As we walk through the large double doors towards the ballroom, loud music hits us. I recognize the song from the intro: ‘Thinking Bout You’ by Ariana Grande. The dance-floor is full. Sequins and crystal chandeliers glitter in the light. My stomach gives a little hop as Val holds out his arm to me as we walk down the few steps on the broad stone staircase from the entrance. When I glance up at him, he’s looking more conciliatory. The light falls onto his face, casts shadows over his sharp features. I’m at the New Year Ball with Valentine Ward. It’s really true.
And everyone’s staring at us. I feel the eyes on me as we arrive. Val doesn’t pull his arm away. He leads me into the centre of the hall, past the people standing chatting at little tables around the edge of the dance-floor. Younger pupils nudge each other and sneak little glances at us.
It feels a bit like a dream as Val turns to me and puts his hand on my back. I feel his muscles as I take his hand. It’s only for a wee while, but I suddenly remember Sinclair and those ceilidh dance classes in the third form. My friend had surprisingly firm biceps, and for some reason, I couldn’t touch him without getting butterflies in my stomach. Then Mr Acevedo nearly had to throw us out because we spent almost every lesson gigglinghysterically and getting all the steps wrong. It hits me like lightning as I look over Val’s shoulder, up towards the entrance, right into Sinclair’s expressionless face. He’s leaning on the banisters next to the doors. Emma and Henry have switched to full-on making out; Gideon’s standing next to him and his lips are moving, but Sinclair isn’t even pretending to listen. He’s looking down, at Val and me, and his eyes bore directly into my soul.
‘Hey, I’m over here.’
I turn my head back to Val. His smile doesn’t fit his sharp tone. Did he spot Sinclair and the others, or was it meant as a joke? I search his face for any hint that he’s pissed off, but see none.
‘Sorry.’ I smile.
Val pulls me a little closer. ‘Having fun?’ he asks.
I nod. It’s a reflex action. ‘Yeah, great.’
‘Oh, Tori . . .’ He sighs, as we move in time with the music. ‘What am I doing wrong?’
‘What do you mean?’ I reply at once. ‘It’s lovely, honestly.’
‘Would you rather go back to your wee pals?’
Is it really that obvious? I have to make more of an effort. ‘No. I’m here with you.’
‘Yes, you are,’ says Val. Suddenly, he looks me in the eye. Not just a quick, fleeting glance, it’s real and deep, a look that paralyses me from inside out. Will we kiss now? In books and films, it would be about the time for it. A tight embrace on the dance-floor. Lean in, shut your eyes. Help.
I don’t know if Val senses my panic. He moves back slightly, lifts his arm and I spin. When he pulls me in close again, I feel his hand lower down than it was before. A nervous tingle runs through my body. From the roots of my hair to the tips of my toes. It’s almost like I’m hyperaware of each of his movements. The song ends and, of course, it’s like all those dire high-schoolmovies. A slow dance starts. Val puts both hands on my bum and presses me up to his body.
‘Watch it there, pal.’
No idea where she just sprang from, but before I’ve properly grasped what’s happening, Eleanor Attenborough’s adjusting Val’s hands on my back. And byadjustingI mean moving them way up.
‘You consider yourself a gentleman, don’t you?’ She blows him a kiss as he opens his mouth in outrage. Her eyes meet mine and she studies me for a moment. It’s not a glare, it’s more attentive than intimidating. It’s an are-you-OK-with-what’s-going-on-here look.
I give her an uncertain smile and it’s only then that she turns away and vanishes back into the throng.
‘Sheesh, Eleanor,’ Val mumbles, imitating her. ‘Watch it there, pal. . . Shit, jealous much?’
I don’t reply. Val might see things differently, but I don’t really get the impression Eleanor’s pining for him. How long were the two of them even together? Two months, tops – but clearly long enough for everyone at Dunbridge to have been talking about them. But that’s just how it is here.
‘If you ask me, she’s not all there.’ I don’t have time to react as Val takes my hand and pulls me away. ‘Whatever. C’mon, let’s get out of here.’
My gut tells me it would be unwise to contradict him so I follow. Val does seem kind of jittery. A minute ago, he wanted to dance and not leave yet. Is it the cocaine? In that case, he shouldn’t be on his own, should he?
There’s no sign of Sinclair, Gideon, Emma or Henry as we head up the steps to the door. Or Val’s friends in the foyer. He doesn’t look at me, just pulls his phone from his pocket as we step outside.
‘Bet they’re behind the gym,’ he says. ‘Are you cold?’
My stomach lurches as he actually pulls off his jacket and hands it to me. Wasn’t so hard. That’s my first thought. My second is: Oh, my God, Valentine Ward’s offering me his jacket. Of course it’s too big for me and I love that.
‘Shall we join the others?’ he asks.
‘Sure.’
‘Or would you rather find your friends?’
He asks without that tone of reproach, but his eyes are heavy with expectation as he looks at me. There’s only one correct answer, I know that.
‘No.’ I shake my head. Besides, I don’t even know where they are now. ‘Let’s go.’
