Page 81 of Save Me

I tilt my head to one side and study my handiwork. I wrote the words directly beneath his, and it hurts to see them and to realize that we’ve actually reached this point.

“Ruby?” Ember pokes her head around my door. “Dad’s cooked dinner. Coming?”

I nod, unable to take my eyes off the card.

Ember walks in and looks over my shoulder. She sighs and strokes my arm. Then, without another word, she fetches the box from behind the door and helps me to stow the bag away in it again. My heart bleeds as I put the card on top and tape the box up.

“I can take it to the post office on my way to school tomorrow,” she says quietly.

There’s a lump in my throat, getting bigger by the second. “Thanks,” I croak as Ember takes me in her arms.

My sister takes the parcel into her room so that I don’t have tolook at it. I’m grateful to her for not mentioning James’s jumper, even though I clearly saw her eyes rest on it for a moment. I didn’t have the heart to pack it away in the box too. And I refuse to think about what that means.

After dinner, I lie on my bed and stare at the ceiling. I’m giving myself this one evening and night to mourn for what there was between James and me. To grieve for the friend I’ve lost without knowing why.

But no longer than that. I’m still me, and I’ve sworn to myself that I won’t let anything or anyone get in my way. As of tomorrow, everything will be back to normal, the way it’s been these last two years. I’ll concentrate on school and go to events meetings. I’ll have lunch in the dining hall with Lin. I’ll prepare for the Oxford interviews.

I’ll go back to living in a world where James Beaufort, like the rest of Maxton Hall, doesn’t even know my name.

James

Ruby is scarily good at avoiding me. It’s like she’s memorized my timetable by heart so that she doesn’t bump into me anywhere. When our paths cross, she walks firmly past me without deigning to look at me, both hands gripping the straps of her green backpack. Every time I see her, I remember her card, which is folded up in my wallet, and which I sometimes pull out when my yearning for Ruby is too strong.

Like now, for example.

When will this finally stop? When will I be able to think about anything apart from Ruby? Especially seeing that this is about theworst possible time to be distracted. The Thinking Skills Assessment is on Thursday, and if I’m going to stand the slightest chance, I need to really shine.

Unfortunately, I can’t remember a single one of the things Lydia and I have been talking about in the last half hour. We printed out every practice exercise we could find, spread them out in her room, and worked through them one by one, until there was smoke coming out of our ears. Lydia shuts the book she was scanning for an answer and props herself up on her elbows. She’s lying on her stomach, knees bent, and she’s kicking her feet in time with the music that’s playing quietly in the background. When she holds out her hand, I silently pass her the bag of crisps we’ve been helping ourselves from this last hour.

Then I run my fingers around the edge of Ruby’s card, yet again. It’s lost its edge now; the corners are crumpled. I’m about to put it away again when Lydia commando crawls a little way toward me.

“What’s that?” she asks, suddenly, grabbing the card faster than I can react. I want to snatch it back, but Lydia’s unfolded it and is reading my words, and Ruby’s. Her eyes darken, and when she looks up, I can see sympathy in them. “James…”

I snatch the card from her hand and slip it back in my wallet, which I then slide into my trouser pocket. After that, I reopen the book that Lydia had finished with and start to read. The letters make no sense, however hard I focus.

Why the fuck is my heart racing like this? And why do I feel like I just got caught?

“James.”

I look up from the book. “What?”

Lydia sits up, cross-legged, and starts to wind her hair up intoa messy bun, which she then holds in place with a hair elastic. “What’s that card all about?”

I shrug my shoulders. “Nothing.”

Lydia raises one eyebrow and glances eloquently at the pocket into which the wallet, card and all, just disappeared. Then she looks at me again, more warmly this time. “What happened between you and Ruby?”

My shoulders tense. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Lydia snorts quietly and shakes her head. “I know exactly how you’re feeling,” she says after a few moments of awkward silence. “You don’t have to act unbothered by the thing with Ruby around me. I’ve got eyes in my head, James. I know when you’re feeling shit.”

I stare at the book again. Lydia’s right. I’m miserable. My entire life is a disaster, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

“The one thing bothering me,” I say, “is this fucking family, and the fact that I can’t face my own future.”

I feel Lydia’s empathetic eyes on me, but I can’t look at her. I’m afraid that if I do, I’ll lose my last ounce of self-control, and I can’t allow that to happen. Not in this house, where my father’s eyes and ears are everywhere, and where I’ve never felt truly safe.

“Ruby isn’t doing well either. Why…”

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