Page 84 of Save Me

“Can you expand on that a little, Keshav?” Pippa asks encouragingly.

“I mean murder and stuff like that—I think it’s totally OK if the victim’s family don’t forgive. I mean, why should they?”

The nape of my neck tingles slightly, and I glance almost imperceptibly back at Ruby. Her eyes meet mine, and the pins and needles strengthen. There are two tables between us, and all that space, but I want to jump across the gap, take her face in my hands, and kiss her again.

“But that brings us back to individual moral standards. Everyone’s threshold for what they consider unforgivable is different,” says Lydia.

Kesh is replying, but I’m not listening. In Ruby’s eyes, I can see exactly where her moral threshold is set. The things I said to her are unforgivable. Her lips are set into a hard line, and there are dark circles under her eyes, which must be my fault. She will never forgive me, and even though I knew we had no future together, it’s only in this moment that I grasp what that really means. I will never have the chance to touch her again. I’ll never truly talk to her again. Laugh with her. Kiss her.

The realization shakes me to the core. It’s as though a deepblack hole has opened up beneath me, and I’m falling into it. Falling and falling and falling.

I try with all my might to take deep, even breaths, while the rest of the discussion rushes on around me. Just like everything else.

25

Ruby

I always used to love dreaming. In my dreams, the impossible became possible. I could fly and sometimes do magic; I went to Oxford and traveled the world as an ambassador. Most of the time, my dreams were vivid and so realistic that the next day, I’d go to school super motivated, trying to give more than a hundred percent.

Now I hate my dreams. In most of them, James plays the leading role, and I just want that to stop. I wake up in the middle of the night—not because they’re nightmares, but from the throbbing between my legs because I dreamed about him taking hold of me and kissing me. I dream that he offers me payment in kind for my silence, and this time, I don’t stop him unbuttoning his shirt. I dream of him leading me into a world where he hasn’t wiped me from his life.

This is yet another morning when I wake up with hot cheeks and the duvet between my legs. I groan and roll onto my back, laying an arm over my eyes. This can’t go on. I somehow have to succeed in driving James out of my subconscious, or else I’ll gomad. How am I meant to forget him if my dreams every night show me everything that could have happened between us?

I rub my eyes and reach for my phone on my bedside table. It’s just before six, so my alarm will go off in ten minutes anyway. Wearily, I sit up and open my inbox. I’ve had eight new emails since last night. I scroll slowly through them to see if there’s anything important.

As I see the sender’s name on the last message, I sit up in bed so hastily that I feel dizzy.

It’s from the admissions officer at St. Hilda’s.

I hold my breath as I open it.

Dear Ruby,

I am very happy to invite you for an interview at St. Hilda’s College, Oxford. Many congratulations on successfully reaching this stage in the application process.

I don’t take in any of the rest of the text. I squeal so loudly that it echoes around the entire house. Ember comes running into my room, and I jump out of bed. It takes me a moment to regain my balance, but once I’ve done so, I jam my phone under her nose. Meanwhile, I start jumping up and down.

“Oh my God!” she screams, grabbing my hands and dancing around in circles with me. “Oh my God, Ruby!”

After that, I run downstairs so fast that I almost land flat on my face. Dad is wheeling out into the hallway; Mum’s coming wide-eyed out of the kitchen. I hold up my phone triumphantly.

“I got an interview!”

Mum claps her hands to her mouth, and Dad cheers. Emberwraps her arms around my waist and hugs me tight. “I’m so happy for you! But I don’t want you to move out.”

“I’ve only been invited for an interview; it doesn’t mean I’ll get in. And if I do, Oxford’s only a couple of hours away anyway.” I’m so excited that I can’t stand still. My dream seemed so distant for years, but now it’s come a whole lot closer. It suddenly feels so real that I can almost touch it. My whole body is tingling with energy.

“We all know you’re going to rock the interview,” says Dad, his choice of words making Ember and me laugh. “They’ll have no choice but to accept you.”

I’m grinning so widely that the corners of my mouth are starting to ache. But I can’t stop. It’s been ages since I’ve looked forward to anything this much.

“I’m so proud of you, love.” Mum drops a kiss on the top of my head and gives me a hug. Once she lets go, I bend down to Dad, who hugs me too.

“So what exactly does this mean for now?” he asks, once I’ve straightened up again.

I read the email through to the end this time. “It says here to arrive by eight on Sunday evening. The interviews then run on Monday and Tuesday. The journey home again is on Wednesday morning.”

“Four days in Oxford,” Mum whispers with a shake of her head. “I knew they’d invite you.”

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