Page 25 of Save You
Soon, the mood is much more cheerful than when we started out.We laugh together, and it feels like the four of us have been friends for ages.Around eight, Mum and Dad say goodbye and drive round to some friends.I can see how relieved they are that I’ve ventured out of my room this evening and I’m spending the night with friends.
After that, we watchHow to Be Single, which was one of Ember’s Christmas presents—she loves Rebel Wilson—and two hours later, when the credits start to roll, I get why.Even Lydia laughs out loud in some places, although every time that happens, she looks like she can hardly believe it’s her making that noise.
Before the end of the credits, we launch into Dad’s quiche.
“You’re so lucky, Ruby.”Lin’s holding up a forkful of quiche and studying it closely.“To have a baker for a mum and a chef for a dad.If it were me, I’d be in seventh heaven.I miss our cook at home.”
“You used to have a cook?”Ember asks, wide-eyed.
“Yeah,” says Lin, shrugging her shoulders as if it was the most natural thing in the world.“But then everything changed at home and I had to learn all the basics.Mum’s cooking skills were kind of rusty too, but she’s taught me lots of great Chinese recipes that she got from her gran.These days, we really enjoy cooking together.”
I take a bite of quiche and let it melt on my tongue.
“The only thing I can cook is scrambled eggs,” Lydia says pensively.“That must have been such a drastic shock to you and your mum.”
For a moment, Lin seems surprised by Lydia’s words, but then she smiles slightly.“I’ve learned never to look back, only forward.”She puts her fork down on her empty plate and wipes up the last crumbs with her finger.Then she picks up one of the bags.“We should do these now.It’s almost ten.”
“Oh, how pretty,” I say as Lin passes round the little notebooks.They’re very plain with black covers and accents picked out in gold, speckled creamy-white pages, and two ribbon bookmarks—just what I like best.
“This is going to be my first bullet journal,” says Lydia, staring at the notebook and then looking at us in slight confusion.“What do I have to do?”
Ember piles up our plates and puts them to one side, then she puts her laptop in the middle of the coffee table so that we can all see the screen.“It’s really simple,” she says.“Every New Year’s Eve, we write down our resolutions.”She opens her book and points to the first page.“And before that, we have to decide on a heading.”
Together, we search the internet for fonts we like and try to copy them, or to be inspired by them.For the most part, we work in silence, the only sounds being our pens on the paper and the soft background music.
But as I focus on the last details of my heading and circle the date of the coming year in a pale gray, I suddenly feel heavyhearted again.By this time next year, everything will have changed.
In seven months from now, I’ll do my A levels.And—hopefully—I’ll pass.And after that I’ll leave Maxton HallCollege and—hopefully—be at St.Hilda’s.I’ll have new teachers and new classmates.I’ll have a new room in college and new surroundings and new friends.
An exciting new life.
A life without James Beaufort.
The idea takes me by surprise and hurts more than I’d have thought possible, but I try to push it away.I grab a pen and start writing:
Resolutions:
Get A level grades I need
Oxford
Keep in touch with Mum, Dad, and Ember
Make at least one new friend
