‘And we all know how well that worked out last time,’ I remark, remembering that Sinclair had found the two of them sleeping like babies in Henry’s room.
‘Cut it out,’ Emma says, but with a smile she can’t completely hide.
It’s a small, sharp stab in my chest. It’s not that I’m not happy for her and Henry. I am, really happy, because they deserve to be happy. But lately, everything that any other couple has has been reminding me of everything that Sinclair and I don’t have. Apart from that kiss but, unfortunately, we still don’t even know what that meant.
Henry’s waiting for us outside the dining room, and I can’t bear how cute it is as he kisses Emma, then takes the book because he’s Henry Bennington and genuinely interested in what his girlfriend is reading and thinking and what she’s been doing today. There’s no sign of Sinclair. I wait a full ten minutes for him to appear before Henry mentions in passing that he’s gone home for dinner today. Which has nothing to do with me. Or I hope not, anyway. But today of all days, I could have done with a chance to intercept him after the meal.
OK, fine. I’ll have to speak to him later. He’ll definitely be back for the midnight party even if he’s got a shift in the bakery after that. And it’s half a lifetime since Sinclair last slept at his parents’ house in Ebrington in term time.
I feel Eleanor’s eyes on me as the upper sixth line up at the serving hatch. For more than just a moment. My blood runs cold. Does she know? Is that why Sinclair isn’t here? Did he go to Eleanor to tell her everything? Or did he do it earlier when they were paired up for that drama exercise? It was unbearable, the two of them staring deep into each other’s eyes for so long, but I couldn’t look away either. I couldn’t hear what they were talking about. But I know the answer. He’ll have told her, the way I’ve got to tell Val later.
I catch sight of him next, but Val doesn’t glance my way even for a second. He’s chatting to Cillian and roaring with laughter as they walk to the front. At that moment, I wonder for the first time if it wouldn’t be more sensible not to tell Val anything. It’sonly a tiny thought, but I know it would be wrong. I can’t keep on like this. It’s killing me.
Finally, it’s our turn, but I’ve got no appetite. I feel detached from myself. Olive’s ahead of me in the queue, and she’s ignoring me. My best friend kissed me. Everything’s coming apart at the seams, which is exactly what I was trying to prevent. Outstanding work.
SINCLAIR
Sitting calmly at dinner with Mum and Dad and not constantly glancing anxiously at my phone was harder than I’d expected. But that would have tipped them off that something’s wrong, and if there’s one thing I don’t have the nerve for today, it’s explaining to my parents what happened. It’s not that I can’t talk about things to them, but whatever it is between Tori and me is kind of a running joke at home. She’d never say a word at school, but here, Mum doesn’t disguise the fact that she sees Tori as her future daughter-in-law. I can tell her as often as I like that we’re just friends but she secretly believes that as little as Dad, who keeps asking when Tori will come round for dinner again. Hey, a few hours ago I’d have had the self-confidence and naivety to say that they’d quite likely be seeing a lot of her soon, but the more time passes, the less sure I am of that. I kissed her. I didn’t even wonder, let alone ask her if she’d be OK with that. And instead of talking to her about it, I watched her wander off with Valentine Ward. It’s all so fucked up that I could scream. So I invited myself home to eat with my parents at short notice, just so I wouldn’t have to see her.
I push all thoughts of Tori aside, tell them about Jubilee and the rehearsals. I don’t mention my conversation with Mr Acevedo. I hope he won’t talk to Mum about me. It would be awkward, but then again, it might mean her and Dad dampeningdown their expectations a bit. Since they heard that I’ll be playing Romeo, they’ve been talking non-stop about how much they’re looking forward to the play in the summer. If it wouldn’t be totally daft, I’d try to ban them from coming. It’ll be bad enough if I embarrass myself in front of the whole school. And if things carry on like this, I will. Through and through.
Luckily, I’ve got other worries just now. They start withKand end withissed-Tori. I don’t know how long I’ve been dithering, staring at my phone, now that I’m back at school, in plenty of time for wing time. Emma’s next door with Henry and I remember that we’re partying in the old greenhouse later. I wish I could skip it, but it occurs to me that Tori might not even be there. I bet she’d rather hang around with the upper sixth in their dingy Dungeon. Not too long ago, I’d have texted her without a second’s thought. I don’t know when that changed. I only know that I hate it. Seriously. I loathe the fact that Tori’s no longer the person I can tell everything. But more than that, I hate thatshedoesn’t tellmethings any more.
Opening our chat is like a punch in the guts. The last message was over a week ago. Trivial stuff. It’s not like we even used to communicate all that much by text message. Why would we when we were together practically twenty-four/seven? But the lastWhat are you doing? Can I come over?message was yonks ago. And I know that won’t change unless I do something about it. But I can’t text her. We kissed; she went off with Valentine Ward. You can’t get clearer than that. No way will she have told him what happened. So what do I even want to talk to her about? That was answer enough, wasn’t it?
Henry messages later, saying shall we go, and I’d prefer to pretend to be asleep. But then he’d know for sure that something’s wrong and I can definitely do without explaining everything to him.
But Henry wouldn’t be Henry if he didn’t notice anyway. I sense him looking at me as I can’t stop watching the door as if Tori might stroll in at any moment.
‘Isn’t Tori coming?’ Henry’s face is a picture of innocence as he wanders over.
‘Why would I know?’
He studies me, then says ‘I was just wondering.’
‘I suppose she’s with Val and his friends.’
Henry raises his eyebrows in surprise. ‘Interesting.’ He keeps watching me, and now I’m raging.
‘What?’
‘Nothing . . .’
‘Not that I care. She can chill with whoever she wants.’
If I don’t care, why am I so defensive?
‘I get that it’s annoying,’ Henry says.
‘Why would it be annoying?’
He shrugs ever so slightly. ‘I’d be annoyed if Emma preferred hanging around with the upper sixth to being with me.’
‘Emma’s your girlfriend.’
Henry says nothing. Sometimes, silence speaks louder than words. He looks away and I follow his gaze. Emma’s sitting at the other end of the greenhouse with Omar, Salome and Inés and they burst into loud laughter.
‘Looks like she’s really at home here now.’
