Chapter 22
TORI
Ms Barnett left it to me to decide if I wanted to go to classes today, and under normal circumstances, I’d probably have stayed in my room.
I slept amazingly well, but this morning I still feel like I was hit by a truck.
The only thing that got me out of bed was the thought of seeing Charlie.
I want to see him. I really want to see him.
It’s bad enough that I have to wait until history in period four because I was too late for breakfast.
Almost the moment I enter the classroom, Charlie looks at me in a way that makes me weak at the knees, and he takes my hand under the desk. ‘Are you all right?’ he asks.
There’s something lovely about how important that is to him. I nod. ‘Are you?’
‘Couldn’t be better,’ he declares.
‘Hello, who are you?’ Omar comes cheerily towards us and Charlie lets go of my hand. ‘Hey, guys, I think there’s a new girl here.’
‘Are you feeling better?’ Grace asks, popping up behind Gideon. Olive, who is standing beside her, turns away and sits down without comment. Or so I think, because she does look over when I answer Grace’s question.
‘Yeah, much better,’ I reply.
‘Isn’t that lucky?’ Olive says, almost under her breath.
I try to keep smiling. Charlie is pressing his knee gently against mine. Ms Kelleher enters the room. As we stand up to greet her, Charlie puts his hand on my back.
When I turn to him, he keeps his eyes to the front, but he’s smiling.
It’s hard to focus and I don’t know whether that’s down to the slight headache and tiredness, or to Charlie’s hand, which is always on my leg or arm.
‘Want to go back upstairs?’ he asks, as we’re packing away our stuff after class. It would be na?ve to think he wouldn’t notice how tired I am.
I shake my head. Before I can say anything, he’s swept up into a conversation with Gideon and Omar.
‘By the way, we have to do a group project for English,’ says Henry, appearing out of nowhere at my elbow. ‘Emma, Sinclair and I took you into our group. Want to sit down and get started?’
I nod. ‘Yes, sure.’
‘How about tomorrow afternoon?’
‘Yeah, I’ve only got classes till half past two,’ I say, turning to one side. ‘Charlie?’ I ask.
He immediately turns to me. Before I can ask him, I realize I’ve never called him by his first name in front of the others before. Or if I have, it was only to be annoying. That occurs to me as Henry’s eyes dart in surprise between us, then take on a knowing expression.
‘Tomorrow, just after half past two, library, English presentation?’ he asks. Charlie nods. Henry smiles.
‘Perfect. See you then, Tori.’ He bites his bottom lip. ‘See you then, Charlie.’
‘Shut it,’ Charlie says, but the red in his cheeks takes the sharpness from his words.
‘Sorry,’ I murmur, once Henry’s gone.
Charlie shakes his head. ‘Just takes some getting used to.’
‘Would you prefer me to call you Sinclair in front of the others?’
‘No,’ he says, without a second’s hesitation.
‘OK.’
We leave the classroom. It’s not until the others have gone a few steps ahead of us down the corridor that Charlie pulls me aside.
‘About just now . . . I wasn’t sure. Do you want them to know?’
‘Do you?’ I ask.
Charlie studies me. ‘Yes, I think I do.’
‘Then I do too.’
‘Sure?’
‘They’ll notice soon enough anyway.’
‘God knows how Henry knew just now.’
I shrug. ‘Henry always knows everything.’
Charlie kisses me. Because I’ve got geography and he’s heading in the opposite direction.
Or that’s the plan, but we haven’t got far when I suddenly realize we’re being watched.
Valentine and some of his friends are coming round the corner, and his eyes are like daggers.
I go ice cold as I hear his scornful laugh.
Charlie’s stopped, and as Val walks right past us, there’s a moment when I’m scared they’ll pick up their pointless punch-up again. But Charlie just takes my hand.
I knew it would come: the moment Valentine Ward found out what’s happened between me and Charlie. And it feels every bit as dire as I’d been expecting.
‘Hey, you were right, man,’ I hear Neil say. ‘She’s straight on to the next one.’
I feel Charlie tense. I cling to his hand as he tries to tear himself away.
‘And I thought no one could beat Eleanor,’ Cillian adds. ‘You always go for the wrong chicks, Val.’
‘Don’t,’ I whisper, as Charlie glances at me.
There’s a threat sparkling in his blue eyes, but in the end he nods.
As I turn away, Val’s eyes are on me and, briefly, I make out something close to pain on his face.
In that instant, I understand that while he’s manipulative, toxic and mean, underneath that, he’s broken.
I remember Val doing push-ups in his childhood bedroom, after his mother reminded him that sport’s the only thing he’s good at.
It doesn’t justify the way he treated me, but it makes everything a tiny bit more bearable.
Because I’m sure he’s secretly yearning for something genuine, but can’t learn from anybody how to open up.
And, more importantly still – I know it’s not my job to teach him. It isn’t now, and it wasn’t then.
Val looks at me, his face hardening again. ‘Hey, it was never serious with her, lads,’ he says, and I know he’s trying to hurt me, but it doesn’t. I’m too far away from him.
I’m with Charlie.
I’m where I belong.
SINCLAIR
My rage at that fucker Valentine still hasn’t completely died down when I see Tori again in class after lunch.
I’d longed to deck him in the dining room, but we all know what would have happened then.
So I try to follow Tori’s example and ignore him.
It’s probably the most effective weapon against people like Valentine Ward, and I can feel it working.
He must be so angry that Tori ditched him and is with me now.
I’d feel happier if Tori would take it a bit easier, but she seems to think she has to be back in lessons at all costs. I can kind of understand her not wanting to get any further behind, but I wish she’d take the teachers’ advice and go back to bed.
Tori still doesn’t have much appetite, and as a result, she doesn’t have much energy either, so I’m not surprised that she’s fighting to keep herself awake in PSE after lunch.
‘Come on,’ I say quietly, as she lays her head on the desk instead of getting up after class.
‘My legs are like jelly,’ she mumbles.
‘Want me to carry you?’ I tease.
‘Don’t you dare.’ She straightens and sighs. ‘Why am I so tired?’
‘I think it might be because you were ill,’ I reply drily.
‘I have to get to rehearsal, Charlie.’
I frown. ‘First you have to get up to your room for study hour.’
‘Oh, yeah, right.’
I don’t say anything, just pick up Tori’s bag. By the look of her, it’ll be more like nap hour.
‘Does Mr Acevedo still check if you’re in your rooms?’ she asks, with a hopeful undertone.
‘Not usually. Does Ms Barnett?’
I can’t help smiling as she shakes her head.
‘So I could come to yours.’
‘You could.’
‘You have to test me on my French.’
I just nod, rather than arguing. Even if she wasn’t dead on her feet, there would be so many other things I’d rather spend this hour on than French vocab.
My sneaky brain keeps reminding me, way too often, of how it felt to lie beneath her on that hard stage.
Almost as often as it does of the fact that I’m eighteen and still a virgin.
Sooner or later, I’m going to have to tell Tori.
Or should I just act like I know what I’m doing and hope she doesn’t notice?
Today isn’t the day to have that conversation, though; I can see that even before Tori drops onto the bed in my room.
‘Tea?’ I ask, putting our bags down on the desk and turning back to her.
She nods, eyes shut, and wraps both arms around my pillow.
The boiling kettle and her breathing are the only sounds as I return to my room after rinsing out the two mugs.
A quick glance in her direction confirms that Tori’s fallen asleep.
She jumps as I set the tea down on the shelf next to the bed a few minutes later, and sit beside her.
‘Hi.’
‘I wasn’t asleep,’ she mumbles.
‘I know.’ I lean down and kiss her nose.
‘Again,’ she whispers, blinking. ‘Please.’
I have to smile. ‘You’re such a sleepy chicken.’
‘Don’t do that.’
‘What? Call you that?’
‘Yeah, that’s your nickname.’
‘You were scared of the hens too.’
‘No, I wasn’t.’ She opens her eyes to twinkle at me. ‘So kiss me, you chicken.’
‘I thought you wanted me to test you on your French?’
‘S’il vous pla?t,’ she sighs.
‘S’il te pla?t,’ I correct her. I can’t help it. Maybe I’ve been spending too much time with Henry.
‘D’you know how hot that is?’ she murmurs.
‘What, me correcting you?’
‘No. You speaking French.’
‘You’re so easy to impress.’
‘Say your favourite sentence,’ she asks. ‘Please.’
I have to laugh, then I clear my throat.
‘Je suis allé au cinéma avec ma famille et mes copains,’ I say.
It’s got me through a surprising number of French lessons with Ms Barnett.
I always get a good mark from her for speaking, even though I’ve answered the question of what we did at the weekend with the same story for years.
Tori gives a contented sigh and shuts her eyes again.
‘I’d go on, but it’s the only thing I know how to say.’
‘Don’t lie,’ she murmurs, as I prop myself up on my elbow beside her.
‘OK,’ is all I say, as I start to stroke her back.
It’s unfair of me, but she really needs some sleep.
Tori’s eyes stay shut and her face softens.
I smile as her lips part slightly. She hates it if I point this out, but when she’s really deeply asleep, she drools a bit.
I actually find it kind of cute, but that part doesn’t seem to get through to her.
And today ‘cute’ isn’t the word for my feelings as she lies beside me.
Her body is heavy and relaxed, and the quiet sigh that escapes her sets my blood boiling.