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By the end of the week, I can very nearly convince myself that Ellie wasn’t almost raped by Callum Murray and Ryan Mason, and that I didn’t break four of his ribs and his nose to stop it. Then I clench my hand in anger and it aches from the swelling, and the reality of it all seeps back in.
The final bell rings on Friday and I hang back so Ellie can get a head start home before I follow her, just like I have every day since she showed up here five days ago. I pull my bag up on my shoulder and head for the front door of the school, but a hand on my arm holds me back.
“Oi! Where are you going?” I turn and see Dax staring at me with a look that says he thinks I’ve gone completely mental.
Annoyed, I crane my neck around him to see if Ellie is out of sight yet. Thank God, she’s still outside talking to another girl.
“You’re a twisted fuck,” Dax laughs, following my line of sight and spotting Ellie. “How many days are you going to stalk her, mate? Better yet, how many girls have you turned down since meeting her even though you haven’t gotten in her kn
ickers?”
“Shut it!” I yank my arm away from Dax’s tight grip and frown. I’ve turned down a lot of girls. Girls that I once found attractive, I’m suddenly finding pushy and annoying. I hadn’t realized he noticed.
“Well, make it quick. We have to practice with your fucked up hand to get ready for tomorrow. Don’t forget, our usual place at six.” Dax whirls around and leaps down the front steps of the school, laughing until he’s out of earshot.
When I get to my crap flat an hour later, I dump my stuff on the mattress in my room and grab my guitar and notebook. Ellie hung out in front of the school talking to that girl for nearly twenty minutes before she started for home, so now I’m going to be late to practice and Dax is going to kill me.
“You’re la-aate!” a voice sings out from the open basement window of an abandoned business near Dax’s flat.
“Shut your gob,” I toss back as I slither through the grimy opening and drop to the floor, turning to tug my battered guitar case through the hole.
Dax doesn’t answer. Instead, he strums his guitar, humming along wordlessly to some random tune he plucks out off the top of his head. This is where Dax and I fit together perfectly, songwriting. We both have this weird ability to complete each other’s thoughts. I’ll start on a melody, and he’ll bring it somewhere I’m not expecting. He’ll think up a few lyrics, and I’ll finish them perfectly. It always comes out brilliant in the end.
I pull out the beat up old acoustic guitar that I bought second hand after scrounging up money for months doing odd jobs here and there for my older brother, Danny. Jobs I’d rather not think about, except every time I run my calloused fingers over the strings it reminds me of how fucked up my family is.
“Does it hurt?” Dax has stopped playing to watch me carefully, a concerned look on his face.
“Of course it fucking hurts, but I’m not going to let it stop me. Let’s do this.”
We play for hours as I jot down the melodies and lyrics that we come up with in my notebook, erasing and fine-tuning until we’re satisfied. My stupid hand is throbbing and protesting the repetitive movements as it dances over the neck of the guitar, creating the only thing that brings me happiness in this pitiful excuse for a life.
The only thing until I met the gorgeous Ellie Palmer.
chapter 4
Ellie
Adam and I haven’t said a single word to each other since he beat up Callum three weeks ago. At first, it was too embarrassing to face him after letting myself get into that situation. Then, when he didn’t say anything about it, I decided it must be because I foolishly kissed him, and he didn’t want to lead me on. I mean, clearly, he’s not interested.
He’s so good looking that he can have any girl in the school. Hell, I’ve seen girls approaching him and heard the gossip, he probably has had every girl in the school. Except me, and that’s what hurts the most, the outright lack of interest on his part.
Would I allow myself to be one of his conquests? I’m not sure. Certainly he’s used to girls with more experience than me, which is none. But getting to be that close to him, kissing and touching, well, it has me seriously considering it even though the idea is just mental.
It’s been difficult, making a conscious decision to not stare at him every chance I get even though my body seems to know where he is at all times. It practically vibrates whenever he’s nearby, like there’s an electric charge between us. That’s stupid though, I’m sure he’s already forgotten about the idiot girl who walks through an abandoned lot with a boy she doesn’t know.
“Ellie!” I turn from my open locker to find my new best friend Kate barreling down the hall towards me, fully kitted out in her footy uniform, cleats and all.
“What? Why are you running?” I take in her disheveled appearance, her cheeks red and her breathing rapid and strained.
Kate has been my best, and really my only friend since starting at this school. Tall and athletic, with shoulder-length brown hair, she has the unfortunate fate of living in the same shoddy building as me. She’s lucky though. Not only does our school have one of the only girl’s football teams in the area, but she’s so talented that she’ll most likely get a very rare scholarship to play football for an American university. That means no more crappy council flat for her after this year.
She also tends to be a bit on the dramatic side.
“Good, you haven’t left yet,” she huffs, her chest heaving from the exertion.
I eye her suspiciously, “Aren’t you supposed to be a top athlete? Why are you all out of breath?”
Kate laughs, her high ponytail swinging behind her, brightening the dingy hallway enough to make me forget how dreadful it is here. “I ran all the way from the outdoor football pitch. I’m supposed to be at practice, but I wanted to catch you first. A few girls on the team were talking and said they’re going out tonight to see a new band that they heard is pretty hot. Come with us.” She smiles hopefully, waiting for my response.
