‘From what I heard, things didn’t work out too well for him,’ I mumble.
Mr Acevedo smiles. ‘Well, at least you’ve still got a sense of humour. And the option to do better than he did.’
‘If only it was that easy.’ I look over to the door. Maybe Tori’s waiting for me.
‘I believe in you, Charles. Truly. Off with you, now. I get the impression you need to talk to somebody.’
I beat it.
I walk up the steps, open the door.
The corridor outside the theatre is deserted. Or so I think. Then I see them, at the end of the hallway, just turning a corner. Tori and Valentine. Hand in hand.
I stop. My body goes numb, and I get the hell out of there.
15
TORI
I don’t know when my life turned into this soap opera where I’ve been kissed within the space of a few weeks by my crush and my best friend.
I feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience as I step out of the dark theatre. Rays of sunlight are falling through the windows of the north wing, and the others are chatting. They walk away. I stop. Their voices grow quieter as the last of them disappears round the corner, and I’m left there on my own.
What now? Should I wait for Sinclair? What did Mr Acevedo want to talk to him about anyway? It was obvious that Sinclair’s mind wasn’t on the job. And we both know why. Even though it’s starting to feel like what happened back there on the stage was nothing but a crazy fever dream.
But it was a kiss. No, that’s not true. A kiss sounds so harmless. It was way more. They werekisses, plural.It was passion, out of control. It was the thing I’ve been fantasizing about in so many fake scenarios that I’d forgotten how intense reality can be. Real touches, catching breath. I didn’t want it to stop. That moment when he just kissed me felt like the first day of my life.
‘Tori.’
No.
Not now . . .
I turn to face him, forgetting to slap on a smile.
Val frowns as he comes closer. Judging by his clothing and sports bag, he’s come straight from either rugby or the gym.
‘What’s up?’
A guilty conscience expressed in the form of stomach cramps, that’s what’s up, my dear Valentine.
If he knew, oh, God, if he had even the faintest inkling of what I was doing just now. Did I cheat on him? I did, right? So am I now no better than all the women in all the books who made me so angry because they went against my principles? Why did nobody ever tell me how easily a thing like that can happen? Especially when it’s the person you’ve wanted to kiss for so long. And are Val and I an official couple now or not? Is this a relationship? Is it a game? Who knows? Because every time I think I’ve worked it out, it slips away from me like a bar of wet soap.
‘Not much.’ My voice sounds an octave too high, but Val doesn’t seem to have noticed. His eyes scan the theatre doors as he approaches. ‘We just finished. Mr Acevedo wanted to discuss something with me.’
Val makes an incomprehensible grunt and leans down to me. And then this day goes down in history as the one when I let two different guys kiss me maybe an hour apart.
‘What’s up with you?’ I ask, as he lets me go again. ‘Rugby?’
‘Been to the gym to let off a bit of steam,’ he says curtly, taking my hand. Normally I’d ask why, but I don’t dare just now. Val’s skin is warm but not as soft as Sinclair’s. I follow him unresistingly and I have no idea where we’re headed. ‘So, what’ve you been up to?’
I stiffen slightly. ‘What do you mean?’
Val’s eyes rest on me. ‘Your day? How’s it been, what’ve you been up to?’
‘Good, I . . . Why do you ask?’
‘We haven’t seen each other for ages. And I’m trying to take an interest. To be attentive. Or is that wrong too now?’
