Arcadia by James Treadwell Page A

did.”
    Or he could pretend to faint and wait till she ran away to get help. Pretend to knock himself out.
    â€œBut I do know how to do it. Look.”
    â€œGo away!”
    â€œNo one’s looking. I want you to.”
    â€œI don’t want to kiss you.”
    â€œGo on.”
    â€œI’d rather kiss a goat.”
    â€œEurgh!”
    â€œI’d rather kiss Doreen. I’d rather kiss Missus Grouse.”
    â€œYou’re disgusting!”
    â€œI’d rather kiss one of Them.”
    That, finally, shuts her up. Maybe he said it a bit too fiercely. Maybe he actually meant it. Whatever, her mouth hangs open and she stares at him with an exaggerated shocked face.
    â€œThat’s sick,” she says. (It’s what Ol used to say.)
    He turns away, smarting with a kind of bitter triumph. “Yeah. Well. It’s true.”
    â€œI’m telling your mum you said that.”
    â€œI don’t care.”
    â€œI bet They taste all slimy. Eurgh.”
    â€œYou’ve never seen Them,” he mutters, furious at her stupidity.
    â€œYeah, well, neither have you.”
    â€œI might have.” There’s something irresistible about shocking her. If he does it enough times maybe she’ll finally be quiet, or even run away.
    â€œYou never!”
    â€œYou don’t know.”
    â€œYou can’t. Boys aren’t allowed.”
    â€œWho says?”
    â€œHave you?” She says it quietly, sort of breathlessly. “Have you really?”
    â€œI’d never tell you, would I?”
    â€œPlease.”
    â€œShut up.”
    â€œPlease, Rory. I won’t tell. Have you really?”
    She’s horrified, but she’s also thrilled. He’s made a mistake. He should have known what she’s like whenever she suspects anyone’s got a secret. He goes back to ignoring her completely. He should have stuck to that all along. She begs and cajoles and threatens and then starts whining, but he still refuses to answer, so she gets cross.
    â€œYou’re such a liar. Liar liar. I know you’re lying anyway. I know you never ’cos you can’t, you’d be dead if you did. I know, They’ve got a special hole They suck boys into the sea with, soon as you look at them. You just think you’re being clever.”
    He’s so angry it’s like a film in front of his eyes. Pink’s a whining baby and he hates the way her voice sounds like it’s coming out of her nose. When She talks it’s water humming. Even the words She uses are different from Pink’s, like it’s not even the same language. She never whines.
    â€œAnyway I won’t marry you, I’m going to be queen all by myself, and when I’m queen I’m going to order all the boats out with big nets and catch all of Them and kill Them. And you can’t be king because you have to stay inside like Ol was supposed to. I won’t even let you go look at Them when they’re all dead. You big stupid liar liar.”
    Rory’s mouth goes without him meaning it to. “At least They’re not stupid. And They make you look like a pig, so shut! Up! Now!”
    â€œThey’re evil!”
    He hates the way these ridiculous arguments make everything go cloudy. He forces himself to turn away and just breathe. That’s when he notices that she’s stopped yelling.
    â€œYou did see Them,” she says. “Didn’t you.”
    â€œNone of your business,” he says.
    She puts her bags down—there’s almost nothing in them anyway—and squelches over to stand right in front of him. “I swear, Rory. I swear I won’t tell anyone. On my mother’s life. On the Bible.”
    He moves away, raking with his fingers. It’s slow work. Everything’s slow work.
    â€œWhen did you see Them? You really did. I know you did.”
    â€œHaven’t you got work to do?”
    â€œPlease, Rory.”
    He gives her a