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“An appendectomy?” I repeat bluntly. “He had his appendix taken out?”
“Yes. I don’t know how Daddy will cope without it.”
I sigh heavily, pulling Freya back up so she can fix my currently lopsided hair. “Appendectomies aren’t the end of the world. I’m sure he’ll be okay.”
Freya resumes her styling, but her scissors don’t cut quite as confidently anymore. “I’ve had a lot on my mind recently,” she begins quietly. “What with my dad, and his work, and the whole Lochkelvin thing.” She sniffles. “I feel like I’ve been out of it. Everyone expects so much from me, yet school is harder than ever. It’s like trying to fight my way uphill through constant avalanches.”
It’s weird, but as I sit in the chair, withFreyaof all people cutting my hair, I don’t think I’ve related to anyone’s words like this before.
“You have Arabella,” I point out. “You have friends you can hang out with.”
I try not to say the last part bitterly.
Freya nods slowly, like she’s only just realized this. “I do. My friends are the best.” She begins to slice at my hair again. “What do you do to relax, Jessa? Are you and Danny—”
“No.” I sigh. “Danny and I — we’re nothing. Just friends.” More like partners in battle against the rest of this crazy school, but let’s keep it simple for now.
“So how do you chill? Have fun?” Her mouth lifts up, almost a grimace. “You’ve had a rubbish time at Lochkelvin so far. Everyone can see that. So there must be something you do.”
“I…” I close my mouth and then open it again, looking like an incredibly surprised fish. “I like to dance.”
I don’t know why I say it. I don’t know why it just falls from my lips. Maybe it’s a form of compensation: a piece of my inner world, in return for trashing hers.
But Freya begins to stare at me — atme, in my bland Lochkelvin uniform — like she’s never seen me before.
“You’re a dancer? What kind of dance?”
I lick my lips. “All kinds. Mainly contemporary.” It’s mumbled. I’m not sure Freya even hears me properly. This feels too weird, unveiling my soul to Freya of all people. It’s the key to my past. The key to my greatest fear, and I’m justhandingFreya that key like it’s nothing? Like it’s not something I’ve tried to keep hidden from the rest of the world?
Lochkelvin had been a new start. Scotland had been a new start.
I don’t need to revisit the past.
I don’t need to share my history with people who don’t give a fig about me.
“You should dance at the talent show,” Freya says, sounding weirdly excited.
I blanch.What?
“I assure you, I really shouldn’t.”
“Why not?”
Because of a thousand reasons I can’t just blurt out to Freya.
Because of the video that’s contained on Rory’s phone.
The past is a cruel mistress, and our minds never let us forget her.
“I’m just saying… Apparently the talent show is meant to be really good here. The bill’s usually packed because there are talent scouts who come up from the London agencies, and obviously everyone wants their own agent by the time they leave school.” She smiles. “I’d like to sing but I’m not sure I’m good enough — something boys probably don’t even think about before getting on stage.”
Talent scoutsmakes this sound like a much bigger deal than I thought.
“The boys hate us,” I mutter miserably, flexing my toes against the floor. “Why would we do anything to show we exist?”
“Because wedoexist. And maybe we have to bash them over their stupid heads to make them realize that.”
I stare at her. She’s in a fighting mood. “In which case, you should sing.”
