Page 117 of The Bargain

“Fuck, yeah, she’s been kicked out. Couldn’t get you out without getting her hands dirty, could she?”

But the truth is that she could’ve. Her mum adores her, she would’ve done anything for her, including saving me without Desdemona having to ruin her reputation, miss her exams, get expelled.

Dimitri gives me a sidelong glance and adds, “Her mum’s picking her up today, actually.”

My stomach drops. Sophie didn’t say anything—but she didn’t drive away after dropping me off. I assumed she was doing some work stuff on her phone or something. There’s a lurching sensation in my chest. Why didn’t Sophie say anything? Did Desdemona not want me to know? Does she not want to see me?

Well, too fucking bad.

I jump to my feet, glaring at Dimitri. “You couldn’t tell me earlier?”

“I’m telling you now.” He smirks, flashing white teeth, and tilts his head. “Go get your girl already, man. You’re giving me second-hand embarrassment.”

I flip him the finger and sprint away to the sinister sound of his laughter.

I reach the girls’ dormitories just as Desdemona is hugging her friends goodbye. She’s wearing a white T-shirt tucked into blue jeans, both impeccably creaseless. Gone is the Spearcrest uniform, the ribbon in her hair, all the shiny badges she’s painstakingly collected over the years.

My heart sinks. She’s really been expelled.

Years of hard work, of meetings, of responsibilities, only for it to all end, just like that.

She finally finishes her goodbyes, and when she turns, her eyes fall on me, widen almost imperceptibly. Those dark brown eyes, like melted chocolate—like her mum’s. I used to think Desdemona was cold as ice, but when I look at her now, standing in a ray of late afternoon sunlight, she looks like an open flame.

“If it isn’t our virtuous and irreproachable head girl,” I call out. “Getting herself kicked out.”

Which is snide and mocking and gets me some shocked glares and gasps from the other girls. But it’s still better than saying what I actually want to say.

Why did you do this? Why did you save me? Why are you leaving?

Seeing her like this—stripped of her title, torn from her friends, being cast out of the very place she’s spent years trying to impress and honour—hurts so much more than I ever thought it could. But if she did all this because she told me the truth, the last time I saw her—because she loves me—then you’d never fucking know.

Like the proud, stuck-up thing she is, she narrows her eyes and wrinkles her nose.

“Have you been smoking?”

The pain doesn’t fade, but it’s mingling with other things now. Joy and desire, the relief of seeing her, finally, of hearing her voice, of going toe to toe with her, once more.

“Why?” I’m moving without realising, slow, lazy steps up the path towards her, and she’s moving too, like she can’t help herself. “You gonna put me in detention?”

She rolls her eyes. “I’m no longer head girl, as you well know.”

Of course I know. I’ll never forget what you did, Desdemona, not as long as I live.

The first person to know I was worthless and still choose me.

“I told you not to do anything stupid, didn’t I?” I say instead, and it’s crazy how much I can’t help the affection that’s spilling into my voice, can’t help reaching closer, wanting to touch her cheek, which looks like pink velvet, or her hair, which would feel, I imagine, like running my fingers through pure sunlight.

“I didn’t do anything stupid,” she says, and she’s almost within arm’s reach now, within touching distance, holding distance, kissing distance. “Unlike you.” She shakes her head. “I told you to give me that phone back, didn’t I?”

“What phone?” I give her my most winning smile. “My lawyer says I didn’t do anything wrong.”

Behind Desdemona, I can see her friends watching, and girls’ faces crowding the windows of the dorm building—every single floor. I don’t even care, because now, Desdemona’s little frown is beginning to melt, and the corners of her lips are twitching ever so slightly.

“That’s because a good lawyer will do anything to protect you,” she says.

“Hm, must be where you get it from, then.” My voice comes out soft, but she’s so close now that I can smell her perfume, her soap, the warm mint of her breath. And fuck she’s beautiful, and we have so little time left, and really, how was I ever not going to fall in love with her when everything about her is worth loving? “She’s just like you, your mum. Strong and smart and scary as fuck.”

“You’re scared of me?” Desdemona says, and her mouth is shaped like I should kiss it every single day, like I should be kissing it right now. “You don’t look scared.”