No Alarms Read Free Page A

tradition.’
    ‘So,’ Sharon looked for a way of asking. ‘How do you afford all this then?’
    ‘Think I stole it?’ But he didn’t look upset. More he looked like he’d wanted her to ask all along.
    ‘Didn’t say that.’
    ‘Anything here, I can show you the receipt. Not that stupid.’
    ‘Right. So where do you get your money?’
    ‘Just because you’re unemployed,’ Justin winked, ‘doesn’t mean you can’t have an income. Come on, this is nothing. Have a look at the lounge.’
    Television and video, surround sound, component stereo, a big couch that made the room look small, and even a pool table squashed into one corner, so you’d never get round to play half your shots.
    ‘What do you think?’ Justin asked.
    ‘It’s great.’ More than great. This was it. This was the way she wanted to be. Give her this and she’d be happy, never ask for another thing. Promise.
    ‘Come on, tell me. Where do you guys get your money from?’
    ‘It’s not important.’ He waved his hand, like there were a thousand ways of earning that sort of cash. ‘Here, supplies are in my room.’
    He kept his stash in a cute little antique tin on his desk next to the computer printer. Apart from the computer though this room was bare. Just a little single bed, carefully made, a set of drawers and a black and white poster on the wall of some guy Sharon didn’t recognise. No clothes hanging about like there were at Sharon’s, no overflowing rubbish bins or collection of things she couldn’t quite throw away. Looking around Sharon decided this wasn’t a bedroom at all. No, if hers was a bedroom, there needed to be a different word for this.
    • • •
    She’d never seen a person take quite so long to roll a joint. He played with each strand like the whole thing was going to be judged in a competition.
    ‘Just do it,’ Sharon said.
    ‘Anything less than perfect’s a waste,’ Justin replied, holding up the finished product for her inspection. ‘Look at that.’
    ‘Still just going to be smoked though.’ Sharon said.
    ‘Not arguing, just saying look and remember. You might never see a better joint.’
    His zippo appeared suddenly, almost without him moving, and it was lit. He moved so easily nothing he did ever looked try-hard. He handed it to her and Sharon felt like she was being watched, judged too, even though he turned hisback and started doing something with his computer. She knew she slobbered, always had, couldn’t help it. He’d say something and she’d be shamed.
    He didn’t though, just took another drag and passed it back and when it was finished he rolled another, not going any faster. They talked a while, about things they both knew, school and parties and people they hated. Justin showed her a game on the computer he said worked best when you were stoned and although it was alright Sharon liked it better when they went back to talking. Loose talking, where you quickly lose sight of the details, like looking into a face that doesn’t have any features. Still a face though, still talking. The longer she stayed there the more Sharon knew this was a place she wanted to be. If there was a way of never leaving she would take it. This was the life she’d always meant to be living, like a misplaced grocery item accidentally taken home in the wrong trolley, and all this time no one had been bothered enough to take her back.
    ‘Hey Justin,’ Sharon said.
    ‘Yeah?’
    ‘Tell me where you get your money from.’
    ‘Nah, can’t.’ He shook his head but she didn’t believe him. How come he’d brought her here then? He must have known what would happen.
    ‘Yes you can.’
    ‘Simon’d kill me.’
    ‘I wouldn’t tell him.’
    ‘Maybe not.’ He looked at her, like he was weighing up the risk.
    ‘Trust me man.’
    He didn’t say anything, just turned back to the computerand flicked through some screens.
    ‘Nah, come on. I’m sick of that computer shit. Talk to me.’
    ‘Here,’ he said, not