Because I was nervous. And insecure. Because I’d never done it before and didn’t want her to know that. As if there was anything wrong in that. I hope she sees it that way too, and I can’t actually imagine Tori judging me. In her place, I’d probably have liked that. To be her first. Loved it, even.
Ha. In that case, I guess I should have found the guts to tell her sooner how I felt. This is what I get for it. Thirty seconds of sex and a head full of chaos.
28
SINCLAIR
Kit had an emergency operation at the Royal Infirmary in Edinburgh. His shit of a father had beaten him so badly that he’d ruptured his spleen. Will is surprisingly composed as he tells us this. The doctors say Kit would probably have died of internal bleeding if he hadn’t got help last night. I think Mum knows too. She did tell children’s services, and that means Kit won’t be going home. I don’t know the details, but if I understand correctly, she’ll give him some kind of scholarship so that he can board at school.
It’s been a wild few days, and I haven’t seen much of Tori, because she’s been spending a lot of time with her brother. The insecure part of my brain keeps trying to convince me there might be other reasons for that too. I try to ignore it, but I can’t deny that things have been weird between us since we slept together.
Henry wouldn’t be Henry if he hadn’t instantly noticed that something was up. I ask him after dinner what he’s doing for the rest of the evening, and he says he’ll come round later. Soon after that, he knocks on my door; he’s wearing joggers, his school hoodie and his grim socks-and-Birkenstocks combo, and carrying a packet of biscuits, plus tea in his favourite mug.
We talk about Will and Kit for a while, and I learn that Mum gave Henry a bit of a hard time for not telling her about their problems. Although in the end she had to agree that he couldn’t really have done so, seeing Kit had sworn him to secrecy.
Henry’s gone back to calling me Sinclair as is only right and proper. So now, when he eyes me and sips his tea, I know what’s coming next.
‘So, Charlie, what’s up?’
I decide to ignore the fact that he keeps using my first name when he wants to steer the conversation subtly around to Tori. Instead I ask, ‘How’s Emma?’
‘Fine.’ Henry runs his thumb around the rim of his mug. ‘She saw her dad last weekend. I think it went well.’
‘That’s nice.’
‘Yeah, it is,’ he says. I say nothing. ‘And how’s Tori?’
‘How should she be? The whole thing with Will and Kit is stressing her out.’ I shrug my shoulders.
‘Understandable,’ Henry says. ‘What does your mum think about you two? Does she know?’
‘That we’re together?’ He nods. ‘She was pleased,’ I say. Because she really was. ‘So’s Dad.’ It would be more truthful to say that they looked at each other with a told-you-so expression on their faces, and smiled gently.
‘How about Tori’s parents?’ Henry asks.
‘Yeah, them too. Or I think they are.’ I gulp. Tori hasn’t told me they weren’t, anyway. But I also get the impression that Charlotte and George Belhaven-Wynford have other worries just now. Tori hasn’t been home for ages, which is definitely to do with her mum and the drinking.
‘Lovely, that’s nice.’ Henry goes silent.
When I look over, he’s eyeing me.
‘What’s up?’ he asks.
‘Nothing.’
‘So, how’s it going with your first girlfriend? Got any questions? Need any tips?’
I hate Henry, but I know he isn’t being ironic. Hardly surprising – he’s the baby of his family. I suppose he’s been waiting his whole life for the chance to be the one with pearls of wisdom to dispense in relationship matters. And it’s not like I wouldn’t be grateful. He and Emma are endgame. And what he had before, with Grace, wasn’t bad either. Henry knows how it works, let’s be honest here. Meanwhile, I’ve got room for improvement, to put it mildly.
‘Yeah, there is something.’ I squirm.
Henry puts down his mug. I wish he wasn’t focusing his full attention on me because, given what I need to talk to him about, there’s no way I can look him in the eye.
‘What is it?’
I gulp.
Oh, shit, if only I’d never said anything . . .
