‘But why don’t you want to see the fair? It will only be here for a few more days and we haven’t seen a bloody thing.’ Mikey kicked at a discarded shoe sitting in the middle of the road. ‘Thought you’d wanna see your poncy Koly-whaddever.’
She ignored the reminder and guessed what Mikey was avoiding—trying to dance at the top of that tree again, if I’m not mistaken. More to the point, avoiding the failure … If Mikey didn’t want to risk failure, I won’t be pointing a finger. And Kolyani is the last person I want to see. Past and future were so tangled she could see no way to unravel or avoid any of it.
They cut through a grove of fruit trees, shuffling their feet through a layer of white blossoms. Some of the trees had already formed fruit, clusters of tiny green buds—apples, she thought.
