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Beneath the Quiet Sky

Page 8

by L.H. Cosway

“You won’t lose your job. I haven’t told him you work at the hotel, and if you’d prefer, I won’t tell him at all, so your position is safe.”

“I don’t know. These rich kids can be pretty spoiled and vindictive. You never know what they’ll do when things don’t go their way.”

I had to bite my tongue because the most spoiled and vindictive person I’d ever met was sitting right beside her, and she couldn’t even see it. It was naïve of me to think we could get away from him cleanly. Graham was always going to come looking for Sloane once the dust settled. I was mad at myself for thinking the last month away from him was actually the end of it. Cockroaches always had a way of surviving.

“Fine, I’ll break up with him, then. Happy?” It came out short, but I just didn’t have the patience for her right then. She was worried about Tristan when she should’ve been far more concerned about her boyfriend and what disasters he was going to bring our way sooner or later.

“No! You can’t break up with him. Not now that you’re already dating.”

“Then I’ll stay with him forever. We’ll get married and have a bunch of kids. Now can I eat my tacos?”

In my peripheral, I could see Graham with his arms folded, smirking away. He always enjoyed it when Sloane and I fought so then he could sweep in and be the peacemaker, though on this occasion he seemed to be keeping quiet. His ego had taken a bruising earlier when Tristan stood up to him so he was enjoying my sister and me being at odds.

Sloane let out a stressed sigh and dismissed me with a wave of her hand. “Fine. Eat your tacos. I’m sure I’m just catastrophising. Honestly, Erin, I’m happy you’re settling in here.”

I felt a little guilty about lying to my sister, but it was worth it to keep Graham at arm’s length. Thinking I had a rich boyfriend whose father was an influential business owner in the town might make him leave me alone, at least for a while.

Several days passed uneventfully. I didn’t see much of Tristan because the rugby team were away playing at a national tournament. They returned on Friday, and the whole school was in celebration mode because the team had won some prestigious cup. I really wished I cared more sports because everyone seemed so pumped. Hell, even without being a rugby fan, I still found myself getting a little caught up in it.

It was the final class of the day, and I was heading towards art when I realised Tristan would be there. Nerves hit me. I was self-conscious about the scene that had played out with Graham the other day. Tristan had clearly been happy to help me out, but maybe that was all it was. A once-off bit of assistance during a tense situation. I was unsure if I should acknowledge him or just pretend like it never happened.

He was standing by his usual seat when I walked in, surrounded by several other students who were excitedly quizzing him about the tournament.

“It’s too bad you injured your knee, but at least you brought home the cup,” a girl with long brown hair said, gazing up at him like he was a celebrity.

“Are you still having us over to your house later?” a boy asked. “It’s fine if you’re not in the mood anymore. I tore my MCL last year, and the recovery was brutal.”

“I’ll be fine. It’s only a minor tear. The doctor said it’ll be four to six weeks of recovery, and then I’ll be back playing. Plus, they gave me some painkillers, so yeah, the party’s still on.”

Tristan had been injured during the rugby match? My attention went to his knee, and I noticed the bulge of material beneath his trousers. It must’ve been some kind of medical wrap. I’d never injured my knee before, but I imagined it was painful. His head began to turn my direction, but I quickly glanced away before he could catch me ogling him. Mr Carrigan entered the room then, and the group that had gathered around Tristan dispersed.

I tried to focus on the sketch I was working on, but I found myself glancing Tristan’s way every so often. On the third or fourth glance, I startled because he was already looking at me. Our eyes collided, and he shot me a little nod and a smile as if to say ‘hi’. My chest fluttered as I smiled back at him before returning my attention to the sketch. There were two tables between us, and a few minutes later, a small paper airplane landed in front of me. Was it from Tristan? Had he thrown it?

Glancing about to make sure no one was watching, I unfolded the paper and found a short note.

Party at my house tonight. Want to come?

Your “boyfriend” ;-)

Below the question was an address. Oh my. He was inviting me to a party at his house. My cheeks coloured at the way he’d signed off. I knew it was a tease, a throwback to what happened a few days previously, yet it still made my skin flush.

When I looked up, I found him watching me as though waiting for my response. I shot him a noncommittal shrug. He placed his hands together, prayerlike, as though begging me to say yes, all the while sporting a handsome grin. I couldn’t deny I found it charming.

“Fine, I’ll go,” I silently mouthed at him, and he punched the air in victory. I found myself grinning like a loon when he turned back to his work, and thankfully, Mr Carrigan hadn’t noticed the exchange.

When the class ended, the students who’d surrounded Tristan earlier swarmed him again, asking more questions about tonight’s party. I shot him a little smile as I passed by, and he looked like he was about to say something, but then a boy started talking at him, capturing his attention. I was a little disappointed that he was in such high demand because maybe we could’ve talked, walked out of school together and had a little chat about how our days had gone. Ugh, I was clearly developing a crush. Just like the rest of the student body, I was eager for Tristan’s attention, and that was exactly why I needed to snuff it out because I had no interest in competing with half the school.

I walked in the direction of the nearest grocery store because Sloane had given me money to grab some things for dinner. By the time I got home, the apartment was still empty. It appeared Graham hadn’t been lying about the job he’d gotten on the construction site because he was gone most of the day this whole week. He usually only got home about half an hour before my sister. It meant I had the place to myself for an hour or two after school, which was the only thing helping me keep a hold of my sanity.

I put away the groceries, then went into my room, putting on my favourite Sugababes album before settling in to do my homework. Even though I told Tristan I’d go to his party, I was still on the fence. Sure, he’d invited me, but he was so popular I was certain he’d be surrounded by people all night, and I’d end up hovering in a corner with no one to talk to.

I was still trying to decide when I heard the front door of the apartment open and shut. I tensed just like I always did every time Graham got home. Normally, though, if I stayed in my room, he wouldn’t come looking for me, not like that bone chilling night when he was drunk.

If I hadn’t locked my door, what might’ve happened?

A part of me was still angry that Sloane had dismissed my fear, like it was perfectly normal for her twenty-nine-year-old boyfriend to be drunkenly hammering down her then seventeen-year-old sister’s bedroom door in the middle of the night. My feelings for my sister had been so mixed up ever since then. I loved her for all she’d done for me over the years, for caring for me when there was no one else. But her dismissal of my concern regarding Graham had a constant low feeling of anger and resentment simmering within me.

I hated feeling this way. Why couldn’t he have just stayed in Roscommon where he belonged instead of following us here?