Meaning when I said, ‘it’s not you it’s me,’ it is one hundred and ten percent you.
Joseph’s expression turns faintly puzzled. I’d take it as an indicator of success, but I’ve been fooled before, so I wait for another sign before claiming victory. My stomach clenches. Now as disturbed by him not getting it as it had been by the thought of breaking his heart.
Chance would be a fine thing.
“Esme,” my best friend Rowena shouts as she clumps along the corridor towards my room, the door to the hallway purposely left open. “Have you dumped Joseph yet? Tarryn’s party starts soon, and it’s going to be packed with…” She pokes her head through the door and sees us. “Oh.”
She pulls a face at me, and I desperately try not to laugh. “Hey, buddy. How’re you doing?”
Joseph turns back to face me with an appalled expression. “You’re dumping me?”
Eureka! I want to jump up and down with excitement. I settle for a “Yes,” and a glance of sympathy.
“You’redumpingme?”His face rolls into thunder.
Well, that’s a new take. I hadn’t realised Joseph thought he was slumming it.
“Have you been having sex behind my back this whole time?”
“What? No!”
“My dad warned me you were a slut. If I find out—”
“You’ll what?” Rowena asks, inserting herself between us. There’s fire in her eyes but she’s also an inch shorter than me, and my five foot two isn’t winning any intimidation battles.
I gently move her aside and stare down Joseph while a pulse of pure panic ticks in my neck. “There’s no one else. I just don’t want this relationship any longer.”
“But…” He runs a hand through his hair, frowning so deeply his forehead is in danger of cleaving in two. “This isn’t how it’s meant to go.”
The words would twist into my heart except they’re accompanied by a glare of such white-hot fury that even my most empathetic impulses engage their survival instincts and wisely disconnect, leaving cruelty in their wake.
“Can you have your existential crisis in your own room?” I say, scuttling over to the open door and sweeping my arm towards it.
Joseph’s glare could flambé me alive, but he obeys the instructions, reluctantly walking out and along the corridor, hopefully never to return.
“Ugh,” I say while Rowena gives me a sympathetic hug. “Thanks for coming in when you did. You’re a life saver.”
“More like a breaker-upperer. But guess what?”
“You fancy Joseph like mad and now you finally have a chance with him?”
“Ooh. Rebound sex. Sounds like it would hit the spot, but no. I think I’ve fallen in love.”
During the ten months and counting of our friendship, Rowena has fallen in love with at least one boy a fortnight on average. The flush of limerence quickly fades, leaving her panting for another hit.
Being in a boarding school of suitors, most gifted with their mother’s genes and their father’s money, is like storing her in a drug den and not expecting her to take sneaky hits off the pipe.
She’s a scholarship student and I suspect half of her falls in love with the extreme wealth. It’s a different world from where she grew up and I’m spoiled to have someone so smart and so down-to-earth as a friend.
“He’s going to be there tonight, at Tarryn’s party.” She purses her lips. “Wear the tiny black number and we can tag team him now you’re free.”
“He doesn’t go here, then?”
“Yeah, but he’s new.” She tips a saucy wink that’s wasted on me. “One of the athletic scholarships and goddamn, but those intensive workouts have paid off for the boy.”
Kingswood College finally hit the minimum number of full-time students to qualify for tournaments at the secondary school level. Sports and schools in New Zealand might not be the same power couple as other countries, but if there’s a competition going, Kingswood College wants to come top in it.
Cue a dozen scholarship ring-ins from other schools, poaching sports stars with the same ease that their traditional scholarship steals academics.
