Page 78 of Save Me

I can’t help wondering how far we would have gone if his dad hadn’t interrupted us.

I can’t help wondering if I’ll ever get the chance to kiss him like that again.

OK, so maybe the book isn’t doing as much to push out the memory as I hoped. But I won’t let James mess with my head. And I certainly won’t let him drive me out of my mind. That’s my own and it isn’t going anywhere just because James has released a few butterflies in my stomach.

This afternoon, I read almost half the book, which is kind of extreme. By the evening, I’m so tired that I fall into bed half dead. Unfortunately, all I dream of is James, his dark eyes and his hoarse voice whispering my name, over and over and over again.

The next morning feels like my first day of school. I’m nervous and jittery, and my stomach somersaults as the bus pulls up at the stop. I’m wondering what it’ll be like to see James again. Will he come over to me? Or should I go to him? Is that too blatant? Will we act like nothing ever happened? Or have we been considerably more than just friends since Saturday? The thoughts whirl in my head, and I’m annoyed with myself for not having just rung him yesterday. Then at least I’d know where we stand and how I should act. I hate being so unsure of myself.

Once I’ve got off the bus, I pay particular attention to straightening out my school uniform. I don’t want a single pleat out ofplace; my tie has to be straight. I’m carrying the bag James gave me over my shoulder. The weight of it gives me a strange sense of security. Like it’s confirmation that there really is something between James and me. I run my fingers over the initials on the flap as I look up at the huge iron gates to Maxton Hall.

I can do this. Just act normal. Nothing has changed, I reassure myself in my thoughts, then I stand up straight and walk into the school grounds.

There’s no sign of James in assembly. His friends are sitting on the back row, and as I walk past them, I hear Cyril snort. I don’t know if it’s aimed at me, but it makes me feel queasy all the same. I turn round and he gives me a cold stare. I ignore him.

My day starts with history, and however hard I try, I just can’t focus. All I can think of is that after this, I have maths in the room that James is sitting in now. We often bump into each other in the corridor because Mrs. Wakefield practically always runs late.

When the bell rings, I try not to stand up too quickly but, judging by the look Alistair gives me from across the room, without much success. I walk toward the main building. The closer I get to the classroom, the faster my heart beats. Just before I have to turn into the corridor, I stop to adjust my black over-knee socks so that they’re exactly level. Then I take a deep breath and turn the corner.

In my mind, I’m prepared to meet James, but the sight of him next to Lydia in the hallway still makes my heart skip for a moment. He looks strange yet familiar in uniform. After a short pause, while I try to settle my pulse, I walk on. I can just say hi to them. Just hello, nothing more. There’s nothing weird about that. I really don’t want things to get weird. I just need to look into hiseyes to know what’s what. Will I see the same nervousness in them that tormented me all Sunday?

Lydia sees me first. She gives James an almost imperceptible nudge with her arm. He mumbles a few words and nods to her. Then he walks over to me. My smile turns of its own accord into a grin. He’s only a few steps away, and I open my mouth to greet him when…

…he walks past me.

“Hey,” I hear him say behind me. I turn and see that he’s speaking to Cyril. They have a brief chat, James makes hand gestures, and Cyril laughs. Then the two of them walk the few feet to their classroom and go in without a backward glance.

Intense pain spreads through my rib cage. I freeze, rooted to the spot, right there in the middle of the corridor. I swallow. When I look up, the only other person still in sight is Lydia. For a moment, it looks as though she wants to say something, but then she too turns on her heel and disappears without a word into another classroom. Meanwhile, I can’t even put one foot in front of another. It’s simply impossible to move.

I spend the rest of the day in a daze. Every lesson seems longer than the last. I hear the words our teachers say but don’t understand them, don’t take a single thing in. I can’t even manage to walk into the dining hall at lunchtime. The mere thought of seeing James there with his friends, firmly anchored back in his own world, turns my stomach. Instead, I sit in the library and stare out of the window.

I just don’t know what I’ve done wrong. I can’t explain whyhe’d act like that. I’m racking my brain over it, but I don’t think I made a mistake. And even if I did, I didn’t deserve to be treated that way. I spend the whole of maths trying to kid myself that he simply hadn’t seen me. But we bumped into each other in the hall after class, and he walked straight past me without even looking at me. An unmistakable signal.

Of course, Lin notices that something’s wrong, but I never even told her about the kiss, and there’s no way I can do that now. It feels like there’s a gaping wound in my chest. Everything hurts—breathing, moving, speaking.

Lin has to take charge of the team meeting on her own as I just sit beside her, doodling in my planner. I see the place where I erased James’s name. Nobody but me knows what’s under that white mark, but I run my finger over it and swallow hard.

I didn’t imagine our kiss. The way James said my name. The way he looked at me. The desperate way he touched me. There was something between us. Something huge. And even if he’s decided, for whatever reason, that the whole thing was a mistake, he could have just told me that today. I’m a rational human being and know that sometimes there are things that simply can’t work out. That would have hurt too, but I could have lived with that.

The thing I can’t deal with is him acting so horribly. The longer I sit here in this meeting, staring at his empty place, the angrier I feel. Was it all just a game for him? Did he want to see how far he could take me? Maybe it was just a dare from his mates. Or he wanted to wrap me round his little finger so that I’d put in a good word for him with Lexington. The mere thought makes me sick. Was everything I’ve learned about him in the last few weeks a big, fat lie? Was he actually the James Beaufort I knew first of all the whole time? Calculating, sly, and arrogant?

I look out of the window and see, at a distance, the lacrosse team on the playing field. My rage shoots through the roof. It eats away at me from inside out, and my skin feels hot and cold all at once. Unconsciously, I’m grinding my teeth so hard that they squeak. It’s a massive effort not to show the muddled emotions washing around inside me during the meeting. Once it’s over, I turn to Lin.

“Do you mind if I go home? I don’t feel well.”

She looks thoughtfully at me and then nods slowly. “Of course not. I’ll look after everything here. I’ll give you a call later, if you like.” It sounds like a cautious offer, and I squeeze her shoulder gratefully.

I leave the room without saying goodbye to the others. Suddenly, the bag over my shoulder feels less like a gift from a friend and more like a bribe. All I can focus on, as I stamp through the library and head out toward the sports grounds, are my disappointment and anger.

I can hear the shouts and yells from miles away. Bloody lacrosse.

I stop abruptly on the edge of the field, looking around, arms crossed. It doesn’t take me long to spot the royal blue shirt with the white seventeen on it.

“Beaufort, your girlfriend’s here,” Wren yells out, barely a second later. I can’t see his grin through his helmet, but I can clearly hear it in his voice.

James turns and sees me standing at the sideline. I’m almost expecting him to ghost me again, but then he waves a hand.

“Carry on,” he calls, then jogs over to me. Now he looks at me for the first time today—or I think he does. I can’t really tell because of the helmet.

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