Me-Before-You-by-Jojo-Moyes

‘Interesting choice of footwear,’ Will said.
They were emerald green. I had found them in a charity shop. Patrick said
they made me look like a leprechaun drag queen.
‘You know, you don’t dress like someone from round here. I quite look
forward to seeing what insane combination you’re going to turn up in next.’
‘So how should “someone from round here” dress?’
He steered a little to the left to avoid a bit of branch on the path. ‘Fleece. Or, if
you’re my mother’s set, something from Jaeger or Whistles.’ He looked at me.
‘So where did you pick up your exotic tastes? Where else have you lived?’
‘I haven’t.’
‘What, you’ve only ever lived here? Where have you worked?’
‘Only here.’ I turned and looked at him, crossing my arms over my chest
defensively. ‘So? What’s so weird about that?’
‘It’s such a small town. So limiting. And it’s all about the castle.’ We paused
on the path and stared at it, rising up in the distance on its weird, dome-like hill,
as perfect as if it had been drawn by a child. ‘I always think this is the kind of
place that people come back to. When they’ve got tired of everything else. Or
when they don’t have enough imagination to go anywhere else.’
‘Thanks.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with it per se. But … Christ. It’s not exactly dynamic,
is it? Not exactly full of ideas or interesting people or opportunities. Round here
they think it’s subversive if the tourist shop starts selling place mats with a
different view of the miniature railway.’
I couldn’t help but laugh. There had been an article in the local newspaper the
previous week on exactly that topic.
‘You’re twenty-six years old, Clark. You should be out there, claiming the
world as your own, getting in trouble in bars, showing off your strange wardrobe
to dodgy men … ’
‘I’m happy here,’ I said.
‘Well, you shouldn’t be.’
‘You like telling people what they should be doing, don’t you?’
‘Only when I know I’m right,’ he said. ‘Can you adjust my drink? I can’t quite
reach it.’