“I’m getting the bus home. I think we’re probably on the same route to a point.”
Callan frowned. “I thought you lived in New Town.”
“I do.”
“I’m in Sighthill. Not exactly in the same direction,” he retorted dryly.
Frowning at the idea I had something wrong about Callan, I said, “I thought you lived in Leith.”
His step faltered. “Ah … well … not really.”
I waited for him to elaborate. “C’mon. I’ve told you about my family.”
“Aye. You have. Your very successful family who live in a fancy townhouse in fucking New Town. New Town, Beth.”
Something unpleasant twinged in my chest. “What does that mean?”
“Your parents are so well off, you live in a house worth millions.”
Embarrassment crept hotly through me because I’d never really thought about what the house was worth. Or about money really in general.
And Callan was on a sports scholarship.
“None of that matters to me,” I assured him.
“That’s because you don’t know anything about me.”
“Then tell me. Please.”
“Well, for a start, money doesn’t matter to you because you have it.” He gave me a gently chiding look. “But it matters, Beth. You’ve no idea how fucking hard it is when you don’t have it.”
I didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not …” He nudged me with his shoulder. “I’m not getting at you for having money. I just … some of the lads on the team treat me differently because they’ve worked out I don’t come from money.”
Anger flushed through me. “Differently how?”
“Like, they’re happy I’m moving the team up the league, but they don’t invite me to do stuff with them outside of training and games.”
“Arseholes.”
Callan grinned. “Look, it’s fine. I’ve got my mates from home that I hang out with. But there can only be one reason the lads here don’t want to … the fact that I don’t have money makes them uncomfortable.”
“Like I said, arseholes.”
“It doesn’t bother you?”
“Why would it bother me?” I scowled. “It has nothing to do with who you are. In fact, correction—it does. Clearly. Because you’re more driven than any of those idiots at school.”
“Even Ryan Preston?”
Surprise made me draw to a halt. Callan stopped too, looking back at me with a carefully neutral expression. “What does that mean?”
Callan shrugged. “I know he’s desperate to get in your knickers, along with half of the bloody school.”
My eyes narrowed. “And you think I’m interested in Ryan Preston?”
“Millionaire’s son. Drives to school in a Porsche.”
