Chapter 23
Henry
It’s a mystery to me how I made it back to my wing on time. Emma and I woke up early, just before the sun came up, but we still had a lot of kissing to do before I made it out of bed.
My lips feel sore. They’re throbbing as I see Emma again in the dining room after the morning run.
I’d like to be the cup she’s sipping from.
She glances at me over the rim, and I feel warm again.
She looks tired, but it seems to me that she’s kind of radiant too.
Maybe only I can see that. No idea. Either way, I love it.
Sitting in English, spending the whole lesson looking at the back of her neck, is torture.
I didn’t know that a body and skin could take up such a vast amount of space in my thoughts, but everything’s a bit different with Emma.
During biology, I’m thinking about where I could kiss her later.
I don’t mean where we’d go; I mean where on her body.
There are so many places left for me to kiss.
It’s overwhelming. I can’t think about it all without my trousers getting too tight, so I force my attention back to meiosis and mitosis.
I’m not in very good shape for Ms. Barnett’s test, which is coming up, but there we are.
Sinclair shakes his head as he sits down beside me in Latin.
“What?” I ask.
“Congrats” is all he says.
“What?” I repeat.
“Henry, it’s obvious. D’you two think nobody’s noticed the way you’re looking at each other?”
I just smile.
“God, he’s in love,” says Sinclair with a sigh.
Fortunately, he doesn’t have the chance to ask any tricky questions. Ms. Barnett shuts the door and hands out the test papers. Somehow, there’s still quite a lot of information in my head, and I hand mine in before anyone else.
As I wait outside for Sinclair, I look at my phone and see a message from Maeve.
M: Sorry! I’ve only just got Wi-Fi again. Everything OK?
H: Yes, how’s it going?
She’s online and starts typing back right away.
My intention of not dumping my love troubles on her failed a few days ago when she sent me a couple of memes and asked how I was doing.
I dropped a few hints and asked her if she’d have time for a chat, but Maeve wouldn’t be Maeve if she hadn’t immediately figured out that something was up.
M: Yeah, fine, all good. Why’s it so hot in Kenya?
H: Dunno, I always forget that part too. Say hi to Mum and Dad
M: Will do, and hi back! Henry, what did you want to talk about?
H: Nothing urgent
M: Grace?
I type on because it’s no use trying to hide anything from Maeve.
H: We split up.
M: Oh, no :( Have some big-sister hearts . . . Sorry I didn’t answer. Want to speak now?? I could call you in 5 minutes but not for long, sorry, got to head back to the hospital in a bit.
H: No, it’s all good! Honest, I’m fine.
M: Are you sure?
H: Emma and I kissed
M: I see . . . Want to Skype at the weekend? You have to tell me everything.
H: Sure
M: Unless you’re in Loveland with Emma. In which case, don’t let me disturb you
H: Ha ha
M: I want to meet her, got that?
H: As soon as you’re back. She’s coming on the open day
M: Perfect. Are you happy, Henny?
I have to smile.
H: Yeah, pretty much
M: Excellent. I have to go
H: Take care
M: Always do
I pocket my phone as I hear the first footsteps in the corridor.
Soon after that, the bell rings for the end of the lesson.
The classroom doors open, we all flood out, and it’s ridiculous how happy I am.
Emma and Tori emerge from a room at the end of the hall; Tori’s chattering on, Emma nods a couple of times.
Her eyes scan the hall and find me right away.
“How did it go?” she asks as the two of them come to join me.
“Not bad.”
“Which means very good,” remarks Tori.
I just shrug and can’t help watching Emma’s lips. Would she mind me kissing her now? Here in front of everyone else? I don’t know if I’m the one who ought to decide, but perhaps she’d find it hot too if I just . . .
Her gaze slips from my eyes to my mouth, and yeah, why am I even still thinking about this?
She only looks surprised for the first moment as I take a step toward her and kiss her.
She seems OK with it. I’m OK with it too.
Very much OK. This is no lame hi-how-are-you-fine-how-are-you kiss.
Somehow, it’s impossible to kiss Emma like that. I always have to kiss her properly.
“Er, guys, what did I miss?”
Emma just rolls her eyes as Tori starts squealing beside us.
“Oi, stop that right now, or I’ll have to inform my mother that there is improper physical contact going on here,” says Sinclair, but he’s grinning.
Emma laughs, and it’s the most beautiful sound on this whole bloody planet. Help, I need a bucket of cold water. A slap in the face would work too, I think.
Which I get as I look over Emma’s shoulder. Right into Grace’s eyes. It feels like all my blood has drained down into my legs.
It’s only for a very brief moment as her gaze rests on us, but it’s enough, and I feel terrible.
Her fingers tighten around the strap on her bag, she forces a smile to her lips, and turns away.
She disappears between small groups of pupils, who are nodding discreetly in our direction and whispering.
It doesn’t surprise me. We’ll be the main topic of conversation at this school for a few days more, then Valentine Ward will start dating someone else and nobody will still be talking about Emma and me.
All the same, part of me wants to go after Grace and apologize to her. But we’re not a couple now.
“Henry?” I jump as Emma takes my hand. She seems not to have spotted Grace.
“Hm?” I look at her. “Sorry, I . . . What were you saying?”
“I was asking if you want to go for a run later. You don’t have training today, do you?”
“Not till tomorrow.”
“I see.” Emma’s smiling but her eyes are skeptical. “Or aren’t you in the mood?”
“Sure,” I say at once, forcing myself to banish all thoughts of Grace.
“Sinclair!” Gideon yells down the corridor. “Is your mum coming to the parents’ evening next week?”
“Piss off, Attwell.” He sticks his middle finger up at him, at least until Ms. Barnett walks out of the classroom with her pile of test papers.
“Is your mum coming?” I ask Emma. Maybe she’ll take the chance to make up for the missed visit.
And Emma’s nodding. “Yeah, and she’s staying for the weekend.”
“Oh, nice.”
“Your parents won’t be coming though, right?”
“No, definitely not. It’s way too far. But they’ll have a video appointment—there are loads of parents who can’t come in person.”
“Don’t tell my mum that, or she might change her mind again.”
Although that was clearly meant to sound ironic, I can hear the pain and hint of fear in her voice.
I don’t like it. I’m angry with the people who’ve let her down.
She doesn’t deserve that. She doesn’t deserve to be made to feel like a burden.
Which Emma believes she is. She really does.
Why wouldn’t she, after her shithead father just walked out, then made such a dick of himself when they met up again?
At the same time, I know it wouldn’t do any good for me to try to convince her otherwise. She has to realize for herself before she can believe it. But maybe I can at least help with that part a bit.
Emma
I only knew how much I’d missed Mum when I cried for sheer relief as she stepped out of the taxi onto the courtyard and I could finally hug her again.
The part of me that’s been confronted with a whole bunch of disappointment lately had been refusing to look forward too much to her visit.
Pure self-preservation in case it didn’t work out, I guess. But it did.
Although she’s only staying a couple of days, Mum’s got a massive suitcase with her. It’s filled with the things I’ve asked her for in the last few weeks. Now, all at once, I’ve got a kettle, my own bedding, and a new string of lights.
Mum’s constantly darting around here and there, all bright eyes. I can feel how pleased she is to be back at Dunbridge Academy.
“Who are we seeing first?” she asks as we head back downstairs a little later.
“Mr. Ward.” Mum flinches almost imperceptibly, but I see it. “Maths and English.”
“OK.” She clears her throat quietly. “Mr. Ward. Who else?”
“Ms. Ventura, Ms. Kelleher, and Mr. Ringling.”
As we walk toward the classrooms, we meet other parents.
It’s just a parents’ evening, but it’s almost like a special occasion.
But maybe that’s only because we’re all in school uniform.
Including Henry, of course, who’s standing at the foot of the stairs in his role as school captain, next to Mr. Harper, the secretary, looking outrageously good.
Henry glances at us as we come closer. He smiles his school-captain smile, looks away, then right back at us again.
His lips form a soundless “Hi.” I wonder how inappropriate it would be to kiss him now and decide on very. So I just stop and turn to my mum.
“Mum, this is Henry.”
“Nice to meet you, Ms. Beck,” he says at once, holding out his hand.
He remembered. I’d mentioned it once, but of course he remembered that my mum has a different surname from me.
“Oh, Henry!” Mum exclaims. “You’re Henry! How nice! It’s lovely to meet you too.”
It’s weird hearing Mum speak English again.
Like she used to with my dad. I know that she still has to speak English for work almost every day, but I only hear it now and then on holiday.
And it’s the first time I’ve really taken in that Henry and I don’t speak German to each other.
English is just so normal now that I simply forget.
“Did you have a good journey?”
I’m sure it’s not the first time Henry’s asked that question today, but somehow, he manages to sound genuinely interested.
“Yes, thank you. It’s a little bit like coming home.”
“Oh, yes, you were at school here too, weren’t you?” His eyes meet mine. “Emma told me that. We’re doing two of the same A levels.”