Darker London

Stephie had said to Flynn yesterday: It’s time and taken him flying. Today, she was taking a really long, agonised shower and trying to tell herself it’s time again, except this time it was about Jinx.

Because he and Josie were... something, and this was a... something that Stephie had to figure out.

She’d texted Josie before her shower with a how you doing, up for a visit? and got back an almost immediate crap but no. Which was kind of a relief. Stephie would have gone and seen her if Josie had been up for it, but it might have ended in shouting. There was still a large part of Stephie that was firmly stuck on the how dare you stage of being attacked by her best friend.

( ... )

There were reasons why Daria had never read a mystery novel where the main character was eight months pregnant with twins. She thought this, bitterly, as she tried to heave herself toward Lily's hospital and figure out exactly what had happened. There was a reason women got downgraded to backup characters when they got this big.

Daria had been real fucking tempted to downgrade herself and stay in bed. Her hips ached so bad today, and the Braxton Hicks contractions kept coming (making her panic, every time, but never turning into actual labour.) She’d slept about three hours before Phoebe had wandered into her room, woke her up to tell her she’d thrown up, but it was okay it was in the toilet and she felt better now so Mummy could go back to sleep.

( ... )