Page 11 of Save Us
“What’s up?” Kesh says from behind me. He’s at a safe distance, and yet the hair stands up on the back of my neck. I focus on typing my answer to Wren, then shove my phone back in my sports bag.
“Wren and Ruby are coming to mine in a bit.” I turn to face Kesh. His eyes meet mine, and I have to fight down the way my body reacts to him, every bloody time.
“Ruby must be feeling like shit,” Kesh says. He picks up his stuff off the bench, and we walk toward the changing room together. “Apparently, she got caught with Sutton and she’s been suspended.” His skeptical tone makes it clear that he doesn’t believe a word of the rumors.
“She was definitely not involved with Sutton.”
Kesh glances inquiringly at me.
“You were there when James took those photos, right?” I ask. Kesh is observant. He won’t have missed that.
“Yeah, but I can’t believe he showed anyone else. There’s got to be something else going on.”
I give a confused growl. James has done way worse in his time than forward a couple of photos, but I absolutely can’t imagine him doing anything to hurt Ruby like that.
I clear my throat. “Want to come?”
Kesh stops in the corridor. He looks questioningly at me. He always wears his hair in a messy bun for training, and it’s coming loose. I long to reach out a hand and tuck the stray hairs back behind his ears. I fight the impulse and grip on to my bottle instead, squeezing so hard that the plastic pops.
“D’youwantme to come?” he asks in return.
Kesh and I haven’t spent much time together since the fight. I can’t remember the last time we had a proper conversation without the others around. The moment we’re in the same room, the air crackles between us and I have to move away for fear of making the same old mistake of accepting the only thing Kesh can give me—stolen kisses in the dark and constant secrecy.
But I hope things can go back to the old days and that we can manage to be good mates again. No more and no less. So I nod, even though I know it’s probably not good for my heart to spend the evening with him.
“The more the merrier.” I meet his eyes. I’m sure he can read what I’m feeling. You learn stuff like that when you’ve been friends for so long, and even if you didn’t, Keshav is one of the most empathetic people I know.
I sometimes wish he’d used that gift before he broke my heart.
“Then yeah, I’d love to,” he says quietly.
“OK,” I cough. “Cool.”
“I need a shower,” Kesh says, pointing down the hallway.
I feel the heat rising, even though my pulse is vaguely normal again now after training.
I hurry past him to the changing room. “I’ll wait for you outside,” I call over my shoulder.
All the way, I feel Kesh’s calm, knowing gaze on the back of my neck.
Ruby looks like she’s had a long, tough day. The moment she got to my house, she dropped onto the sofa in my bedroom with a pale face, and she hasn’t moved since. Everyone else has changed, but she’s still wearing her uniform. She looks so sad. You can’t help wanting to look after her.
Kesh is linking his phone to the sound system to play some music as I walk into the kitchen to see what there is in the fridge. We don’t have so many kitchen staff now that my siblings, Elaine and Fred, don’t live at home, and Mum and Dad don’t insist on a family dinner anymore. Not that the last bit’s a hardship. I spent most of the time sitting hunched while they talked to Fred—and mostly about Fred.
Now, I can go days without setting eyes on any of my family, and that’s fine by me. I like time to myself. This way, I don’t have to fake it, act like my parents’ behavior doesn’t hurt me.
I pull a ready-made lasagna from the fridge and nuke it in the microwave. Then I load up four huge platefuls and carry them up to my room. I put two down on the coffee table, for me and Ruby, hand one to Wren, then hold the fourth out to Kesh, who issitting at my desk, tapping on his phone. Then I go back downstairs again for cutlery and glasses, which I put down on the table.
“Here,” I say, holding out a fork to Ruby.
“Thanks.” Her voice sounds hollow.
I sit next to her on the sofa and start wolfing down the lasagna. I always feel starved after training.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Ruby pick up the fork and take a tentative bite, then let the plate sink back onto her lap again.
“Want to talk about it?” I ask cautiously. “Or would you rather ignore what’s happened and chat about something else?”
