Chapter 5 FaceTime

LINA'S POV

Edinburgh was cold. Not the dramatic movie kind of cold that looked beautiful in pictures — the actual kind. The kind that walked through your jacket like it wasn't there and reminded you immediately that you were not at home.

Lina stood in the middle of her lodge room with her suitcase still zipped and took it in. Small. But not sad small — considered small. Baby pink walls, white trimmings, everything deliberate.

A big wardrobe against the wall, mostly white with pink detailing. A vanity with a wide mirror that caught the last of the evening light. Her laptop already on the desk, pink headset resting beside it like it had been waiting for her. The bathroom door was open. White tiles, a proper shower, a small tub that she was absolutely using before the week was out. And right at the bathroom entrance — a thick, fluffy mat. Soft enough to make you stop walking for a second. She pressed her foot into it. Nodded once. Okay, she thought. I can live here.

She unzipped her suitcase, started putting things away slowly, hanging dresses, arranging shoes, setting her skincare on the vanity in the order she always used them. It took an hour. When she was done she sat on the edge of the bed, looked around the room and felt something settle in her chest. It was hers now. She reached for her laptop, put her headset on and opened FaceTime. It rang twice. Ariya's face filled the screen — hair everywhere, lying upside down on her bed for no clear reason, eating something.

"You're alive," Ariya said, not even sitting up. "I'm alive," Lina confirmed. "How's Scotland."

"Cold."

Ariya pointed. "I told you." "You did not tell me." "I said don't trust the weather." "That is not the same as telling me it would be this cold Ariya it is literally assault—" Ariya burst out laughing, finally rolling over to hold the phone properly. "Okay but the room though. Show me the room." I flipped the camera.

"Oh." Ariya went quiet for a second. Then — "Okay the room is actually giving. The pink is very you." "I know." "But it's small." "It's cosy." "It's small Lina." "Cosy—" "You can touch both walls if you stretch." "I cannot—" flipping the camera back to me "It is a perfectly sized room for one person." "One very small person," Ariya said, smirking. "Have you made friends yet?" "I landed six hours ago."

"So no."

"So no."

"Embarrassing." Ariya shook her head solemnly. "Truly embarrassing. I would have had three friends and a nemesis by now." "You would have started a conflict by now," I corrected. "Same thing." I cracked with laughter It felt good like I can overcome the hardship of Edinburgh that I just entered "I got your letter by the way," Lina said, quieter now. Ariya looked at her through the screen. "And?"

"And I cried on the plane like an idiot." "Good," Ariya said simply.

After a moment of silence— "Me too.

A little. In the cab." "A little?" "Moderately." "Ariya—" "I was fine by the time I got home." I shook my head I know Ariya she will never admit, stubborn girl. "Sure you were." We looked at each other through the screen for a moment — miles and a time zone between them, everything exactly the same. "Okay I need to sleep," I told her. "It's late here." "It's literally 9pm." "It's cold and I'm tired and Scotland takes a lot out of you." "You've been here six hours—" "Goodnight Ariya." "Don't let the Edinburgh cold take you—" "Goodnight." Ariya was still talking when i ended the call. I set the laptop aside, lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Small room, pink and cold I can do this, I think? But anyways time to sleep She pulled the duvet up, closed her eyes and let Edinburgh be quiet around her.

ARIYA POV

The two weeks before Weston were the quietest of my life. Not bad quiet just very calm. The house felt different without the countdown of exams or the noise of planning. Even my dad moved through it softer than usual, like he knew something was ending and didn't want to rush it. I spent most of it doing nothing useful. Reorganising my room. Watching things I'd already seen. Eating my dad's food like I was trying to memorise the taste of it. Some mornings I'd come downstairs and he'd already have breakfast waiting — not because I asked, just because he did and he made it look as if it was just a coincident. We didn't talk much during those mornings. We just sat together with the radio on low and ate and let it be enough. Lina and I texted every day. Sometimes long voice notes, sometimes just a meme and nothing else. She was settling in, slowly — complaining about the cold every other day, sending me pictures of her perfectly arranged pink room like I hadn't already seen it on FaceTime. I sent her a picture of my suitcase on the last night.

Lina: You're really going. Ariya: I'm really going. Lina: Don't be annoying to your roommate on the first day. Ariya: I make no promises.

Lina: 🙄❤️ I put my phone down and looked around my room one last time. The posters still on the wall. The desk still slightly messy. Everything exactly where I had always left it. I zipped my suitcase. My dad was up before me. He was standing in the kitchen when I came downstairs, back to me, doing something at the counter. He turned when he heard me and looked at my suitcase, then at my face, then back at the counter. "Sit," he said. "Eat first." I sat. He put a plate in front of me — eggs, toast, fruit, the full thing — and sat across from me with his coffee and his newspaper that he wasn't reading. We ate in the quiet that had become our language these past two weeks. When I was done I pushed the plate aside and looked at him. "Dad." "I know," he said, before I could say anything else. He stood up, came around the table and put both hands on my shoulders, looking at me the way he had the morning of the admission — like he was seeing something new and trying to hold it still long enough to remember it. "Keep your hair down," he said quietly. "I know Dad." "And don't show—" "I know," I said softly. "I know." He pulled me in. One arm, firm, the way he always hugged — like he meant it but didn't want to make a thing of it. "Call me when you get there," he said into my hair. "First thing," I promised. He let go. Stepped back. Picked his newspaper up. I grabbed my suitcase and walked to the door. "Ariya." I turned. He was looking at the newspaper. Not at me. "I'm proud of you," he said simply. I smiled at the back of his head. "I know old man." Then I walked out into the morning.