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“He just needs to go and see her. She’s doing better,” Tally says, making my chest tighten.
Is she though? Or is she just getting better at hiding it?
Hitching my bag up on my shoulder, I pull the front door open, closing it quietly behind me so they don’t know I was listening.
The bitterly cold night has turned into a fresh, sunny spring morning. If things were different, I might even appreciate how pretty campus looks with dewy grass and the first buds of spring poking their heads up. But as it is, I barely see any of it.
The second the Bronte Building comes into view, my eyes climb to the top floor, to the dark window I know she’s hiding behind.
Abi might have turned up to classes this week, but she’s been far from present. I’ve watched her in the class we share. She’s looked like she’s doing the work, but she’s acting, pretending that everything is okay.
Just like I am.
I stand there for a few minutes, waiting to see if she’s going to appear. But there’s no movement or even a light turning on.
The temptation to go up there is strong, but she’s made it clear that she’s no longer interested in anything I have to offer her.
Ripping my eyes away from the building, I head toward the main sixth form building and then make a beeline for the very back of the library where I can hide and study. Or at least, that’s the hope. I’ve barely been able to focus on anything for days.
The library is deserted, even Miss Sanders is nowhere to be seen.
It’s perfect.
Stuffing my AirPods in my ears, I get settled and flip open a book.But despite having lines of text in front of me, things I need to go over in order to even attempt to deliver what Dad expects of me, I don’t really see any of them.They might as well be swirling around the page for how easy they are to read.
Hanging my head, I squeeze my eyes closed and try to find some… Well, something.
I don’t even know what it is I need right now.
But the second my phone starts ringing, I discover exactly what I don’t need.
“Dad,” I hiss the second the call connects.
“Well, you sound like a delight this morning.”
“I’m studying. Did you need something?”
“Good to hear you’re working hard and not expecting those grades to fall into your lap.”
I’ve no clue where he gets the idea that I might even remotely think that. All I’ve done my whole life is work my arse off to try and be as good at everything as he thinks he should be. Nothing in my life has ever just ‘fallen into my lap’ as he puts it.
“I’m doing my best,” I grunt, his voice making my skin prickle with disgust and irritation.
“Make sure you do. I’m not having you go off to Saints Cross U with anything less than your brother achieved.”
I make some intelligible noise in response.
If anyone knows about things falling in their lap, then it’s Scott Eaton. Everything he’s ever wanted has been handed to him on a platter.And I’ve had to sit back and watch it happen all the while busting my arse to achieve the same.
“Was that all you wanted?” I ask.
It wouldn’t be the first time he’s called just to berate me about my life, but there is usually a request for something thrown in for good measure.
“Your presence is required Friday night for dinner.”
My heart sinks further with every word he says.
“Where?” I ask.
