Chapter 8
“Yo!”
Tab took a deep breath, tried and failed to keep his cheeks the normal colour instead of some bastard child of an illicit love affair between red and purple behind poor pink’s back, and looked up from his sketchpad.
“Hi Nick.”
Nick rolled his eyes—the eyes that had been dogging Tab ever since the broken nose—and rasped, “The enthusiasm. Rein it in, mate. Got the attendance list?”
Tab pointed a finger at the stack of paper waiting for the printer. “Uncle Eddie hasn’t written a new one,” he said. “Um, you’ll have to start one fresh. Until the last gradings are done. Y’know.”
Nick eyed him with narrowed green-gold-brown-trademarkedbeautifulcolour slits, and Tab flushed a little harder. “Uh-huh,” Nick said, and settled leaning against the counter, arms folded. “You drawin
