Page 32 of Save Me

“The distinctions you’re making aren’t what we’re dealing with here,” James replies dryly. “For example, if you have two job offers where one pays better but the other would make you happier, then the rational decision is to take the job where you earn more.”

“If your idea of rationality is based entirely on money, which wouldn’t surprise me, then yes.” My body is flooded with energy, and it feels to me as though nobody but James and me exists any longer in this room.

Now he raises an eyebrow. “One: You know nothing about me. Two, the rational action is to take the better-paid job.”

“Why is that, if I may ask?”

He looks me straight in the eyes. “Because in this world, nobody is interested in you unless you have money.”

His words make me vividly aware of the worn soles on my shoes and my holey backpack. Rage flames up inside me, flickering and racing. “That shows who you were brought up by.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asks, his voice dangerously calm.

I shrug my shoulders. “If it’s drummed into you from when you’re little that nobody will be interested in you if you don’t havemoney, then obviously, you’re going to act according to an idea of rationality where nothing else matters. And that’s what actually makes you poor.”

A muscle in his jaw starts to twitch. “You’d better just stop there, Ruby.”

“At Oxford, you won’t just be able to tell anyone what to say. Maybe you should get used to either people hitting back or being kind of lonely. But even then, you shouldn’t have too many problems because hey, you’ll still be rich, and so the world will be interested in you.”

James flinches like I slapped his face. You could hear a pin drop in the room. The only sound is my own thumping heartbeat and the thunderous roaring in my ears. The next second, he stands up so abruptly that his chair tips over and crashes to the floor. I hold my breath as he strides out of the room and slams the door behind him.

Suddenly, I’m aware of my surroundings again. James’s friends are blinking in confusion, as if asking themselves what the hell just happened. Lydia’s face is just a picture of incredible shock. A shiver runs down my spine. I’m slowly coming down from the adrenaline spike and realizing what I just said.

So much for staying invisible. Instead of having a professional debate, I got personal because James made me angry. He’s right. I really don’t know him. And I had no right to accuse him of stuff like that just because he acts like a total jerk. That makes me no better than him.

What on earth got into me?

11

James

By this point, the pattern spreading over my paper looks pretty impressive. The spiky black zigzags, little spirals, and wild loops look almost three-dimensional. Like you just have to reach out your hand and you’ll be sucked into the picture. I’m constantly amazed by what comes out when you’re doodling. And how well it can take your mind off things. Such as the fact that the lads are just a few hundred yards away, on the playing field, training for the weekend’s match. And the fact that I have another hour and eleven minutes to go before I can leave this room.

“James!”

I look up. Everyone on the events team is watching me. “What?”

“He wasn’t even listening!” Jessalyn exclaims, glaring at Ruby in outrage, as if it were her fault that I can’t stand these pointless meetings.

“Let me repeat it then,” Ruby says calmly, looking at me across the table. “We need costumes to do a photo shoot for the posters. There’s a rental shop in Gormsey, but it would be obvious that the clothes aren’t original and are made of plastic.”

“Gormsey?” I repeat in confusion.

“It’s where I live,” she explains.

Never heard of it.

I catch myself wondering what Ruby’s house is like. What her parents look like. Whether she has brothers or sisters.

Things that shouldn’t interest me.

“We agreed last time that we want to make the photos as authentic as possible. But finding good costumes isn’t that easy. Beaufort’s dates back over a hundred and fifty years though, doesn’t it?”

She’s making a huge effort to sound friendly, but that doesn’t stop an icy chill spreading through my veins.

I can guess what’s coming next.

“Do you think you could ask your parents if we could borrow some clothes from the period?”

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