I shake my head. “I muted them.”
“On Instagram?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s good.” Henry picks at the hoodie string’s bow until it undoes. “Don’t let it get to you.”
I really don’t have to let it get to me. Of course, it does a bit, but I’m trying.
“I think Olive hates me,” I say, out of nowhere.
Henry frowns. “Why would she?”
“Because I arrived here and, first, I came between her and Tori, and then I stole Grace’s boyfriend.” And now he’s lying here with me. “She said so herself.”
Henry stays silent for a while. “If she has to hate anyone, she ought to hate me.”
“Henry...”
“No, seriously, I mean it. You didn’t come between anyone. Tori likes you, you get on well, and if Olive has a problem with that, it’s between her and Tori. The same goes for Grace and me. You’re not the cause of the problem. Don’t let anyone tell you you are.”
“So you wouldn’t say that none of these problems even existed before I got here?”
“That’s rubbish and you know it. They were just simmering under the surface. Like a dormant volcano. It was clear that it wouldn’t work out in the long run. And I’m glad you’re here.” Henry smiles. “Don’t you dare go anywhere else now.”
“Apart from St. Andrews with you?” I say it half ironically, but his eyes gleam in that hopeful way that gives me a stomachache. What if I don’t get in? I curl up beside him. “Do you honestly think I could do it?”
“Of course you can do it.” He says it without a second’s hesitation. “You can do anything you put your mind to.”
“My grades aren’t good enough.”
“But you’ve got almost two whole years here.”
“Have I?”
“I hope so.”
“I talked to Mum about it last weekend,” I say.
Henry looks at me. “And?”
“She was pleased, said it would be nice for me.”
“I think it would be nice for you too. And for me, of course.”
“I thought as much.”
“But it’s your life, Em,” says Henry, to my surprise. “You shouldn’t make this kind of decision for her sake, and certainly not for mine. The most important thing is for you to be happy, and if that means you’re living back in Germany next year while I’m here, we’ll manage. There are phones and FaceTime and airplanes.”
I hadn’t known until now how much I needed to hear those words. It’s as if a weight I hadn’t even been aware of has been lifted off my shoulders. There’s warmth in my belly, and I’m feeling so many things for Henry all at once. Affection, gratitude, admiration, respect. He really means all of that. Being with him is a whole different level of lovely. Because he’s self-aware enough to tell me he’d like to have me here with him, while at the same time, he’ll have my back unconditionally if my plans for the future don’t match his. It feels so healthy.
“I don’t want phones and FaceTime, though. I want this,” I say. “With you.”
He smiles.
“Can you picture us going to St. Andrews together?” I ask, rolling onto my back and looking up at the ceiling.
“I can definitely picture that,” he says. “I bet there are some great nighttime walks there.”
