“I knew you’d get hooked on BookTok.”
“It’s the best.”
Tori giggles and waves to me as I leave her room with my mug. The corridor is almost empty, as always at this time of day. Ms.Barnett is coming out of a room at the other end and nods to me as I slip into mine.
I put my mug on my desk, and my bed really does look inviting. I’ve been here long enough by now to know that, with a bit of luck, Ms.Barnett won’t look in again, and I can just spend an hour reading or watching YouTube. According to Tori, it’s only the juniors and younger years who have to show their houseparents that they’ve really been working. They also have to hand in their phones first. Pretty strict when I think that at my old school, nobody cared when or how you did your homework. But although I could get away with not working, I sit down at my desk. I’drather focus on reading for English, so that next time, I can prove to Mr.Ward that I’m capable of keeping up with the A-level course.
I’ve just got out my folder and I’m about to put my phone away when I see the Instagram notification. I’ve been meaning to switch those off for ages now. I don’t want to be informed every time Isi or anyone else posts a story.
It was Isi, and now I’m going to have to find out what she shared or I won’t be able to concentrate on my work. I’ll just tap on the app for a moment, then switch off notifications.
Isi’s reposted a story that Betil—a girl in another class—shared yesterday evening. They seem to be at someone’s home—at least, the room and its orange lights remind me of the party cellar in Eros’s parents’ house. The photo, a selfie of Betil and Nikola, makes my heart stand still. Not because of the two of them, but because they’re pointing their fingers at a couple wrapped around each other on the sofa in the background.
It’s Isi and Noah, and they’re kissing. Betil’s holding her phone higher, they’re laughing, and Isi and Noah are looking at them.
I feel numb, yet my thoughts are whirling.
Isi’s kissing Noah. Noah’s kissing Isi. Isi and Noah are kissing. And it doesn’t look like drunken snogging at a party, no way. It looks like the reason why Isi’s been so quiet on WhatsApp. She’s got together with Noah. Even though she didn’t have a good word to say about him when I was with him. She ripped him to shreds, and when he dumped me, she said I should think myself lucky, because I was too good for him. And now she’s kissing him at some party, in front of people I thought were my friends. While I’m in Scotland.
Why did she share a thing like that? She must know I’d see it.
My blood runs cold.
Maybe she wanted me to see it...
Because everyone’s the same. Because nobody gives a fuck if they hurt other people.
Noah, who dumps people by WhatsApp like a fucking coward.
Isi, who pretends one thing, then gets together with him.
My father, who records “For Emma” and disappears off the face of the earth.
I don’t get it. What did I do to these people, and why does it always have to hurt so much? It shouldn’t be a surprise anymore.
I can’t cry. I’m calm. I exit Isi’s story and deactivate all notifications. I shut the stupid app and put my phone to one side.
And then I sit there, staring at my practically empty pinboard, wondering what the hell is going on.
14
Emma
Emma, love, could you give me a call at lunchtime?
Every time I read Mum’s message, I hear her voice in my mind. She sounds worryingly serious—after all, why should she want me to phone in the middle of the day? We generally speak in the evenings, and it’s always spontaneous. Mum calls me, or I call her, and either the other person answers or they don’t. But this is weird. I immediately find myself thinking about the time she rang to tell me she was stuck in Nice and wouldn’t be able to fly to Edinburgh with me.
All the way through maths and history, it’s like I’m sitting on hot coals, and I wish I could fast-forward through time. I tell Tori and Olive I’ll catch up with them at lunch and sigh with relief as they head for the dining room without asking any questions.
I pull my phone out of my bag and head in the opposite direction, outside. I sit on a bench in the little inner courtyard and dial Mum’s number.
She answers in two rings. “Emmi-Mouse?”
“Hi,” I say.
“Where are you right now?” she asks.
I blink up at the sun, high above me in the sky. “Out in the courtyard.”
