‘Do you think he didn’t get the grades?’
‘What will he do if he hasn’t?’
I’m irritated with myself that my first reaction is one of sympathy. It really would be crap to fail your A levels. Especially given his parents’ expectations and his overachiever of a big sister. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, not even Val. Unless, of course, he didn’t do any work until it was too late because he was relying on having his uncle at the school to coach him through. Then he’d deserve all he got.
But who am I to judge?
What is it to me whether Val passes his exams? Mind you, I do care because what if he came back to do resits next year? In our form. Oh, God, no . . .
The mere idea of that makes my throat constrict. I’d been banking on never having to see him again after a few more weeks. I’d be fine with that, especially since he’s recently started dating Chloë in the fifth form and I feel an urgent need to warn her. Like Eleanor felt about me.
‘Sorry, I . . . Oh.’ I ram both feet into the ground as I turn the corner and almost collide with someone.
‘Can’t you look where you’re going?’
I shiver as Val’s eyes meet mine. They’re icy.
‘I could ask you the same question,’ I snap.
For a moment, Val looks as surprised as I feel. But just the sight of him makes me livid.
He huffs and eyes me up. ‘Are you here to apologize?’
At first I think he’s pulling my leg. But he’s straight-faced. He means it. I laugh in disbelief. ‘Seriously? Apologize? What for, Val?’
He narrows his eyes to slits. ‘For being as underhand and sly as Eleanor.’
He says it and he means it. I can see it on his face. Valentine Ward slithered into my mind, made himself at home there, like a virus, and feels no guilt. Not even a hint of it. And he’ll never change, no matter how many ugly break-ups he has. It’ll always be the woman’s fault, never his. Obviously, because we’re all obsessive, sick and pitiable.
But I’m done with being angry. I’m not wasting any more energy on him. He’s not remotely worth it. An almost eerie peace spreads through me as I slowly shake my head.
‘The only thing I’m sorry for is having got involved with you in the first place. That, and that you’ll never understand it.’
‘You’re making a fool of yourself,’ he says. ‘Did you really think I was serious about you?’
Aha, we’re going down that line now.
‘Val, I don’t wish anything bad on you. Just for you to meet someone who treats you the way you treated me.’
‘Yeah, me too,’ he calls after me as I walk away. ‘That’s the least I deserve.’
That’s the least you deserve.
My heart doesn’t start racing until I’ve turned the corner and I’m going downstairs. I’ve got ten minutes till my next class, so I drop onto one of the benches out in the courtyard.
It’s really weird. I wish I could claim that I truly believe all that. Believe I’m done with Valentine and be absolutely certain that what he did to me was out of order. But a horribly large part of my brain can’t stop asking stupid what-if questions.
What if I’d given him fewer reasons to get angry? What if he’s kind of right?
Because I did kind of want it. To be Valentine Ward’s girlfriend. To go to the New Year Ball with him, to feel special. To feel those butterflies in my stomach that all those bloody romance novels talk about. The nervous fluttering I always felt around Val – I honestly thought that was it.
But now I don’t think butterflies in your stomach are necessarily a sign of love. It’s my body’s way of telling me that something isn’t right. It’s nerves. It’s tiring. Excitement, anxiety. Will he notice me? Will we have fun? How can I please him? And, oh, God, it’s so wrong, yet I kept on doing it, ignoring all the little warning signs.
Everything Eleanor said about him a while back feels true. That the way he treated us wasn’t OK. That maybe it was toxic. I always thought a toxic relationship was one where someone’s partner manipulates them into losing trust in themselves. But, apparently, there are subtler versions. Valentine and I were only mildly toxic, but that doesn’t make it only mildly bad. And we weren’t even in a relationship. We had a few date-like evenings and we kissed. But, even so, I can’t stop thinking about it. ShouldI have noticed sooner? Did I only put up with it so I didn’t have to admit that everyone around me was right?
It’s no basis for anything if you feel sick every time you see him. Because you never know which version of him you’re going to get. Because his words and actions are always out of synch, and his voice changes more quickly than the Scottish weather.
Fall in love with the person you feel safe with. You feel calm with. That’s the person you love. Because you’re yourself around him, without even noticing.
