He’s pointing at my desk chair, and my heart drops into my stomach.
It must be Harrisford. It must have been Harrisford who dobbed me in. No one else knew about Percy. I’d taken such pains to keep him hidden, only letting him out before dawn. And if he’d stayed out, he knew to check that the coast was clear before sneaking back in through the window. Only Harrisford knew that he was there—and Heloise too, of course. But Heli has been with me all night, and Harrisford…
Fucking bastard.Not only did he have the audacity to flirt with some tart from the hospital in front of me, he’s also deemed it appropriate to casually destroy my life.
“Please,” I say, my voice thick. “Is he alive? Please, just let me know he’s safe.”
The professor’s lips thin. He doesn’t answer straightaway. I wait, holding my breath, trying not to be sick.
Eventually, he says, “The cat’s alive, Miss Chan. He’s been sent to the pound, something that should have occurred in the first place.”
The pound.My stomach unclenches, just slightly.
He’s alive.
Tears needle my eyes, threatening to erupt. “I just…couldn’t stand to see him euthanized, Professor. It was a mercy thing. I had…a moment of weakness. It won’t happen again, I promise. Ipromise. Please, just find a good home for him, and I willneverdo anything like this again.”
Professor Pickering regards me for several long and painful moments before finally, he sighs. “You’ve never been in trouble before, Miss Chan, and for this reason we’ll extend you some clemency.”
I let out a sigh, my shoulders sagging with relief.
“We’ve severed your human-familiar bond.”
I swallow, then nod. “I understand, Prof—”
“And,” he continues, cutting me off. “You’re suspended until further notice.”
For a moment, his words don’t fully make sense, and all I do is stare at him, numb.
But then it hits, like an axe cleaving open my chest. At last, I lose the battle against my tears, and when I blink, two of them detach and flash down my face.
If I’m suspended,now, right before exams, I won’t be able to continue accruing points. Which means that I’ll stall at the level I’m at, while Harrisford—
Anger rips through my body. Harrisford’s marks will continueclimbing, until they’ve eclipsed mine. Until that privileged, cologne-wearing, floppy-haired, strumpet-bedding git gets top marks and breezes through all his exams and fucking steals the top position from me.
“Suspended?” My voice catches in my throat; I can barely choke it out. My tears flow faster, thicker, as the significance of his words becomes clear.
Suspended.There’s seven years of wasted effort packed into that word. A lifetime of my parents’ hopes and dreams, crushed.
“Yes, Miss Chan. Suspended.” His cold, fishy eyes gleam behind his smudged wire glasses. “Unless, of course, you can obtain a permit to legally adopt the cat.”
33
Gwendolynne
Three days later, I’m slumped on my parents’ couch in our poky Manchester flat.
Professor Pickering had allowed me to stay one more night in my dorm room. But at first light on Saturday morning, I was forced to pack all my things and catch the train up north. According to Heloise, by Monday,everyonewas talking about whytheGwendolynne Chan was no longer attending classes.
It’s almost bedtime. My tea is cold—curry and chips from one of the takeaway joints a few doors down from my parent’s restaurant.
I have no idea where Percy is. My only solace is the fact that no one seems to have discovered that he once belonged to Nathaniel Price. But I don’t know how much longer it’ll remain a secret.
Heli has been trawling through animal rescue sites, sending me pictures of all the black cats. None of them are flea-bitten, one-eyed, or scruffy enough to be him, and all it does is compound my grief. At night, I cry myself to sleep hugging a pillow, alternately imagining it’s Percy…or Harrisford.
It’s shameful, but now that I’m more than three hundred kilometers away from London—and Seamere—I’ve recklessly allowed my Harrisford-related fantasies to run rampant. On more than oneoccasion I’ve fallen asleep, still shuddering from my self-induced orgasms, with images of Harrisford’s perfectly proportioned face crowding my muddled mind.
It feels okay to be imagining him, since I’ll probably never see him again. We’ll be enemies forever, after he betrayed me so badly, but soon enough the memories of him will fade to pale and shadowy echoes. And, surely, my hatred will eventually simmer down to a brooding sort of contempt.
