onto my face.

‘I did it!’

‘What did he say?’ demands Linus.

‘He called me a fucking moron. And blind and subnormal. Apart from that, you know, he was really charming.’

The tears in my eyes are edging down my cheeks by now, and Linus stares at them in alarm.

‘Audrey!’

‘No, I’m fine,’ I say fiercely. ‘I’m fine.’

‘Wanker.’ Linus is glaring balefully at the man in the grey T-shirt. ‘If he doesn’t want to be disturbed, he shouldn’t come and sit in a public place. You realize how much he’s saving on rent? He buys one coffee and sits there for an hour and then he expects the whole world to tiptoe around him. If he wants an office he should pay for an office. Fucker.’

‘Anyway, I did it.’ I speak brightly. ‘Your turn now.’

‘I’m speaking to the same guy.’ Linus gets to his feet. ‘He doesn’t get away with being such a prick.’

‘What are you going to say?’ I ask in panic. A choking dread is filling my chest, and I don’t even know what I’m scared of. I just don’t want Linus to go over there. I want to leave. ‘Sit down,’ I beg him. ‘Let’s stop the game.’

‘The game hasn’t finished.’ Linus winks at me and heads over to the corner table, coffee in hand. ‘Hi!’ he says to the man in a childish voice which is so loud that half the coffee shop looks round. ‘That’s an Apple Mac, isn’t it?’

The man looks up as though in disbelief at being interrupted again. ‘Yes,’ he says curtly.

‘Could you tell me the advantages of an Apple Mac over other brands of computer?’ says Linus. ‘Because I want to buy a computer. Is your one really good? I bet it is.’ He sits down opposite the man. ‘Can I have a go?’

‘Look, I’m busy,’ the man snaps. ‘Could you sit somewhere else?’

‘Are you working here?’

There’s silence as the man continues tapping and Linus leans forward. ‘Are you working?’ he repeats in a foghorn voice.

‘Yes!’ The man glowers at him. ‘I’m working.’

‘My dad works in an office,’ says Linus artlessly. ‘Don’t you have an office? What do you do? Could I be like your shadow? Will you come and give a talk to our school? Oh look, your cup’s empty. Are you going to buy another coffee? Was that a cappuccino? I like flat whites. But why are they called flat whites? Do you know? Can you look it up for me?’

‘Listen.’ The man slams his laptop shut. ‘Kid. I’m working. Could you please find another table?’

‘But this is Starbucks,’ says Linus in tones of surprise. ‘You can sit anywhere. You’re allowed.’ He flags down a female barista who’s collecting empty cups nearby. ‘Excuse me, can I sit anywhere? Is that how Starbucks works?’

‘Of course,’ says the barista, and smiles at him. ‘Anywhere you like.’

‘Did you hear that? Anywhere I like. And I’ve got a cup of coffee, but you haven’t,’ Linus points out to the man. ‘You’ve finished yours. Hey, wait.’ He gives the empty cup to the barista. ‘See?’ he says to the man. ‘You’re all done. You should either buy a cup of coffee or go.’

‘Jesus!’ Looking like he wants to explode, the man shoves his laptop into his man-bag and gets to his feet. ‘Fucking kids,’ he mutters to himself. ‘Unbelievable.’

‘Bye then,’ says Linus innocently. ‘Have fun being a wanker.’

For an instant I think the man might hit him round the head – but of course he doesn’t. He just heads out of the coffee shop looking savage. Linus gets up and slides back into the seat opposite me, his face all creased up into his orange-segment smile.

‘Oh my God.’ I exhale. ‘I can’t believe you did that.’

‘Next time, you do it.’

‘I couldn’t!’

‘You could. It’s fun.’ Linus rubs his hands together. ‘Bring it on.’

‘OK, give me another one,’ I say, inspired. ‘Give me another dare.’

‘Ask this barista if they serve mint muffins. Go.’ He flags her down, and she comes over with a smile. I haven’t even got time to think about whether I’m nervous or not.

‘Excuse me, do you serve mint muffins?’ I say, adopting Linus’s innocent, childlike tones. Somehow, channelling Linus is giving me strength. I’m not me, I’m not Audrey, I’m a character.

‘Ah, no.’ She shakes her head. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘But I saw them on the website,’ I say. ‘I’m sure I saw them. Mint muffins with a chocolate centre? With, like, sprinkles?’

‘And Polo mints on top,’ chimes in Linus seriously, and I nearly crease up with laughter.

‘No.’ The barista looks puzzled. ‘I never heard of them.’

‘Oh well,’ I say politely. ‘Thank you anyway.’ As she walks off, I grin at Linus, feeling a bit heady. ‘I did it!’

‘You can talk to anyone.’ He nods. ‘Next, why don’t you hire a soap box and make a speech?’

‘Great idea!’ I say. ‘Let’s invite, like, a thousand people.’

‘So the graph is going upwards. Miss Audrey is heading for the stars.’ Linus knows about the jagged/not-jagged graph, because I told him about it. I drew it out and everything.

‘Definitely.’ I clink my coffee cup against his. ‘Miss Audrey is heading for the stars.’

Загрузка...