“Am I being thrown out of my own room yet again?What am I doing wrong here?”
I wrap my arms around my upper body, and as the tears run down my cheeks, Sinclair seems to twig.He backs out of the room without another word and shuts the door quietly.
“Spill,” Tori insists, but I can’t get the words out.All I can do is shrug.My throat laces up tighter than ever as she hugs me.
“Livy, you’re scaring me,” she whispers.
“We had a fight,” I manage.“He...”I pause.He had a lighter in his hand, and I had a panic attack.That’s what I should tell Tori, but for some reason, I can’t.All I can think of is Colin’s wrist and the flame on his skin.It was only for a split second, but I saw it.And there’s only one explanation for what I saw.“God knows.We argued and he walked out.”
I can’t tell her.That I told Colin about the fire.That he saw my scars, that he let go of me and ran away.I’m not naive enough to think he wasn’t fazed.I saw his face, which froze into a mask as his eyes rested on me.He couldn’t stand the sight of me.Fuck knows what it reminded him of, what emotions it stirred up in him, why he didn’t fucking stay, to help me, to console me.
Because it’s not his bloody problem.Because the guy clearly has enough issues of his own and doesn’t need someone who freaks out the whole time.But part of me, a tiny wee utterly pathetic part of me, remembers the night he slept in my room.Colin’s arms around my body as he held me tight.I thought we’d made progress.I thought things were serious.
“Really?”Tori asks.I can hear that she’s cross, and I know I could fool her.“What kind of arsehole is he?”
I don’t defend him.It hurt too much to see Colin go.Why did he just walk out?Why does he sit around in his room with a lighter, and why does thinking about it give me bellyache?I don’t want all this.I want to get back to when he was lying in my bed and we were kissing and it felt like the rules of this game we’re playing might actually be a bit simpler than I thought.But clearly I was wrong.Nothing is simple, nothing.
“Forget him, Livy, seriously, he’s not worth it,” Tori tells me, because she’s trying to be a good best friend, but the truth is, she has no idea.She doesn’t know that that’s not an option anymore, hasn’t been for ages.OK, at first, I wanted to tell him “Fuck you,” but I’m afraid that too many people in his life have said that to him already.I can’t explain why I get that feeling, not to myself, not to Tori.Maybe she’s right, maybe I really should finish it with this guy—after all, he clearly can’t wait to get kicked out of the school.Because what will I do if he achieves that?There was a time when I’d have been fine with it, but things have changed.I’d miss him.More than that.I don’t know what I’d do if Colin suddenly wasn’t here.This is the moment I realize I’ve got a major problem.
My phone buzzes in my hoodie pocket.I free myself from Tori’s arms and pull it out.It’s Dad, asking if I’m ready.What’s he talking about?Then I remember.I’m meant to be going home this weekend because it’s been ages since he and Mum and me were all together, just the three of us.I haven’t spent a weekend with my parents since I got back to school.It’s not like I used to be over there all the time, but since Mum and her affair, the idea of sitting around the dinner table with her and Dad, playing athappy families, makes me want to boak.Even now, the thought of it ties my stomach in knots.But I don’t want to be a bad daughter either, and to be honest, what is there for me here?A choice between not sleeping for fear of nightmares and bumping into Colin in the corridors.I don’t want either.I want some peace and quiet.Maybe a weekend at homeisactually what I need.
“Dad,” I say, looking up.Tori frowns at me.“He’s waiting for me.I’m going home for the weekend.”
“OK,” she says, after a wee while.“Maybe that’s not such a bad thing.”
I force myself to smile.“We’ll see.”
24
Olive
It’s not going to be good.I realize that when Dad asks me three times on the drive to Edinburgh if everything’s OK.I say “Yeah” three times, and stare out of the window to stop him seeing I’m close to tears.I manage not to cry.By the time we get home, I’m more or less in control.Or so I think.Mum’s not here, she’s working, which means she could be back any time, or not until the wee hours.A birth takes as long as it takes, she always says, and I believe her, but for some time now, I’ve found myself thinking that her work as a community midwife is excellent cover for spending nights away from home.It makes me want to boak.
She isn’t back by the time we sit down to dinner, and she still isn’t back when we move to the couch, ostensibly to watch a film, but then Dad asks how things are going and, in the end, I talk to him.Reluctantly at first, but after a while I see that it’s doing me good.And then I tell him about Colin, which I really didn’t plan to do.
“That’s nice, Olive,” he says, his voice deliberately nonchalant.“I’m sure it wasn’t easy for him to start at a new school either.”
“Presumably not.”I shrug.“But he isn’t planning to stay long.”
“Really?”
“Well, that’s what he says.”
“Hm.”Dad leans back slightly.“That would be a shame.”
“Yeah,” I say, hardly recognizing myself.If anyone had told me a couple of weeks ago that I’d ever think that, I’d have laughed at them.But here we are.“And what I said earlier wasn’t true.Nothing’s all right.”
“What’s wrong, pet?”
“I told him about the fire.And Colin...”I falter.“I don’t know, he reacted really weirdly.”
“Uh-huh?”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have told him.”
Dad looks at me, a funny expression on his face.“It’s never wrong to tell the truth, Olive.Don’t let anyone tell you it is.”
I gulp hard and nod, because my throat’s gone dry.“You think?”
