“No.” Rory shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I’m not in the mood for silly games anymore. You guys have fun without me.” He stands and leaves.
Fraser waits half a minute before following him.
“What was that about?” Hendrix asks.
“I don’t think that was a happy reunion,” Theo says, staring at the open doorway. He finishes his drink. “I think I’m out too. Sorry.”
Theo is the kind of person who reacts to the emotions of those around him. If someone else is down, he’ll pick up on it, and it will tank his mood. He and Preston both leave.
“And then there were three,” Hendrix says.
My phone buzzes.
Stefan:We’re here a few minutes early. I don’t think I’ve ever been so nervous in my life.
Quinn:Want to talk?
Stefan:Best not in case Mum arrives early. I love you.
Quinn:I love you too. I’m thinking of you.
Stefan:Thank you.
“Game over?” Hendrix says.
“I think so,” I reply.
He sighs. “We’d better clean up, hadn’t we?”
The three of us work together to wash everything up and put it away. By the time we’re done, it’s impossible to tell seven of us had been sitting around the table drinking mocktails and playing a game.
“I had fun, thanks, Hendrix. You helped take my mind off things.” I’m not sure what I’m going to do to pass the time until I hear from Stefan again, but I’m grateful for the temporary diversion.
“You’re welcome.”
“Did you really get straight A stars in your exams?” Rubin asks.
Hendrix winks. “Never have I ever lied during a game of Never Have I Ever.”
22
STEFAN
Waiting for Mum to arrive is like being a kid, waiting to be seen by the dentist. Neither of us is doing a good job of staying relaxed. Beau and I talked about trivial stuff on the train ride to Oxford, both ignoring the massive elephant in the room. Now we’re at the coffee shop Mum chose to meet us in, and time is ticking by slowly.
“She should have been here five minutes ago,” Beau says.
“I’m sure she’s just running a bit late.”
The sinking feeling in my stomach says otherwise. What if she’s decided not to turn up?
The coffee shop is gradually getting busier. There’s a steady stream of traffic and pedestrians passing by the window. Cyclists whiz by in dedicated lanes. Oxford city centre has a bustling, old-town feel about it. It’s the kind of place you’d see on postcards or in movies. Somewhere close by is the pub that J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis used to meet in. Part of me wants to give up on waiting and go and have a drink there, perhaps find the haunts of other famous authors that lived here or the locations from fiction books set here. At least it would give us a reason for travelling to Oxford.
“Do you want another coffee?” Beau asks.
I shake my head. If I drink any more coffee, I’ll be bouncing off the walls. I’m trying to stay composed.
“How long are we going to wait?”
