“Scarlet,” he said, answering his phone, and sighing as he made his way up the black stairs.
“Oh, good. You picked up this time,” she deadpanned; Ash could imagine the scowl on her face as he walked into his room. “Let’s go out.”
“I can’t,” he lied, slumping onto his bed and staring at the ceiling. “I’m busy. I must work on the group project; I should be done next week.”
“There’s no point if it’s next week; I’ll see you at uni. I need pictures of us on break together.”
“That sounds more like a you problem than a me problem if I am sincere here.”
She was quiet for a few seconds. “I’ll make it a you problem when Alex turns up at your doorstep all bloody and beaten again. Then you can explain to your brother why his best friend’s injuries are all your fault.”
He scowled as he sat up. “Y
