There’s one system that Em understands above all others: the school hierarchy. Her at the top, anyone unfortunate enough to draw her ire at the bottom.
It was so much fun to wind her up last weekend. Nobody could possibly blame me if I amuse myself by arranging some entertainment at her expense.
CHAPTERSIX
EM
I’ve seen the car before. At home, where I only lingered long enough to grab a change of clothes and put my old ones into the wash. Ten minutes, tops. But the car had been sitting outside the house opposite when I emerged.
It had been two vehicles behind me at the set of lights before the roundabout. When I parked at school, it had crawled past, seeming slower than the thirty-kilometre notice posted.
Now, here it is, again.
Caylon suggests something. A movie? Homework? God knows.
Something that’s never going to happen. Not with Wilbur’s threat hanging over my head.
The sound travels in and out of my ear while all I can hear is the plague of panicked voices squealing that it’s him. It’s Wilbur. He’s out on the street watching me right now. Waiting for me to betray my word. Hoping to see me with a boy. Tracking my every movement so he can penalise me if I put one foot wrong.
He’s been possessive before but not like this. The threats are usually far gentler. The subtle suggestion that I owe him. That without his support, I’ll flounder. That my life will head straight downhill.
It’s so hard to breathe.
Dee mutters something about taking our break. Yes. Around the corner where even if someone I fear is seated inside the car, they won’t be able to see me. The best idea I’ve heard in ages.
I turn to follow her, but Caylon stops me. “Say it again.”
Say what? My eyes steal towards the roadside again. Checking the vehicle’s still there.
It is.
I’ll upload videos of you to every porn site I can find. I’ll make you put your real name on it, so everyone will know.
The man in the driver’s seat taps his hands on the wheel, drumming out some unheard beat. He glances at me, then looks away. So casual it must be staged.
Touch another boy and I’ll have him killed. All I have to do is pick up the phone.
Pure panic floats some words to the top until they burst out of my mouth. “I’m never going out with you. You’re fucking crazy.”
I push past him, eyes pulled back to the parked car like they’re on strings and the spy sitting in the front seat is tugging on them. Dee puts a hand on my shoulder and the guy’s eyes narrow.
You can’t see that. You can barely make out what he looks like, let alone see his expression.
And that’s true, but it doesn’t feel like it. My mind interprets his changes in position however they like.
What if a girl touching you is just as bad? What if that man doesn’t know the difference between a friend and a lover?
I jerk my arm away from Dee’s touch, immediately rushing to apologise. “Sorry. I’m jumpy today. Don’t know why.”
“How long’s it been since you went home?”
We walk behind the mathematics block and my view of the road and the car opposite is cut off, freeing my mind to wonder what he’s up to when I don’t have eyes on him. It takes a massive effort of will to drag my concentration back to what’s right in front of me.
“This morning. I’m going back there after school.”
“You want some company?”
The offer is both unexpected and welcome. “That’d be great. It seems like every piece of clothing I own in the world needs washing and the machine just can’t fit that much.”
