Just friends II.

We spent the next couple of hours wandering around the centre. Rebecca bought more than I'd expected, and I ended up carrying two bags.

"You said you'd carry one."

"I've got two."

"Because you're stronger."

"That's not how this works."

"It is today."

She bumped her shoulder against mine. I smiled. We were walking past the entertainment area when Rebecca suddenly stopped.

"Oh!"

I followed her gaze. A photobooth. "No."

"Yes."

"Absolutely not."

"Why?"

"Because."

"That's not a reason."

"I don't need a reason."

She grabbed my wrist. "Come on."

"Rebecca."

"Just four pictures."

"That's how they get you."

She laughed and pulled me inside. The booth was even smaller than it looked. We squeezed onto the bench. Rebecca fed a note into the machine and pressed the button to start. The countdown started.

"Smile!"

The flash went off just as I was still trying to work out what expression I was supposed to make. The second countdown started.

Rebecca leaned closer. "Put your arm around me."

"What?"

"Just do it."

I hesitated.

She rolled her eyes. "You're so awkward." She put her arm around me herself.

Flash.

The third picture caught both of us laughing. The fourth was probably the worst. Or the best. Rebecca had turned towards me just before the flash and was looking at me instead of the camera.

When the strip came out, she grabbed it immediately. "Oh, my God."

"What?"

"Look at us." She held it between us. "We look cute."

I laughed. "We look ridiculous."

"No, we don't."

She pointed to the second picture. "Look at that one."

"It's blurry."

"We're cute."

"Rebecca..."

"We are." She smiled at the picture again. "We look like a couple."

I stopped smiling.

She looked up at me. Then she laughed. "I'm kidding."

"Right."

"Mostly."

"What does that mean?"

She didn't answer. Instead, she tore the strip carefully along the perforation. "There."

She handed me one copy.

"You keep it."

I looked down at it. "You want me to keep this?"

"Obviously."

"What are you doing with yours?"

"I'm putting it in my phone case." She slid her copy behind the clear case on the back of her phone. "There." She held it up. "Now I can look at us whenever I want."

I shook my head.

"You're weird."

"You love me."

The words came out so naturally that neither of us reacted for a second.

Then she smiled. “Best friends," she quickly added.

I smiled back. "Best friends."

But for the rest of the afternoon, I couldn't quite stop thinking about that photograph.

Rebecca had been acting strangely all day. The changing room, the way she'd insisted we pose together, the comment about looking like a couple. Even the way she'd put the picture in her phone case, as though it was something she wanted to keep close. Maybe it was just Rebecca being Rebecca. She'd always been naturally affectionate with me, and I'd spent years learning not to mistake that for anything more. Still, something about today felt different. I just couldn't work out what.

---

After another hour of shopping, even Rebecca seemed to be running out of shops to drag me into. My feet were beginning to ache, my shoulders were sore from carrying her bags, and the last thing I wanted to do was look at another rack of clothes. Fortunately, Rebecca had finally reached the point where she was willing to consider something other than shopping.

"I'm starving," she announced as we passed another shop window.

I glanced at her. "You said that half an hour ago."

"Yes, and I'm even hungrier now."

"Funny how that works."

She bumped her shoulder against mine, then turned towards the escalators leading down to the food court. I followed, the shopping bags rustling against my legs as we made our way through the busy centre. The food court was packed. It was the middle of the afternoon, but that didn't seem to have stopped everyone else from deciding they needed something to eat. The air was thick with the smell of fried food, coffee, and something sweet from the bakery near the entrance. Every table seemed to be occupied, and the noise of conversations blended with the clatter of trays and the occasional announcement echoing through the shopping centre.

Rebecca scanned the room, then pointed towards a small table near the windows. Two people were just leaving, gathering their rubbish and pushing their chairs back. "There," she said. "Go and grab that before someone else does."

I made my way over and claimed the table, dumping the shopping bags beside my chair. Rebecca leaned over the back of it.

"You sit here. I'll get drinks."

"I can come."

"No. I've got it."

"You sure?"

She gave me an impatient little smile. "Yes. Just tell me what you want."

"Whatever you're having."

"That's not helpful."

"Water?"

She wrinkled her nose. "You're no fun."

"Then surprise me."

"Fine. Don't complain when I get you something horrible."

"I'll try to cope."

She laughed and headed towards the counters, weaving through the tables with her handbag tucked beneath her arm.

I watched her go for a moment before pulling out my phone. I had a couple of messages from Michael and one from Lyndsay, neither of which seemed particularly urgent. I started replying to Michael, who was apparently having an argument with someone about whether pineapple belonged on pizza, when a sudden burst of shouting made me look up.

At first, I couldn't make out what was happening. A few people near the entrance had turned towards the main walkway, and someone was calling for a security guard. Then a man came sprinting into the food court, moving so quickly that people had to snatch their trays and bags out of his way.

"Hey! Stop!" A security guard was close behind him.

The man glanced over his shoulder, apparently more concerned with the person chasing him than with where he was going. He swerved around a family standing beside a table, clipped the edge of a chair, and stumbled.

I had just enough time to register that he was heading straight for me. "Whoa!"

He slammed into my shoulder. The impact knocked me sideways. My foot caught against the leg of the table, and I stumbled backwards, trying to catch myself. My hand struck the tabletop, but it wasn't enough to stop me. The side of my face hit the hard edge of something; I wasn't entirely sure what, and then I was on the floor. For a second, all I could hear was a high-pitched ringing in my ears. The man kept running. The security guard thundered past, shouting after him, and the commotion moved further into the shopping centre.

I stayed where I was, one hand braced against the floor, trying to work out what had just happened. "What the hell..."

My face throbbed. I brought a hand to my mouth and felt something wet against my fingers. When I pulled it away, there was blood on them. "Oh, brilliant."

A woman standing nearby made a sympathetic noise.

The blood was still coming from my lip. I could feel it trickling down towards my chin. I needed a tissue. I looked around, trying to spot Rebecca among the people gathered near the counters.

Instead, I saw Trish. She was standing on the other side of the food court, a short distance from the walkway where the man and security guard had disappeared. She had a drink in one hand and her phone in the other, but she wasn't looking at either of them. She was staring straight at me. Our eyes met. For a moment, she looked genuinely shocked. Her mouth parted slightly, and she took an instinctive step forward. I felt an unexpected rush of relief. Whatever had been going on between us lately, at least she still cared enough to check that I was okay.

She started towards me. Then she stopped. It was only a few feet, but I watched her hesitate as though she'd suddenly remembered something. Her gaze shifted past me, towards the counters where Rebecca had gone. Then she looked back at me. After another moment, she turned away. She walked towards the exit without looking back. I stood there, staring after her, the taste of blood in my mouth and a dull ache spreading across my cheek. What the hell was that about?

I barely had time to think about it before Rebecca came hurrying towards me, two drinks balanced in her hands. She'd clearly heard the commotion on her way back, because her eyes were already searching my face. "What happened?"

I turned towards her. "I'm fine."

She stopped dead. Her gaze went straight to my mouth. "You're bleeding!"

"It's my lip."

"Oh my God, what happened to your face?"

"Some bloke came running through here. Security was chasing him. He knocked me over."

Rebecca put the drinks down on the table so quickly that one of them sloshed over the rim. "Are you serious?"

"Unfortunately."

"Did you hit your head?"

"A little, I think."

Her face changed. The surprise gave way to alarm, and she immediately reached for my arm. "Sit down."

"Rebecca, I'm…"

"Sit down." There was something in her voice that made me stop arguing. I lowered myself into the chair, and she pulled another one around so she could sit directly in front of me.

"Let me see."

"It's not that bad."

She took my chin gently between her fingers and turned my face towards the light coming through the windows. I tried not to wince as she examined the cut.

Her expression tightened. "Oh, that looks painful."

"It's a split lip. I've had worse."

"When?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. Probably."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only one I've got."

She gave me a look that suggested she wasn't impressed, then rummaged through her handbag. A moment later, she produced a small packet of tissues and pulled one free. "Here. Hold this against it."

I took the tissue and pressed it to my lip. "Thanks."

"Does your head hurt?"

"Not really."

"Not really, or no?"

"Just a bit."

She frowned. "Are you dizzy?"

"No."

"Do you feel sick?"

"No."

"Can you see properly?"

"Yes."

"Any headache?"

"Just you."

She slapped my hand like a naughty child before she could stop herself. “Sorry!” she said with a deeply remorseful look. She leaned closer and carefully dabbed at the blood around my mouth. I flinched when she touched the cut. "Sorry," she murmured, softer this time. Her fingers paused against my cheek. For a moment, she looked at me with an intensity that made me uncomfortable, as though the sight of me hurt had frightened her more than she wanted to admit.

Then she pulled back. "I don't like this."

"Neither do I. It's not exactly how I planned to spend lunch."

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

She glanced at the crowd around us, then back at my face. "I think you should get checked out."

"I'm fine, Rebecca. I don't have a concussion." It was my turn to be the stubborn one, and thankfully Rebecca was quick to recognise it.

She continued looking at me with that same intense stare, and then she sighed. “Alright, but I’m taking you home right now, and I’m going to watch over you the rest of today.” She picked up one of the drinks and pushed it towards me. "Here. Drink something."

I took a cautious sip. My lip stung, and I pulled a face.

"Without injuring yourself even more," she said immediately.

She sat back, folding her arms. Her eyes kept returning to the cut on my lip. I looked down at the tissue in my hand. The bleeding seemed to be slowing, although the whole side of my face was starting to ache.

"Honestly, I'm okay."

Rebecca shook her head. "You're still not going anywhere on your own."

She said it so firmly that I realised there wasn't much point in arguing. I leaned back in my chair and let out a long breath. My afternoon had gone from shopping bags and bad fashion advice to being bowled over by a shoplifter, and now Rebecca had appointed herself my personal nurse.

I glanced once more towards the exit where Trish had disappeared. Whatever had made her walk away, I couldn't work it out. And, judging by the way Rebecca was watching me, I wasn't going to get much time to myself to think about it.