‘You know I don’t talk about this shite. But it’s you, so… Don’t make me regret it.’
Scottie’s giving me that same patient look he gets before a scrum. Ready to take the hit if it means I’ll finally cough up the truth. Don’t know what it is about that bearded ginger gremlin, but he’s got gravity. Calm. He’s the buffer that keeps half the team from knocking each other out after a shite game. Makes you trust him with stuff you wouldn’t tell your own shadow.
‘What if I cocked it up so bad there’s no coming back?’ I say into the December night without looking at him. ‘Destroyed the one good thing I ever had? She deserves better than me.’
Scottie flicks ash over the railing, giving me his calm, unimpressed signature look. ‘Maybe you did. And maybe she does. But that’s not for you to decide, is it?’
I let out a bitter laugh. ‘Cheers, mate.’
‘You’re my captain. You’re the one who always says to go after what you want, no matter how hard it is. Practice what you preach.’
I loathe how right he is.
Scottie stubs out his fag on the wall. ‘You’ve got two options. Keep pretending you’re fine, or swallow your pride and make it right. Your choice.’
He lets his hand rest on my shoulder for a few seconds before pushing past me and heading back inside. I watch his back as he goes, knowing I’ll owe him for this one.
I stay rooted to the spot, staring at the sky, fighting to breathe through the ache. It’s almost funny. I get my arse whooped by a bunch of massive raging bastards every week for a living and that doesn’t scare me half as much as this. Handing Charlie every broken piece and knowing it might not be enough. Her seeing the truth and realising I was never what she deserved. Loving her with everything I’ve got and still getting it wrong.
But Scottie’s right. I don’t get to decide what she deserves. That’s not my call. My call’s whether I’m willing to fight for her.
I push off the railing, blood roaring in my ears. She’s worth it. Every hit to the heart. Every breath. Every bruise to my soul.
Chapter24
Charlie
The Langley House School auditorium is packed with restless noise. Parents crammed into squeaky seats, fanning themselves with crumpled programmes and checking their watches like this is some monumental sacrifice. Velvet curtains ripple at the sides of the stage, garlands dripping down from the balcony railings. A Christmas tree squats near the foyer doors, twinkling like it’s making up for the rest of the grim mid-December drizzle in London.
It’s a private school, posh as hell, with excellent SEN support and a performing arts program that could rival some of the city’s fancy academies. I fought tooth and nail to get Hannah in here.
Worth it a hundred times over.
My sister wants to be a singer and an actress? My sisterwillbe a singer and an actress.
I wrench a breath free, fighting the surge rising beneath my sternum. Hannah’s bouncing beside me, her tulle skirt swishing with every move. She’s always had a great, eclectic sense of style. Only one of the things I admire about her. I smooth a stray hair off her forehead, resisting the full-body pull to scoop her into a bear hug. God, she’s buzzing like she’s had five espressos.
‘Charlie. Charlie! Miss Lorna says I’m third. Third! After the Year 13s do the boring carols. But what if my mic stops? Or I forget the words?’
‘Batteries are fresh. You’ll remember the words. There’s a monitor as well. And if you don’t, make up better ones and dazzle everyone with your moves.’
Her nose wrinkles. ‘But you’ll laugh.’
‘I’ll laugh either way. Because I’m happy, and you’re brilliant.’
She grins, her cheeks dimpling like always. It’s a little lopsided.
I shouldn’t feel this raw. I should be laser-focused on her. But there’s this gnawing in my stomach, this restless feeling like the ground’s about to crumble under me.
A huddle of girls in elf costumes shuffle past, giggling over a TikTok.
Hannah’s teaching assistant, Priya, shoots me a nod of encouragement. ‘We’ve got this, Charlie.’
I know. But my shoulders stay knotted. Because Dad’s somewhere in the crowd. I saw his shiny head glinting. I haven’t seen or talked to him in months and would like it to stay that way.
But nothing could’ve kept me from watching my sister shine on stage. Not even him.
‘Did you see my tights? They’ve got little stars on them!’ Hannah lifts her skirt, just about to flash the whole room. I yank it back down, laughing.
