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He spent much more of his time in the bars and clubs of the city, or staying at the halls of friends – particularly the younger women new to the city on his course. Cities were nothing new to him, having grown up with his f****y in Brighton. It was there that Amy was just finishing her college course as the summer began. As soon as he walked through the door Amy came running from the kitchen, leaping at him like an eager puppy as she jumped up, hugging him, and placing a firm kiss on his cheek. ‘You’re home… at last,’ she cried, thrilled to see her b*****r again. ‘Looks like it, s*s,’ replied Matt, equally keen to be back in the heart of the f****y. For him, f****y had always meant Amy above all else. They’d grown up together, cared for more by au pairs and stay-in nannies than by either of their parents. For a while, the two shared their stories, but as the evening drew in, Matt prepared for his first night’s rest back at home. Amy followed him upstairs, and they parted on the. “Schoolwork, not us. Us is something else.”“OK.” I frowned. “Hard, or just behind?”“Behind.” She scratched her head. “I’m not like Max. I can’t cut a couple hours out of every day for this shit.”“Then don’t be like Max.” I shrugged. “Be like Sam.”“How’s that supposed to help?” she worried. I smirked. That had been the advice my dad had given me when I was in college. I was angry about being compared to my brother at the time. That advice? Didn’t help with school. I hadn’t got it then; I hadn’t got it until now.“If it doesn’t help, then you gotta make being Sam something that makes Sam’s life better,” I told her.“Goddammit.” She frowned. Max came in and brought the water pitcher to her desk. She arranged the flowers in it. I poked Sam.“What?” she asked. She pouted when I grinned at her.“What kind of flowers should I get you?”“Haagen-Dazs,” she said. I grinned and hugged her shoulders. I rubbed her hair as I stood up.“Good luck with the work. Kick its ass,” I told her. She gave me a.
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