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Elliot: It’s fine, I promise. Meet me at seven? Wear something pretty. Just for me.
Abigail: I’ll be there.
Elliot: Such a good girl for me. See you at seven. E
Panic overtakes me as I realise I have less than an hour to get ready and nothing to wear.
God, I wish I could call Tally and ask for her advice. But there’s no time and I don’t know if they all know yet. I’m guessing they don’t if Elliot is still at his parents’ house.
Still, I feel giddy as I sift through my wardrobe trying to find something to wear. There isn’t much to work with, but I do find a pretty dark green sweater dress that contrasts my hair and complements my pale skin. I wouldn’t exactly call it sexy, but it hugs my slim figure and looks nice with my black ankle boots and black jacket.
After dusting my eyes with a bit of smoky eyeshadow and glossing my lips, I don’t give myself any time to overthink things and head out to my car.
Thankfully, no one is around to question where I’m going at this hour all dressed up. Not that anyone apart from a Millie talks to me in the building.
The drive through Saints Cross takes me less than fifteen minutes and another five to find somewhere to park near the pub.
I’ve never done this before. Gone into town to go to a pub. But unsurprisingly, I’m more nervous about seeing Elliot than I am at the thought of walking into a busy pub.
I half-expect the entire place to turn my way when I step inside, but no one pays me any attention as I scan the room, immediately spotting Elliot in one of the booths lining the wall.
I smile, the knot in my chest unravelling with every step as I move in his direction, desperate to see him. Nervous but excited to be taking the next step in our fledgling relationship.
But I ground to a halt when I realise he isn’t alone.
A beautiful blonde leans into him, laughing at whatever he just said, and the ground goes from under me.
No.
No.
I don’t understand.
He invited me here.
I stand in the middle of the pub surrounded by laughter and chatter but all I hear is the roar of blood between my ears as I watch them.
They look perfect together. Beautiful and wealthy. Elliot’s arm rests along the back of the booth, toying with her hair.
Vomit churns in my stomach, rushing up my throat and I have to clasp a hand over my mouth.
I need to go.
God, I need to get out of here before?—
“Ah, there you are. We’ve been expecting you.” A hand clamps on my arm and starts dragging me toward the booth. “Elliot is going to be so happy to see you. Look who I found,” the man says before I can figure out what the hell is going on.
“Scott, what— Abi.” Elliot’s expression falters for a split second before his stone-cold mask slides into place.
“Abi?” the blonde asks. “Who the fuck is Abi?”
“This is Elliot’s friend from All Hallows’ isn’t that right, little brother?”
“What are you doing here?” Elliot asks coldly, and I barely recognise this boy in front of me.
This isn’t my Elliot.
It isn’t him at all.
