“No, eighteen.Same everywhere here,” she says briefly.
I smile.“Thanks for the info, Olive Garden.”
“Would you mind?”
“Don’t you like the nickname?You’re welcome to come up with one for me.”
“Why the fuck would I do that?”she spits.
“Whatever, Olive Garden,” I say, turning away.“See you around.”
“Not if I see you first,” she calls after me.
I hold back my smile until she can no longer see it.
8
Olive
Fantino also spends the whole of the following day reminding me that he’s got something over me, partly by his mere presence and partly by these little sidelong glances.My rage at him still hasn’t cooled by the afternoon, when I’m sitting at my desk, trying to study.It’s not going too well, because my thoughts are everywhere but in this room.Everything within me is crying out to go back to bed and pull the covers over my head, but I won’t give in to weakness.If I can’t keep up with the lower-sixth prep, there’s no way I can fulfill my plan to catch up with the upper sixth on the side.
Mind you, that’s also true if Colin means what he says and grasses on me over the broken display case.I don’t know him, but I’d believe anything of him.He’s one of those people who have absolutely no interest in anybody else.On the other hand, I do know Mrs.Sinclair.I’m very sure that she’d be angry or, worse, disappointed if she knew, but I’ve been at this school long enough to be equally sure that you wouldn’t be immediately expelled over something like that.And I’ve never done anything that badbefore.Besides, and however much I hate the idea, I can always play the sympathy card.Her school went on fire, and it almost killed me.I wouldn’t like to claim that means I can get away with anything, but I’m pretty certain Mrs.Sinclair feels guilty.Not that the fire was any more her fault than anyone else’s.
I get goose bumps when I remember Colin’s questions as we stood outside the west wing yesterday.Luckily, Henry didn’t tell him about the fire either.I couldn’t have dealt with it if Colin had kept digging.No way, a fire.Did anyone get hurt?
Yeah.Me.
Then he’d know, and he’d be able to start giving me the same sympathetic looks as everyone else here.Although, no, that’s not true.Fantino isn’t the kind of guy who’d look at you like that because he has zero empathy.Even so, I don’t want him to know.And I don’t want to know anything about him either.Such as why he’s so desperate to get kicked out of Dunbridge.I don’t care.I seriously couldn’t give a fuck.Maybe I would if he wasn’t such a total arse.It’s not like I’d been hoping to make loads of new friends in the lower sixth.A few good friends are enough for me.So I’m fine with knowing some people already in Will and Kit, plus Luke and Ana from the swimming team.And Elain from enrichment seemed really nice.I’ll get through the next few weeks somehow or other.And if Colin’s gone by then, all the better.I’m annoyed with myself for thinking about him so much.
I drag my mind back to my maths prep but I’m nowhere near finished by the end of study hour.When the noise level out on the wing rises, I push my books away and go to see Tori.Or, rather, Tori and Emma.The fact that everyone else is sharing rooms again willtake some getting used to.In lower years, we were four to a room.I kind of miss that, chattering the nights away with Tori, Inés, and Amara.Knowing someone’s always there.The memory of us planning to go to St.Andrews together is like a dagger in my heart.We were full of ideas for sharing a flat there, still living together.No rules, no wing time, just my friends and me.Even Grace, who lives with her parents in Ebrington and doesn’t board, could finally have joined us.Mind you, Tori’s plans all revolve around Sinclair these days, and Grace is now hoping to study law at Cambridge.
Sometimes I wonder if there’s something wrong with me because, while I used to long for freedom after our A levels, the thought of being cast out into the world now makes me panic.I’ve always been stressed out by change, but it’s worse as I’m getting older.I left home young to board at school, but that was hardly fleeing the nest, given that I see Dad the whole time and can go home to him and Mum any weekend I like.The idea of my familiar life at Dunbridge being a thing of the past gnaws at my belly.I don’t want us all to leave here.I don’t want my time at boarding school to be just a memory that fades with every passing year.I don’t want to come back someday and find I don’t know any of the pupils and even the teachers have forgotten my name.I want something to hold on to.Is that really too much to ask?These days, I’m increasingly scared there’s no such thing.
As I’m heading toward my friends’ room, the door opens, and Emma walks out.She’s in her running clothes, so she gives me a wave, holds the door for me, and disappears.
I knock on the doorframe when I can’t see Tori anywhere.Is she in the bathroom?But then she pops up from under the desk.
“Oh, hi,” she says, clapping the dust off her trousers.“My bloody plug’s not working again.”
I shut the door and drop down onto her bed.It wouldn’t occur to me to ask if I can come in or sit down.This must be what it’s like to have a brother or sister.Knocking is as good as it gets.
“Have you asked Ms.Barnett to get an electrician?”
“Too lazy,” Tori responds.“Just as well Emma’s still works.”She plumps down beside me.“What’s up?”
“Nothing.Do you have time?”
Tori glances at her watch.“Theater club in half an hour.”
“Oh, right,” I say hastily.I learned only recently that Tori joined the theater club at the start of term.Possibly she was trying to spare my feelings.It was the evening after she and Sinclair starred in last year’s play when the fire broke out in the west wing.“I just wondered if you could fill me in on what you’re covering at the moment.”
“English or maths?”asks Tori.
I hesitate.“Both?”
She looks at me in the way I can’t stand.“Livy...”
“No, Tori, seriously.I need to know.”
