Page 69 of Save Me

I roll onto my side and reach for my phone. Jessa’s sent me a lovely text, and Lin left me a voice note just after half past one, singing quietly and then wishing me a gorgeous day. She ends the message by saying how certain she is that we’ll both get into Oxford and that she can hardly wait.

After that, I get dressed, sit down at my desk, and flick through my planner as a distraction. The Halloween party is a week from today. It seems like forever that I’ve been totally focused on this event. On Friday morning, the posters arrived from the print shop, and we put them up around the school during that day’s meeting. My fears were unfounded. Nobody said anything about the photo of James and me, or teased me about it. In fact, I only got positive reactions, and Mr. Lexington emailed me to say that the guests from outside the school had been very complimentary about the design too.

I still haven’t got used to pretty much everyone at Maxton Hall knowing my name now though. It’s weird when people say hi or pull out a chair for me in the dining hall. But I’m trying not to let them see that it bothers me, just to act the same as normal, like I don’t mind all the attention. That’s what James does. He acts like he doesn’t give a shit about anything. But these days, I know that that’s not true.

My thoughts drift automatically back to that moment last Monday.I’m going to change that.He sounded so determined and gave me such an insistent look. As though there was nothing that mattered to him more in the world just then than to convince me that he was serious.

I shake myself to get thoughts of James out of my head. But as my sight clears, I jump.

James

I’ve written his name in my diary. And I didn’t even notice! My cheeks burn up, and I reach straight for the white-out in my pencil case. I hold it over the first couple of letters, but then pause. Slowly, I put the little tube down again and run my fingers gently over his name. My fingertips tingle. Not a good sign. I’ve spent days askingmyself what that’s all about. After all, he’s still…him. But I can’t deny the fact that something’s changed. For ages now, the sight of him has filled me not with rage and suspicion but with something else. Something warm and exciting.

I can’t help smiling. Because I’m pleased to see him. Because I enjoy his company. Because he’s quick and intelligent and I find him interesting. Because he’s like a puzzle that I’m desperate to solve.

I’d never have thought it possible, but I don’t hate James Beaufort anymore. Far from it.

Suddenly, my door opens, and Ember walks in. Guiltily, I slam my bullet journal shut.

Ember’s dubious gaze is fixed on me, and then her eyes turn to my planner as if she knows perfectly well that it’s hiding some cringeworthy secret. But she grins and bounces toward me, taking my hand to pull me up from my chair. “I’m surprised you haven’t tried to come down yet,” she says. She keeps on pulling at my arm, but there’s really no need. I’m more than willing to follow.

We leave my room, and I wrap my arms around her waist to give her a hug. “You have to fulfill my every wish today.”

At this moment, I realize that there’s a hint of sadness mingling with my pleasure. This is the last birthday I’ll spend here with my family and Ember. Who knows where I’ll be this time next year? Will I actually be in Oxford? With Lin at my side? Or all alone? And what if they don’t want me after all—where will I be then?

Ember breaks into my thoughts as we go through the door on our right to the living room. “Here’s the birthday girl!” she exclaims.

“Surprise!” shout my family.

I squeal and clap my hands to my mouth and feel my eyesstarting to sting. I don’t often cry, and if I do, it’s alone in my room where no one can see me. But as I see my grandparents, aunt, uncle, and cousin here with my parents, and they all start to sing “Happy Birthday,” it’s impossible to control my emotions.

The room is beautifully decorated. Dad and Ember have excelled themselves this year. There are white and mint-green pompoms hanging from the ceiling, the dining table is bedecked with a garland in the same colors, and all my presents are piled at the back on the coffee table, with two metallic mint-green balloons shimmering above them, shaped like the numbers that make up my age.

The next half hour goes by as if in a dream. Everyone hugs me, wishes me a happy birthday, asks how I’m feeling, and then they give me their presents. From Uncle Tom, Aunt Trudy, and my cousin Max, there’s the box set ofMy Hero Academia, a manga series I’ve had my eye on for months; Ember gives me new pens and pretty stickers for my planner; my grandparents have bought two textbooks from the Oxford reading list. My parents give me an external hard drive for my laptop, which I’ve been wanting since the start of the year when it just gave up the ghost for no apparent reason, wiping out pretty much all my files.

“So, who’s that from?” I ask, pointing to a large parcel that’s still on the table.

“A secret admirer,” says Mum, waggling her eyebrows. I look suspiciously from her to Dad. He just shrugs.

“It came in the post,” Ember explains.

“No address on it?” I ask, studying the black cardboard box and blue bow curiously.

“I don’t think that’s necessary—we all know who it’s from,” Ember says.

“Oh my God, you’ve got a boyfriend!” Max is looking at me wide-eyed.

Ember says “Yes” at the same moment that I shout “No!”

“Open it,” Trudy demands, peering over my shoulder. She reaches out a hand and acts like she’s about to pull open the bow. I just about manage to push the parcel away in time. I pick it up and sit down on the sofa.

Slowly, I undo the bow. I feel horribly watched and glare at my family in an attempt to stop them staring at me like this. Not that it does any good. You could hear a pin drop. I sigh and take off the lid.

The box contains a bag. I hold my breath as I pull it out and set it down in my lap. It’s in dark brown waxed leather with an adjustable strap and two little front pockets beneath a flap that fastens with snaps. Cautiously, I open it. The satchel has a lining in blue and green checks and an array of sections that strikes me as perfect. There’s a laptop pocket, lots of little ones on the side that you can close with zips, and a main central pocket with a smaller side section.

With this bag at my side, I could conquer the world. There’s no doubt about that. I close it gently and stroke the leather. Then I notice something I didn’t spot at first. There are three letters on the bottom right-hand corner of the flap. My initials. RJB.

It takes my breath away. I feel like I’m in a dream, and I hardly even hear my family’s oohs and aahs. I peek into the box, and on the bottom, amid the black tissue paper, there’s a card. It’s creamy white and edged in gold, with a message in black ink.

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