Page 67 of I Love an… Earl


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Helen’s smile tightens. “You’ve known her for, what, five minutes? This isn’t about her, is it? This is about you being bored.”

I let out a short, humourless laugh.

“She makes me smile, Helen. She makes me laugh. Do you know how rare that is for me? You barely made me twitch a muscle in my face.”

Helen’s eyes flash and she steps closer, voice dropping into something silkier, nastier.

“Oh, I made you twitch, darling,” she sneers. “Plenty of times. Just not the muscle in your face.”

I almost laugh, but it’s not amused, and I’m done being polite.

“That’s a bodily function, Helen. Get over it.”

Her mouth falls open, the realisation hitting like a sucker punch. Then she laughs, brittle, the sound of someone trying to hold the upper hand even as it slips through their fingers.

“What, so you’re…” She waves a hand, too casual, like she’s swatting away a fly, “…you’re in love with her or something?”

I don’t say a word.

Her smile falters.

“Jesus Christ, Tyler,” she hisses, the bite creeping back into her voice. “You’re in love with the jester.”

I let the words hang there. Don’t deny them. Don’t flinch.

Helen searches my face, waiting for me to laugh, to tell her she’s wrong, to give hersomething.

I give her nothing.

When I finally speak, my voice is calm. Steady.

“We’re over, Helen. Goodbye.”

I turn to head down the corridor, pushing through the quiet, to find an exit.

And stop.

There’s a man leaning casually against the wall just a few feet away, taking up more space than he needs to. Blond hair catching the light, annoyingly so. Karl, I realise after a beat. The guy who danced with Hayley yesterday.

His expression is unreadable.

No way he missed that little performance, and I can already hear the commentary in his head. Better than anything onEastenders.

I give him a curt nod, all I can manage, and push through the door into the night.

Cool air hits my face, crisp enough to clear the suffocating floral cloud of Helen’s perfume.

I keep walking. No plan. No destination. Just anywhere that isn’t here.

Away from Helen.

Away from the castle corridors, the music, the picture-perfect happiness spilling from every doorway.

Away from everything that feels too loud, too staged, too much.

I need space.

Clarity.