Page 2 of Save You
Graham doesn’t hang up.He stays on the line, making quiet, soothing sounds.On the one hand, hearing him is churning me up more than ever, but on the other, it feels so safe and familiar that I press my phone even harder to my ear.I think his voice was one of the reasons I fell in love with him—long before I ever saw him in person.I remember the hours we spent on the phone, myear sore and burning, remember waking up with Graham still on the line.His voice, gentle and quiet, deep, and just as piercing as his golden-brown eyes.
I’ve always felt safe with Graham.For ages, he was my rock.It’s only thanks to him that I was able to move on from the thing with Gregg and start to look ahead again.
And even though I’m devastated, this feeling of security starts trying to fight its way back to the top.Just hearing his voice is helping me calm down ever so slightly.I don’t know how long I sit here like this but, gradually, my tears stop.
“What’s wrong?”he whispers in the end.
I can’t answer.All I can do is utter a helpless sound.
For a minute, he stays quiet.I hear him breathe in a few times like he’s going to say something, but at the last moment, he always holds back.When he finally speaks, his voice is hushed and full of pain: “There’s nothing I’d rather do than drive over to see you, to be there for you.”
I shut my eyes and imagine him sitting in his flat, at the old wooden table that looks about ready to collapse.Graham likes to claim it’s an antique, but he actually pulled it out of a skip and revarnished it.
“I know,” I whisper.
“But you know that I can’t, don’t you?”
Something in the sitting room just smashed.I hear breaking glass, then someone yelling.I can’t tell whether they’re hurt or having fun, but I straighten up all the same.I can’t let James add a physical injury to the list.
“Sorry for phoning,” I whisper, my voice broken, and I end the call.
I feel a stab in the heart as I get up and leave my little safe haven to go and check on my brother.
Ember
My sister is ill.
I wouldn’t normally find that surprising—after all, it’s December, it’s freezing, and everywhere you look, people are coughing and sneezing.It’s only a matter of when, not if, you’re going to catch a cold.
But my sister never gets ill.Seriously, never.
When Ruby came home three nights ago and went to bed without a word, I didn’t think anything of it.After all, she’d just come through the marathon of applying to Oxford, and it must have been mentally and physically exhausting.But the next day, she said she had a cold and couldn’t go to school.That made me dubious because anyone who knows Ruby knows that she’d drag herself in, even with a temperature, out of fear of missing something important.
Today is Saturday, and I’m starting to feel really worried.Ruby’s barely left her room.She’s lying in bed, reading one book after another, and pretending that her eyes are red because she’s ill.But she can’t fool me.Something bad has happened, and she won’t tell me what, which is driving me crazy.
Right now, I’m squinting through the crack around her door, watching her stir her soup without eating any of it.I can’t remember ever seeing her like this.Her face is pale, and there are bluish circles under her eyes, getting darker with every day.Her hair isgreasy and limp, hanging uncombed around her face, and she’s wearing the same baggy clothes as yesterday and the day before.Normally, Ruby is the epitome of togetherness.It’s not just her planner or her schoolwork—she takes pride in her appearance too.I didn’t know she even had any slobby clothes.
“Stop lurking outside my room,” she says suddenly, and I jump, caught.I act like I was coming in anyway, and push the door open.
Ruby raises her eyebrows at me.Then she puts the bowl of soup down on her bedside table, on the tray I brought it up on.I suppress a sigh.
“If you don’t want it, I’ll eat it,” I threaten, nodding toward the soup.Not that it has the desired effect.Ruby gestures vaguely.
“Knock yourself out.”
I groan with frustration as I lower myself onto the edge of her bed.“It’s been hard, but I’ve left you alone for the last couple of days because I can see you’re not exactly in the mood to talk, but…I’m genuinely worried about you.”
Ruby pulls her duvet up to her chin, so that only her head is peeking out.Her eyes are dull and sad, like whatever happened to her has just this minute hit her with full force.But then she blinks, and she’s back—or she’s acting like she is.There’s been a funny look in her eyes since last Wednesday.It’s been like only her body was here, and her mind has been somewhere else entirely.
“It’s just a cold.I’ll be better soon,” she says flatly, sounding like one of those lifeless computerized voices when you’re on hold, like she’s been replaced by a robot.
Ruby turns her face to the wall and disappears under the duvet again—a clear sign that as far as she’s concerned, theconversation is over.I sigh, and I’m about to stand up when her phone lights up on the bedside table, catching my attention.I lean over slightly so that I can see the screen.
“Lin’s calling you,” I mumble.
All I hear is a muffled “don’t care.”
I frown and watch as the call ends and, a moment later, the number of missed calls pops up on the screen.It’s in the double digits.“She’s called you more than ten times, Ruby.Whatever’s happened, you won’t be able to hide forever.”
