There’s a knock from somewhere, which makes me jump. My mouth is dry and my laptop screen has gone black. Seems like I did drop off after all. What’s the time? It’s not time to get up, is it? No, it’s still dark outside and...
Another knock. Someone’s at my door. I get goose bumps as I walk barefoot over to it. I’ve left the window open a crack, as I do every night, and the ancient wooden floorboards are freezing. They feel almost damp to the touch.
I’ve only just opened the door a tiny bit when a figure pushes its way into my room. It takes me a full three seconds to recognize Tori, who holds her index finger warningly to her lips and shuts it behind her.
“Phew.” She sighs. “I was seriously scared that Ms.Barnett would catch me.”
“Is something wrong?” I ask. My voice sounds rough and I clear my throat.
“I haven’t got your phone number,” says Tori, to my surprise.
“So you came knocking on my door in the middle of the night to get it?”
“Course not, but it means I can’t WhatsApp you. I need to get Olive to add you to our group. She’s the admin.”
“Tori, what the hell...?”
“Sorry, sorry. I know it’s late. But you have to get dressed.” She smiles mysteriously. Before I can reply, she claps her hands quietly. “Spur-of-the-moment midnight party, lovely lady!”
“What?”
“God, you’re as dim as Sinclair when you’ve just woken up. Come on, we’re meeting Olive on the stairs in five minutes. Put a warm jacket on. It’s freezing out there.”
“You’re not serious?” I say, even though Tori’s face is so excited she clearly means every word of it. I run my eyes over her. Yep. She’s wearing jeans and sneakers and has a jacket over her school hoodie. Her long coppery hair is tied up in a crazy bun.
“The dress code only applies in the daytime,” she says, winking at me and pushing me over to my wardrobe. “Come on, come on, hurry up.”
“Isn’t this against the rules?” I ask, opening the cupboard.
“Course it is. But if anyone catches us, we’ll just say that I was feeling ill and you were helping me get some fresh air.”
I can’t help laughing. Tori sits on my bed, frantically messaging a WhatsApp group, while I slip into jeans, a jumper, and my jacket. She’s kind enough to leave me time to brush my teeth before shoving me out into the corridor.
I hold my breath as we walk down the hall. When we reach the staircase, she pulls me over to the right-hand side. She flattens herself against the wall, and I copy her when I spot the motion sensor above the door. It’s only once we’ve got down the first few steps that Tori audibly exhales. Halfway down to the next floor, we bump into Olive and a couple of other girls in ouryear. I recognize Inés and Salome from my English class, Amara from my tutor group, and two other girls whose names I can’t remember. Olive gives us a wave. Her eyes skim impatiently over me, and I suddenly wonder if she minds Tori bringing me along. I decide not to worry about it and just follow the others downward.
We cross the small inner courtyard in the darkness, then go through two gateways. I’ve lost all sense of direction by the time we get outside the walls. It seems like we can’t be seen from the school now—and are out of earshot too, because the others start giggling and talking quietly. The night is chilly and I’m glad of my jacket. I’m about to ask Tori if this midnight party is happening outdoors but then we head toward the greenhouses I’d seen earlier from the running track. There’s a light on in the furthest of them, and soon I’m following the rest through the door.
It’s warm, even though there are several broken panes. I guess this one is out of use, because instead of plants, I see a muddle of odd chairs and a load of people partying. There doesn’t seem to be any more risk of being overheard—the music is loud, and so is the laughter.
“We’re far enough from the main buildings here,” Tori explains as she catches my eye. “We’re miles from everything apart from the gardener’s house, and Mr.Carpenter’s as deaf as a post.”
“That’s not true,” says Salome, stroking one of her many tiny braids out of her face. “I’m sure he knows exactly what goes on here. But he won’t say anything so long as nothing gets broken. And the other greenhouses are strictly off limits.”
“So’s alcohol,” remarks Sinclair cheerfully. He’s heading toward a boy who looks amazingly like Tori. His red hair is a touch darker than hers.
“William,” Tori informs me. “My—”
“Little brother?” I suggest, and she nods.
“Did lover boy remember the wine?” Sinclair asks Will, nodding at a dark-haired guy in black boots and a biker jacket who looks the exact opposite of a boarding-school pupil.
“You’re so cringeworthy, Charles,” I hear William grumble, which makes me laugh. He’s the first person, apart from the teachers, I’ve heard call Sinclair by his first name. The way they act around each other, you’d think he and Sinclair were brothers too. “But yeah, Kit brought something from the shop.”
“I love him,” declares Sinclair, reaching for the bottle that Will’s clasping. His eyes keep flitting over to Kit, who seems older than the rest of us. But maybe that’s just down to the cigarette wedged oh so casually behind his left ear. When he suddenly glances our way, William casts his eyes down, like he’s been caught out.
“There are no glasses, I’m afraid,” says Sinclair, passing me another bottle.
I hesitate for a moment, then take it.
