AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“That’s not what I was going to ask, sweetheart. Why didn’t you ask for help?”
It’s the wrong thing to say. Her eyes flare. She suddenly flings her leg out, kicking the half-empty can across the pavement. It clatters against the gravel, rolling to a stop a few feet away.
“Screw you,” she spits. “Don’t make this my fault. I did ask for help. I told my form teacher. I told the receptionist. I told the headteacher. I told the goddamn nurse every time I had to come in for an extra PE kit, because the guys liked pouring water down the front of my shirt. For God’s sake, Luke, do I seem like the kind of person who takes this stuff lying down?” She shakes her head. “I kicked up as much of a fuss as I possibly could. No one did anything. Anything. Hell, the head of year told me I should be grateful, because ‘when a boy picks on you like this, he’s clearly interested in you’. And then she called me a ‘slapper’ behind my back as I walked away.”
I stare at her, wide-eyed. “The head of year… Eveline told you that?”
She looks at me coolly, her eyes gleaming in the dark like a cat’s, like she’s daring me not to believe her.
I run a hand over my face. This is all my fault. If I’d been in a better state, I would have noticed something was wrong. I should’ve helped her. It was my job to keep the students safe. Jesus, no wonder Layla’s so prickly and defensive around men now; she’s used to them trying to hurt her.
She was sixteen, for God’s sake. Sixteen, and getting sexually harassed in school. “But why?” I ask, my voice breaking on the last word. “Why did the other kids pick on you like that? I don’t understand.”
She’s silent for a long, long time, staring up at the sky. “I don’t want to tell you,” she says eventually.
The words hit me like a brick wall.
All of my life, I’ve prided myself on being someone people can come to for help. When I was a teacher, I had kids traipsing in and out of my office all day, just to talk to me. It’s one of the reasons I like doing Three Single Guys. Giving advice is what I’m supposed to be good at.
But Layla doesn’t want to open up to me. Why the Hell would she? She was getting bullied for years, right under my nose, and I didn’t do anything to help her. I was her teacher, and I let her get hurt and harassed. I let her down.
My phone suddenly dings in my pocket. I stand up, my head spinning. “I… I need to make a call.” I mutter. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
***
THIRTY-TWO
***
LAYLA
Luke is gone for almost ten minutes, which I appreciate. I take some deep breaths, then wipe off my cheeks and pull open my clutch, looking for my compact mirror. By the time the door behind me opens again, I’m blotting my lipstick with a tissue, and I feel much steadier.
“I’m going home,” I tell Luke as he steps outside.
He nods. “If you can hang on a second, Josh will pick you up. I need to go do some damage control.”
I frown. “Is something wrong?” Is he just trying to get out of sharing a car with me?
He nods. “There’s been an issue with one of our merch shipments. The t-shirts have been printed in the wrong colours.” He rubs his eyes. He looks exhausted. “Zack and I are going to see if we can sort it out. Josh will take you home.”
“I can get the Tube myself…” I start to say, but before I can finish talking, a familiar silver car pulls up by the curb. My shoulders slump. Great. Someone else to witness how pathetic I am.
The car’s lights flash, and Josh opens the door, stepping out into the road. He looks like he came here in a hurry; his black hair is ruffled, and the collar of his dark coat is turned up. His concerned gaze immediately goes to me. My stomach crunches with embarrassment.
Josh slams the door shut and makes his way to me, but Luke waylays him, grabbing him by the shoulder and saying a few words in his ear.
I bristle. What is he saying about me? Take care of her. Make sure she’s okay. She’s upset.
Josh raises an eyebrow, then nods, turning to me and offering me a hand. “Let’s go home.”
“Why are you on babysitting duty?” I ask sullenly.
“I’m your boyfriend, aren’t I?”
“Josh.”
He sighs. “Because I’m the one least likely to treat you like a baby,” he answers, his voice flat. “Come on.”
