Page 51 of Save Me

The door opens behind me. “Ruby? Everything OK?”

I stiffen. Standing in front of me is James Beaufort with a hundred-and-fifty-year-old dress over his arm and a look on his face that makes me go weak at the knees. Standing behind me is my sister, who I was fighting with over Dad’s jam only a few minutesago. My two worlds have collided head-on, and I don’t know how to react. I go hot and cold all over, nod to Ember with a forced smile, and try to tell her, without words, to back off. She looks from James to me and back again, curious and skeptical at the same time, but does eventually draw back, leaving the door ajar.

Only then can I turn back to James. It takes me a couple of breaths to get myself together. Then I realize that I owe him an answer. “I don’t know,” I say truthfully.

James nods. “OK. Actually, I only really came to apologize for Saturday.”

“Only for Saturday?”

Now he smiles wryly. “I’m certainly not going to apologize for treating you to a lap dance.”

No clue whether I can accept his apology if he’s going to say stuff like that.

I don’t know if he means it or if he just wants to pour oil on troubled waters so that I don’t tell anyone about Lydia. Even so, it would make my life easier not to be constantly annoyed at him. Or if I could occasionally speak to him about school stuff. I noticed at the weekend that he’s got more than just a quick tongue; he’s intelligent. He was fun to talk to. And there was that certain something that gave me pins and needles and made me curious for more.

I know it’s unwise and that I shouldn’t trust him an inch. But the longer I think about it, the more I realize that I don’t actually want to go back to the old days.

I look him straight in the eyes so that he’ll understand that I’m deadly serious as I say: “I’m not letting you treat me that way again.”

“Understood,” he replies quietly, holding out the dress to me again.

At that moment, it starts to rain. Not much, but enough that, despite the bag, I’m scared for the dress. Hastily, I take it from James and hang it safely in our hallway.

By the time I get back, James’s hair is full of water droplets that are now making their way down his cheeks. He wipes his face with the back of his hand, then runs it through his hair without taking his eyes off me. The polite thing to do would be to invite him in before he gets soaked through, but I simply can’t. It doesn’t feel right. I can’t introduce him to my parents and sister. Maybe I never will be able to.

“I accept your apology,” I say in the end.

His eyes light up. It’s the first time I’ve seen an expression like that on his face.

So we stand there in the rain, him on my parents’ front steps, me in the doorway, not prepared to let him in.

But it’s a start.

16

James

Watching lacrosse without being allowed to play truly sucks.

My team is pumped with adrenaline as they emerge from the changing rooms, and player after player high-fives me as I stand like a spectator on the edge of the field between the stands. I let the misery wash over me, but at this moment, I regret everything, especially my decision to liven up the Back-to-School party a bit.

The worst part is that Roger Cree, the new guy who’s taken my position, is so good that he’s developing into a genuine rival. If he’d been crap, my place on the team would be safe, but now? How can I be sure the coach will want to keep me once my suspension is over? Especially seeing how well Cree’s getting on with Cyril and the rest of the guys lately.

Speaking of the devil, he comes and holds out his fist to me, and I bump it reluctantly with my own, then join the subs on the bench. I cross my ankles and watch the other team run out onto the field and take their positions against my boys. They’re a good team. I recognize a lot of the players from last season. One of theirattackers is particularly hard to pin down, and lightning fast. I hope Cyril’s got an eye on him.

“Hey, Beaufort. Sorry you don’t get to play,” one of the guys on the bench says out of nowhere. His name’s Matthew, but I doubt that we’ve ever spoken a word to each other before now.

“Yeah, bro, gotta be shit,” someone else agrees.

“I don’t get why they banned you anyway. It was a great prank.”

“And it’s your last year. Can’t be great to spend the season on the bench.”

OK, that’s enough. I jump up without a word and walk to the edge of the field. I’m glad I’m wearing shades. Not just because the sun is bloody bright for October, but also so that nobody can see how I’m feeling.

I stand a little distance from Freeman and cross my arms, looking over the field. I hate watching my team when there’s nothing I can do. It takes less than five minutes from the whistle for the opposition to score.

Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me. I glance over my shoulder and see Ruby and her friend Lin running toward us. They’re both bright red in the face with windblown hair. As they come to a halt, Ruby swears loudly. She hasn’t spotted me yet, so I get the chance to study her unobtrusively.

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