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I spear the last fry triumphantly onto my fork. “I know I said journalism… but now I don’t know.” I gaze at the crispy coating shining with grease. “I don’t get how you can be independent, unbiased,andfinancially stable.”
“We have money.” Finlay pauses, and then amends, “Roryhas money. But I have leads. It can work, sassenach. We can make it happen for ye.”
“And how do I avoid ending up like Nicola Miller?”
“Ah, noo that’s the bigger question.” He shakes his head. “I’ll never forgive the Scottish government for handin’ her over. Never. Utter traitors. A shower o’ shite. Startin’ tae think my maw’s just the tip o’ the iceberg and Holyrood’s full o’ corrupt halfwits. Money comes and it goes, but yer freedom… Naw. Dinnae ever put a price on that.”
Freedom. It’s Finlay’s lifeblood. It’s the quality he craves most of all, whether by escaping school to live in the city or believing in self-determination for his country. Nicola Miller may be my new role model, but right now she’s trapped, a political prisoner whose ability to expose corruption has been brutally curtailed.
Slowly, Finlay asks me, “Do you still have the dreams?”
“About the…?”
“The guy.”
It’s a vague, cagey euphemism, but I say, “Yeah.”
“Same.” His words are a soft confession, an admission of unwanted empathy. “It’s been weeks noo, and I cannae get him oot ma heid.”
“It’s probably a good thing,” I tell Finlay, united as we are by the trauma of that night. “Means we’ll never forget the price of a human life, no matter what side they’re on.” Antiro’s side certainly didn’t seem to give a crap when killing the Queen.
Finlay looks thoughtful as he considers my words. “Aye. Maybe.”
“We should head back,” I murmur. “Who knows — Baxter might have sent out a search party.”
Finlay almost laughs. He meets my gaze with an ironic twist to his lips, both of us knowing it’d be the kind of thing that could only indicate we’re living in an alternate universe.
46
Turns out Baxter hadn’t noticed we’d vanished, unlike the other chiefs. Finlay and I manage to sneak out of the rain, both of us soaked to the skin, and take turns waiting indoors for Baxter to come through and chastise me more. From down the hall, I manage to catch Rory’s eye and give him a thumbs up. He and Danny, who also notices me, appear extremely concerned, more so than I’ve ever felt.
“She’s comin’,” Finlay mutters in warning from the bottom of the staircase, and I slip back outside into the lessening rain as Finlay runs upstairs, crouching to hide.
Just as I’m getting used to being out in the freezing air again, rubbing away the goosebumps decorating my skin, Baxter opens the door behind me. “We’re leaving,” she snaps, crisp and crystal-clear, storming past me in the direction of our coach. She jerks her thumb toward it, the driver returned, and says, “In.”
I take it for accidental kindness, diving into the warmth to stop myself from shivering. Baxter follows me as I settle into one of the middle seats, her black eyes full of contempt as she watches me drag the seatbelt over myself. I try looking away, but the windows are still blurry from the rain.
“This will be the last time you embarrass my school in front of others,” Baxter murmurs in a calm, steely voice that instantly puts me on edge. “We had planned a celebration by treating all students to a nice relaxing meal out. You willnotbe joining us. Instead, food will be sent up to your room to keep you out of trouble. I advise you to take this time to study hard and brush up on your manners.”
I say nothing. What was the point of me even coming here if I’m going to spend it trapped indoors? I see no difference between here and Lochkelvin other than the scenery out the window.
Baxter glares at me, as though expecting some kind of lip-trembling response. But I’m not a first year and I don’t surrender.
“Don’tyou have anything to say for yourself?”
Eventually, I ask, “Will I still be going to the castle tomorrow?” I’d been at least a little curious about it. A ruined castle atop a rock sounds pretty cool. “And the Burns supper?” I’ve still to attend a Burns supper. It’d be nice if I could attend one to round off my experience in Scotland.
“That remains to be seen. However, I see no value in dragging you all the way here to lock you indoors, but the first taste of freedom I give you and you’re screaming at important guests like a common hooligan. You have destroyed any trust I may have misplaced in you. Did you even bother to apologize?”
“Did you even hear what she said?”
“No, and I don’t have to. Because the world will always be full of people saying things you don’t like, that you’ll personally be offended by, and kicking off the way you did today is not how you, or any other Lochkelvin student, is primed to navigate it.”
I stare at the floor. For some reason, this above all her other criticisms of me, hits the hardest. Because she’s right. I should have kept my cool, not lost my temper. You don’t change minds by yelling. Hadn’t the whole world mocked Arabella for exactly that? For refusing to keep a firm grip on her emotions, for letting her ego and her demand to be right run riot? I’m no better than her.
“Any outbursts like today and you will be sent straight back to Lochkelvin on a horse and cart if need be. Do I make myself clear?”
Grudgingly, I nod.
