“I was scared. I’ve missed so many lessons. I didn’t want to fail maths too. I know I’m borderline on the grades. And there’s the uni application.”
“Yes, there is, Henry.” Mrs.Sinclair sounds firm as she rests both hands on her desk and leans forward slightly. “This is about your future, about university places. And I will have to make note of your deception. Worse than that, I’ve only just had to give you a warning. Do you understand what that means?”
I can only nod.
“And I would be prepared to overlook a minor incident, but cheating will not be tolerated at this school. This is breaking my heart, Henry, but I’m afraid you’ve left me no choice.”
I break out into a cold sweat.
I’m school captain. I’m her son’s best friend. I’ve lost my sister.
Surely she can’t...
But Henry, what were you thinking? That you could get away with anything? That the rules don’t apply to you?
Mrs.Sinclair eyes me, shakes her head in disbelief, and straightens up.
“Henry, I have to suspend you from classes at Dunbridge Academy until further notice.”
33
Henry
There are heaps of things that scare me. Illness, death, losing someone close to me. Being alone. Downtime, having nothing major to do. And apparently, being kicked out of school is another.
Mrs.Sinclair’s face is serious as I slowly stand up. Her voice echoes in my head.
I have to suspend you from classes at Dunbridge Academy until further notice.
Go upstairs, pack, clear my room. I want to wake up from this nightmare.
“I’m sorry,” I say, although that isn’t actually what I mean. It absolutely isn’t. It’s capitulation of the worst kind, because I have no choice.
My voice has never sounded as flat. As if I didn’t care what this means right now, when the opposite is true. I do care. I care more than anything.
What have you done, what have you done, what have you done?
The right thing. It was the right thing. Wasn’t it? A moment ago, I’d been sure of that, but now I’m overcome by doubts.
I turn around. I grab the heavy black iron doorknob. I don’t know how my legs carry me. I don’t know how I push open the door and walk out of the head teacher’s office without losing my composure. I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.
I hear the voices in the corridor, the laughter that echoes off the high walls. The sounds of rapid footsteps on the old, uneven tiles in the arcaded walkways. Sunbeams fall through the panes of the lancet windows; dust glitters in the air.
Faces turn toward me, my fellow pupils smile at me, say hi, the same as ever, and I don’t reply because I can’t. I run blindly past them. I have to get away, but I don’t know where to go. I no longer have a home.
The thought hits me like a punch in the belly, but it’s true. For a moment, I feel the need to stop and curl up. But I keep on running.
My feet fly over the tiles, taking routes I could walk with my eyes shut. Across the courtyard to my dorm wing, brown-brick facades covered with twining ivy. High lattice windows, dark roofs, pointed towers. I see it all but feel nothing. Coming toward me down the worn stairs from the first floor are the fourth-formers; they slow as they recognize me, then run all the faster once they’re past. The heavy, dark wooden door to our wing is shut. I have to lean my whole weight against it as I reach for the key in my trouser pocket and open it, then my bedroom door.
Silence.
And then I pull my suitcase from beside the wardrobe and start packing.
Emma
I walk down the corridor, and everything is a grotesque repeat of that moment weeks ago now. When Henry had learned that his sister was dead, and he was in his room, packing. Just like he is now, according to his text. When the bell went for break, I immediately headed for the east wing.
“Henry?” I hammer on his door. I don’t give a shit about anything else.
