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“Mr Ambrose won’t care—I’m sure of it, he’ll—”
“Spearcrest Academy isn’t a charity, Zach. You’re not naive. Mr Ambrose might well wish to be generous, to let me back into Spearcrest, but he’s not free to do whatever he likes. He has governors to answer to.”
Zachary watches me, and then he sits down in the window seat with a sigh, leaning down to rest his elbows on his thighs.
He looks at me and speaks brusquely. “I know you won’t want me to say it, but— ”
“Then don’t say it,” I interrupt.
“I have to. We’re both thinking it anyway.”
“No, we’re not. I don’t want anything from you.”
“I’m not offering you anything. But my parents—my father didn’t go through the trouble of threatening legal and political action against your father out of pure altruism, Theodora. My parents like you—they seem to think you…” He meets my gaze and shakes his head as if he’s deciding to not finish his sentences. “My parents would help you in a heartbeat.”
“I don’t want their help either.”
“Then let me lend you the money, for god’s sake.”
“You’d never let me pay you back.”
He doesn’t deny this. He widens his eyes at me in frustration.
“You’re really going to give up, to let all your hard work go to waste—because of your pride?”
“Mypride?” I laugh out loud. “If you hope to provoke me into doing what you want, Zach, you’ll have to try harder than that.”
“You’re not the poor little matchstick girl dying in the cold, Theodora.” His voice is hard. “This isn’t a fairy tale, and you’re not the helpless, tragic victim. The help you need is being offered to you—if you refuse it, then you’re the one victimising yourself.”
“I never claimed to be a helpless, tragic victim,” I retort. “I’m not sitting out in the cold waiting to die. I’m going to get a job, apply as an external candidate to a local college, sit my exams—and go to university, just like I always wanted to do. You’re the only one who sees me as a victim in all this.”
He stands up suddenly, his hands curled into fists at his side.
“And what about the Apostles programme?”
“That’s the only thing you care about, isn’t it?” I say. “The Apostles programme and winning. That victory you’ve always coveted, that trophy you want to hold up so that everybody will know you’ve bested me.”
“Yes, you’re right. I’m not too proud to admit the truth.” The muscles in his jaw jump as he clenches his teeth. He straightens his clothes, fixing his shirt and tie the way he would always do when he stood up in debate club to present his closing arguments. “Don’t come back to Spearcrest for me, don’t come back because you want to, don’t come back for charity or because I love you. Come back as a business exchange—I give you something you need, you give me something I want.”
“What do you want?”
“I want my fucking victory. I’ve worked too hard and too long for it. You don’t want to take my money—then trade me. I’ll pay for your final term in Spearcrest, and in exchange, you come back, catch up with the assignments you’ve missed, and we see this through. And when I’m finally holding that figurative trophy you speak of, when I finally get to shout from the rooftops that I’ve bested you at last, then you’ll know the debt is paid, and you never need to do anything for me ever again.” He stands in front of me and sticks his hand out imperiously. “Do you accept?”
I look into his eyes, the blazing intensity there, the bleak, joyless conviction. Taking his hand in mine, I shake it in a formal motion.
“I accept.”
ReturningtoSpearcrestislike returning to a place from a dream, except that this time, I’m awake.
Spring has finally arrived: the deciduous trees have all sprouted fresh new leaves and blankets of croci, bluebells and daffodils spread over the hills and fields of the campus. The turrets and spires pierce a sky blue as a robin’s egg, and the windows catch the sunlight like the facets of diamonds. It’s a beautiful sight, straight out of a fairy tale.
Except that it’s real, and it feels real.
I never realised, all these years, how much life felt like a waking dream. How I floated from class to class, never fully aware.
But I’m awake now, and everything strikes me anew. The beauty of the campus, the fragrance of grass and flowers and fresh earth in the air, the majesty of the halls and corridors and pillars of Spearcrest.
Even my friends, the girls I’d spent so much time with without ever letting them close, seem different in my new awakened state. I notice, for the first time, how happy Rose seems. She’s dating a boy from Fernwell, apparently, and there’s a new ease to her. Camille, whom I’d never seen as anything more than an outrageous flirt, spends most of her time studying. I never noticed before how hard she works. And Kayana, the carefree, glittering party girl, has an edge of sadness to her that was invisible to me until now.
