‘Ah, fuck . . .’ he mumbles, pinching his eyes shut.
‘Take that off,’ I order him, pointing to his hoodie. If that blood’s ever going to come out, I need to soak it in cold water right away. Well, once he’s stopped bleeding. I need to get some ice.OK, Tori, calm down. One thing at a time.
He actually does what I say. His T-shirt rides up a little as he pulls the jumper over his head and reveals a strip of bare skin. I flush hot. I might like to joke that riding isn’t a real sport, but his six-pack begs to differ. Which is entirely irrelevant just now. He’s not doing well. He suppresses a groan as he pulls off the hoodie. I take it from him and make him sit down on the closed loo seat, then wet a towel and run ice-cold water into the sink to soak it. There’s a bit on his T-shirt collar too, but like hell am I asking him to take that off right now. In the worst case, he’ll have to throw it away.
When I turn back to him, he’s leaning his head against the wall. Memories catch up with me. The New Year Ball. Charlie drunk, me with him in this room. This time everything’s different, yet nothing’s different at all.
He blinks as I step between his legs and take his chin. His skin is warm and I feel his jaw tense beneath my fingertips. The area around his left eye is already starting to swell.
‘Don’t move,’ I order him, as I dab away the blood. I’m being as careful as I can, and I’m sure he’s trying not to show anything, but he flinches when I accidentally get too close to his nose. ‘Sorry,’ I murmur.
‘’S OK.’
‘It doesn’t look very OK to me.’
He groans again and lets his head droop.
‘Is there any ice in your kitchen?’ I ask.
‘No idea, I can go and have a look.’
‘Don’t even think about it,’ I warn him. ‘You stay right where you are. Here, for your nose.’ He reaches for the wet towel I hold out to him. I get goosebumps as his fingers brush mine.
This is nuts. My best friend’s been in a fight. For my sake. Because we kissed. All in one day. I’m seriously doubting my state of mind as I flit down the corridor to the boys’ kitchen.
The layout’s similar to ours in the west wing, so I have no problem finding my way in the dark. To my surprise, amid the mountain of frozen pizzas and ready-meal lasagnes, I find a bag of peas.
Charlie is standing in front of the mirror again when I get back to his room. He’s pulled off his T-shirt. Does he have a death-wish? I can’t deal with his ripped upper body right now. His jeans are pretty low-slung.
I stop in the bathroom doorway and my throat is suddenly dry as dust.
‘Here.’ I cough and hold up the bag of frozen peas. ‘Best I could do.’
He looks at me, and he’s gorgeous, even now with half his face swollen and a split lip. I want to kiss him. I want to say his name until I forget who I am. I want all of that and I sense that tonightI don’t have the strength to stop myself. And that’s not good because I’m alone with him in his room.
‘Did he hurt you?’
His voice is quiet but it cuts me to the quick. Maybe it’s better to act like I didn’t hear him.
‘Tori?’ he asks, more insistently. I can’t say a word when he turns to me. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t come towards me because he knows that then I’d have to step back. I feel an overwhelming urge to burst into tears. He gulps and keeps watching me. ‘Please . . .’
‘No . . .’ I manage to say. Val didn’t do anything. Apart from kissing me and holding me when I didn’t want him to, and if I’m perfectly honest, that wasn’t OK. And if I’m brutally honest, a lot of things haven’t been OK. And everyone knew it. Everyone was warning me, the whole time. Emma, Henry, Will, Charlie. And I didn’t want to listen because I thought I knew better. Because I thought I’d read enough novels that nothing like that could happen to me. And I’m not strong enough to face that just now. Let alone to allow myself to feel the emotions. I don’t have a clue what it means. I need to think it all over and work out where we go from here. And until then, I can’t show any emotions. Let alone weakness. Not in front of Charlie. Not in front of myself. Not in front of anybody.
‘Are you sure?’
‘For fuck’s sake, yes.’ My voice cracks but I don’t cry. I gulp, because I can’t help it.
You’re all right. You’re doing fine.
Cold water runs down my forearm and I remember the peas.
‘Here.’ I hand them to him. ‘You need an ice pack.’
‘Tori, if he did anything you didn’t want, we have to tell Mum . . .’
‘We don’t have to do anything,’ I reply, too loudly. ‘Any more than you had to go and start that fight.’
Charlie stands there like he’s been rooted to the spot.
