Watching lacrosse without being allowed to play just sucks.
My team is pumped with adrenaline as they come out of the locker room, and one player after another applauds me as I stand like a spectator at the edge of the pitch between the stands. I put up with the misery, but at this moment I just regret everything, especially the decision to mix up the back-to-school party a bit.
Worst of all, Roger Cree, one of the freshmen, has taken over my position and is doing so well that he’s becoming a serious competitor. If he had been bad, my place in the team would have been secure, but like this? How am I supposed to know that the coach doesn’t want to keep him in the team after my penalty work has expired? Especially since he seems to get along well with Cyril and the others lately.
When he comes and holds out his fist to me, I reluctantly bump into it with mine and then sit down with the substitutes on the bench at the edge of the field. I cross my ankles and watch as the opposing team runs onto the field and builds up in front of my boys. The team is good, I recognize many of the players from last season. One attacker in particular is unpredictable and incredibly fast. Hopefully Cyril has him in view.
‘Hey, Beaufort. It’s a shame that you can’t play,’ one of the substitutes suddenly says to me. His name is Matthew, but I doubt we’ve ever exchanged a word before.
‘Yes, man. Total crap,’ agrees another.
‘I don’t understand at all what this punishment is about. The action was totally awesome.’
‘Above all, it’s your last year. How annoying to spend the last season on the bench.’
Okay, that’s enough. I get up jerkily. Without saying a word, I walk forward to the edge of the field. I’m happy about the sunglasses I’m wearing. Not only because the sun is shining damn bright for an October day today, but above all because no one can see how bad I feel.
I stand at a distance from Coach Freeman and survey the field with my arms crossed. It’s cruel to have to watch my team and not be able to do anything. After kick-off, it takes less than five minutes for the first opponent’s goal to be scored.
Suddenly, footsteps sound behind me. I glance over my shoulder and see Ruby and her friend Lin running towards the field. Both have bright red heads and disheveled hair. When they come to a stop, Ruby curses loudly. She hasn’t spotted me yet, so I get the opportunity to scrutinize her inconspicuously.
She wears her school uniform, although most of our classmates come to the games in casual clothes or team shirts. She holds a tripod in one hand, a notebook in the other, and on her back, as always, she carries her hideous backpack, which looks like it will fall apart at any second. It’s pretty much the color of vomit, but somehow she looks cute with it. Like a ninja turtle. A disheveled ninja turtle with a bright red head.
I stroll leisurely over to the two of them and watch them as they set up the tripod and an expensive-looking camera.
‘Can I help?’ I ask.
Ruby drives around to me and looks at me with wide eyes, obviously still not getting used to my attempts to make friends with her. I greeted her in the corridors all week, and each time she flinched, as if she was simply not used to someone talking to her outside of class.
‘Did we miss something?’ she asks hurriedly. Her gaze goes rapidly across the field and then to Coach Freeman. But he is so engrossed in the game that he didn’t notice that Ruby and Lin were late.
‘Ridgeview scored a goal. Slam dunk,’ I reply.
Ruby nods and scribbles something in her notebook. ‘Great, thank you.’
Meanwhile, Lin sets up the camera and checks the settings before she starts taking pictures.
After that, both are engrossed in documenting the game.
I realize that I actually much prefer to watch Ruby than my team. At least the sight of them hurts much less. We’ve long since caught up and are in the process of finishing Ridgeview off – but I can’t be happy about it with the best will in the world. When Cree provides the assist for two goals and even scores one himself in the second half, I realize that the boys don’t need me at all. I would like to disappear on the spot, and I have no idea why I don’t just do it.
Instead, I stand on the sidelines with a stony face and let it get to me, clap when a goal is scored, curse when the opponents make a move against us, and answer all the questions Ruby and Lin ask me in between.
After just under an hour and a half, I don’t feel like I’ve taken the world by storm, as I usually do when we’ve won a game. I’m just completely exhausted and can’t bear to be here for a second longer. The thought of going to Cyril’s party tonight and collecting expressions of sympathy from everyone who saw me standing on the sidelines today makes me sick. Without a word, I turn around before the team comes off the field and walk towards the school. I dig my phone out of my pocket and press the speed dial button for Percy to pick me up.
‘James!’
I glance over my shoulder.
Ruby ran after me. Her bangs and the wind do not get along very well, individual strands stand vertically upwards. She notices my gaze and presses it smoothly onto her forehead again. That’s one of her quirks that I noticed in the last week. In the meantime, I also know about the little comb that she carries around in her pencil case and uses when she feels unobserved.
‘What’s up?’ I ask.
‘Are you okay?’
Why does she ask me that? Nobody asks me something like that – because simply no one is interested in how I’m doing. And even if that wasn’t the case, most people would be too afraid or respect for me to ask me that question.
‘Must be pretty bad to watch the others play, right?’ she asks softly.
‘Yep.’
She steps from one leg to the other. ‘Would you rather be alone?’
Uncertainly, I rub my neck and shrug my shoulders. Thank God Alistair keeps me from answering. With a bright red head, he jogs across the grassy area and comes to a stop in front of us. ‘Beaufort! Where are you going, my friend?’
Okay, the question is even shittier than Ruby’s. ‘Home.’
‘Have you forgotten? Today we are celebrating at Cy’s.’
I haven’t forgotten that, but unfortunately Cyril’s party is the last thing I feel like doing now. But I can’t tell Alistair that. The team won, and I’m still the captain, although currently suspended. Not celebrating this victory with my boys would be unfair. Not to mention that I don’t feel like the questions that would certainly come if I didn’t show up tonight.
‘Sure, I’m in.’ Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Ruby’s expression change. I avoid looking at them directly.
‘Don’t make such a face, man. It’s going to be great. We have the whole house to ourselves.’
I just grumble.
‘Hey, why don’t you come with me, Ruby?’ I look at Alistair warningly, but he just looks back and forth between Ruby and me, grinning.
‘You don’t have to come,’ I say quickly. Cyril’s party is definitely not the right place for someone like Ruby. ‘I don’t think you’d like it there.’
I realize that I said exactly the wrong thing when Ruby frowns. She looks like I challenged her – but that’s the opposite of what I wanted. ‘How do you know what I like and what I don’t?’
Alistair coughs restrainedly, and I give him a scathing look. He did that on purpose. He knows exactly what’s going on at these parties and what the people like there.
‘I’m very glad to come, Alistair. ‘Thank you for the invitation,’ Ruby says with a smile that is far too charming to be real. When am I supposed to be where?’
Alistair is just opening her mouth to answer, when I intervene.
‘I’ll pick you up.’
Ruby’s shoulders stiffen.
‘There’s no need for that, James.’
‘I have no problem picking you up on the way.’
She raises her eyebrows. ‘Do you even have a driver’s license?’
Alistair lets out an appreciative whistle. Apparently, he likes watching me verbally chafing. Shaking my head, I look at Ruby.
‘Percy will drive us, if that’s okay with you.’
Now she grins from ear to ear. ‘That’s even very okay with me.’
‘Percy, huh? I don’t think it’s bad either. He has something of Antonio Banderas,’ comments Alistair.
‘That’s what I said!’ Ruby laughs – and I feel warm.
Damn it. Why can’t I keep a cool head in her presence? I promised Lydia that I would keep an eye on her – and that’s all there is between us. I just have to remind myself often enough.
‘Well, Percy will be with you at eight.’
Ruby nods. ‘Fabulous.’
Ruby
Cyril Vega lives in the largest and most pompous house I have ever seen in my life. I’m not even sure if ‘house’ is the correct term for what I’m looking at. The property, which we only got to after Percy’s license plate was checked by a security guard via camera, seems endless. When I look left and right, I see nothing but well-kept lawns and symmetrically planted shrubs and trees.
When James and I get out of the car, I stop for a moment, tilt my head back and let the impressive façade work its magic on me. The high columns to the right and left of the entrance and the expansive balcony directly above make the manor house seem to be from another era.
James next to me seems completely unimpressed as we climb the white stone staircase to the oversized front door. But that’s no wonder. On the one hand, Cyril is one of his best friends, and on the other hand, the house in which he lives is certainly at least as big. I feel my palms first get cold and then moist.
What am I actually doing here?
I swore to myself that I would never go to one of those strange parties. But a single stupid comment from James was enough to awaken my fighting spirit. I just had to do the opposite of what he wanted, which in retrospect is just totally stupid. I’ve been annoyed since Monday that the outing with James destroyed my invisibility at Maxton Hall – and now I’m accompanying him to this party, which will be attended by a large part of my classmates. I didn’t think for a second this afternoon about what this will mean for me. People are guaranteed to talk about us again – probably even more.
Even from here we can hear the music and loud voices of the party guests. For a split second, I think about faking a sudden nausea and running away. But I don’t want to give James the satisfaction. So I just rub my hands on my skirt and clear my throat. James gives me a sideways glance, which I ignore. Then he opens the front door with a key that, strangely enough, he carries on his bunch of keys.
We enter the entrance hall, which is so imposing that it distracts me from my nervousness for a moment. It is tiled with marble and lavishly furnished, with gold and white accents everywhere in addition to the subtle colours of the furniture. A huge chandelier hangs from the ceiling, and to the right and left two staircases lead up to a gallery at asymmetrical angles.
At first glance, it looks like the party is taking place throughout the house. The music seems to come from another room, but there are also a few guests here in the foyer. None of them pays attention to us. I breathe a sigh of relief.
‘What are they doing up there?’ I ask James, pointing to the twenty or so boys and girls standing in the gallery.
‘Playing a strange version of beer pong that is unique to Cyril,’ he replies.
I watch a guy drop something from above – ping-pong balls, as I realize belatedly. They shoot down into the foyer, where a row of cups is set up. A few of the balls hit right in, but most of them missed, whereupon the guys cheer, a few girls scream, and it feels like all of them are drinking.
‘I don’t understand.’
‘Neither do I,’ he replies.
‘You’ve done it!’ someone suddenly bawls above us. I look up and just catch Cyril swinging onto one of the railings. He clings to it and races down. The sight alone is enough to make me feel nauseous. Wren appears behind him, but opts for the safer option and takes the steps. As he walks, he tilts his head back and empties his glass.
Cyril is the first to join us and greets James with a half hug, patting him on the back with his hand. ‘I hope we’ve made you proud today.’
I can feel James tensing up next to me. ‘You did,’ he says in a neutral tone that neither expresses exuberant joy nor betrays the fact how much it must have frustrated him today not to be able to play himself.
Cyril’s gaze lands on me. ‘And you’re …?’ he asks, his icy blue eyes gliding over me from top to bottom. He looks at my white blouse with blue vertical stripes and my black pleated skirt and looks as if he would wrinkle his nose at any moment.
Asshole. As if he looks better just because his black shirt probably cost more than my complete outfit.
‘Ruby,’ James jumps in and introduces us to each other. ‘Ruby, this is Cyril.’
‘Ruby! Alistair told me he invited you.’ Wren comes up to us grinning. I suppress the impulse to look away.
‘Hi,’ I answer, forcing a smile on my lips.
He greets James briefly, then his gaze is on me again The message he sends me with his dirty, arrogant smile is unmistakable: This is my kingdom. Here I have the strings in my hand.
The next moment, James puts his hand on my back. ‘Cy, be a good host and offer us a drink.’
He speaks in his I-am-James-Beaufort tone, and while I would never let him boss me around like that, his friends don’t seem to mind. They just laugh and then lead us past the stairs to the back of the foyer. As he walks, Cyril picks up a few of the balls and throws them up before opening a door that leads into a large salon.
The room is smaller than the foyer, but there must be fifty people in it, talking or dancing. The music is deafeningly loud, and smoke rises to my nostrils and makes my eyes water.
I can count the parties I’ve been to so far on one hand. There were small get-togethers in our park in Gormsey and – just once – the fifteenth birthday party of a classmate. She had invited me out of false politeness, and I went because Mum insisted that I make an attempt to get closer to my classmates. It ended with me standing in a corner for half the evening and strangely bobbing to bad music, while I was counting the minutes inwardly until I could go home.
What is happening here in front of my eyes has nothing at all in common with it. Instead of cheap beer in plastic cups, guests drink expensive spirits from crystal glasses. The music does not come from a ghetto blaster, but from a sound system whose speakers are built into the walls at various points. I can also see a lot of naked skin.
So this is an elite party.
I look around and try to absorb all the impressions. The bass of the music is so loud that the ground vibrates under my feet.
Only at second glance do I discover the glazed conservatory that adjoins the room. There is a huge illuminated pool in it, which I will definitely stay away from.
A few guests swim in it in their underwear and splash the people on the edge wet. Others sit smoking and drinking on velvet-covered sofas that look antique and must have cost a fortune.
I am so overwhelmed by the situation that I only realize that James is asking me something when it is already too late. ‘Excuse me?’
James bends down a bit to me so that his mouth is at the level of my ear. ‘What you want to drink, Ruby Bell.’
A shiver runs down my spine, and goosebumps spread across my arms. I ignore both. ‘A Coke, if there is one. Otherwise water.’
James leans back a bit and looks me in the eye. ‘Does it bother you if I drink?’
I shake my head. ‘No.’
‘Very nice. I’ll be right back.’
The next moment, he and Cyril have disappeared. Wren stays behind and looks at me again with that knowing grin on his face.
‘You don’t drink anything?’ His voice is pure provocation.
It takes me an insane amount of willpower not to turn around on the spot and leave him standing. Or yelling at him in front of everyone. But I managed to ignore him for two years – I wouldn’t let a few stupid sayings throw me off my game right now.
‘No,’ I answer curtly.
Wren is getting a little closer. I retreat immediately.
‘Why not, Ruby?’ he asks, taking another step towards me until I feel the wall behind me, ‘Have you had any bad experiences with alcohol?’
I can smell the alcohol on his breath, and I also notice how huge his pupils are. I wonder if he’s getting drunk on anything other than just Scotch.
‘You know exactly why I don’t drink, Wren,’ I reply coldly, straightening my shoulders. If he doesn’t leave me alone, I’m going to hurt him seriously. To my left, in the corner of my eye, I have discovered a dark wooden chest of drawers on which there are several statues and a lamp.
I know how to defend myself.
‘I remember the evening very well,’ Wren replies. He raises his left arm and supports himself against the wall next to my head.
‘But I don’t,’ I manage between clenched teeth. So far, he has always left me alone at school. He never made a hint of what happened that evening two years ago – why today of all days?
‘Really?’ he murmurs and comes even closer.
Short circuit. I reach out with both hands and push him firmly away from me. ‘I don’t feel like repeating it, Wren.’
He takes my hands and interlaces our fingers. In panic, I look around in all directions. ‘I can still hear exactly what you whispered to me back then.’
‘That was only because you bottled me.’
‘Oh, really?’ Again he has that dirty smile on his face. ‘Alcohol brings the most secret thoughts to the surface, Ruby. You wanted it at least as much as I did.’
I freeze as the memory of that night finally makes it to the surface of my memory: Wren’s gasping breath, his restless hands all over my body. The thought of it makes me hot. On the one hand out of shame, on the other hand because I actually enjoyed it. Only the way it happened still disturbs me today.
Wren is just opening his mouth again when a voice sounds behind us, which sounds stern and bored at the same time. ‘Leave her alone, Fitzgerald.’
His eyes widen, and I look past him in amazement. Lydia has joined us. She gives Wren an unnerved look before she reaches for my hand without another word and pulls me away from him and a bit into the room. Only when we are out of earshot does she look at me with raised eyebrows.
‘Who would have thought that someone like you, of all people, would carry around a dirty secret?’
Panic fills me, and I clench my hands into fists at my sides. But before I can say a word, she raises her hands. An amused smile plays around her lips. ‘Don’t worry. I don’t tell anyone.’
I stare at her, and it takes a moment before I realize what she said. ‘I don’t care who knows about it,’ I say defiantly, even though we both know it’s an outright lie.
If I could, I would like to erase that evening from my own memory. I was fifteen at the time and had just arrived at Maxton Hall. It was the first event I had the privilege of attending, and I was so excited and nervous that I happily accepted all the cups of punch that Wren brought me. I didn’t know that he had added alcohol from a hip flask to get me drunk. And when he pulled me into the hallway and kissed me, I was totally euphoric. Wren was one of the most handsome boys I’ve ever seen. And he wanted me. Getting my first kiss from him felt like a rush.
It wasn’t until the next morning that I realized how wrong it was of him to bottle me unknowingly, and how naïve I had been. Since then, I haven’t touched alcohol.
Opposite me, Lydia raises an eyebrow. ‘Really? I would have expected your reputation to be worth more to you.’
‘The fact that I was bottled and made out with someone won’t destroy my reputation. It’s not like I’m having an affair with a teacher.’
I regret the words the moment I said them. Lydia turns pale. The next second, she takes a threatening step towards me. ‘You said you’d keep your mouth shut. I—’ She falls silent abruptly and distances herself again.
‘There you are.’ James steps up to us and hands me a glass of coke, ice cubes and a slice of lemon. He himself holds an expensive-looking crystal glass with brown liquid in his hand.
Slowly he looks back and forth between me and Lydia. ‘All right?’
‘Brother, can you perhaps bring me something to drink? My glass is empty,’ says Lydia, fluttering her eyelashes a few times exaggeratedly.
James rolls his eyes, but takes her glass and turns around again to head towards the bar. As soon as he has disappeared, Lydia’s smile fades again. She looks at me with cool eyes, and I swallow hard. I wish I hadn’t come here. I don’t want to be in this room, but at home, where I feel safe and secure. This is the exact opposite of that – an adventure I’m not up to.
‘Listen,’ I say, before she can threaten me again. ‘I’m sorry I just said that.’
Her mouth opens and closes. Then she looks at me skeptically. ‘What?’
‘I am not your enemy,’ I continue. ‘And I don’t care what’s going on between you and Mr. Sutton. I will not reveal your secret.’
She presses her lips tightly together.
‘I just want my peace and quiet,’ I keep trying.
‘Why should I believe you?’ she asks with narrow eyes. ‘I don’t know you at all.’
‘That’s right,’ I say. ‘But James knows me. And I promised him.’
‘You promised him,’ she repeats, as if she didn’t quite understand the meaning of the words.
‘Yes,’ I say hesitantly.
For a moment she is silent and just looks at me suspiciously. But then her facial expressions change. Suddenly, she no longer looks skeptical, but as if some pieces of the puzzle have come together in her head. Her gaze wanders from my face to a point above my shoulder. ‘So that’s how it is,’ she says finally.
Confused, I turn around trying to figure out what she means. I see James standing at the bar. He takes out one bottle after the other, lifts them up and studies the signs.
‘What’s what?’ I ask.
She smiles at me reassuringly. ‘Don’t worry, you’re not the first.’
I have no idea what she’s talking about.
‘Many girls succumb to his charm much earlier.’
That’s when it clicks. And I can’t help it: I snort away.
Lydia is taken aback. ‘What’s so funny?’
‘I don’t know if anyone has ever told you that, but your brother is pretty much the opposite of charming.’
She stares at me, and it looks like she doesn’t know whether to hiss at me or laugh. James takes the decision from her, because he chooses this moment to come back to us.
‘Here,’ he says, holding out her drink to Lydia. ‘For you, sister.’
She glances at it briefly, then looks back at me. ‘I’m keeping an eye on you, Ruby.’ With these words, she turns around and disappears into the crowd.
‘What was that?’ asks James irritated, looking after her reddish-blond hair, which eventually disappears among the people.
When I just shrug my shoulders, he frowns.
‘What did she say?’
‘Nothing. She doesn’t trust me and doesn’t think I’m really keeping my mouth shut.’
James lets his gaze wander around the room. It seems as if he has to think about his next words, as if he is not sure what he can and cannot tell me. ‘It is difficult for her to trust other people.’
I look at him questioningly.
‘Very few people would keep such a secret to themselves, Ruby.’ He shrugs his shoulders. ‘On the contrary. Ninety percent of people would sell it to the press or try to blackmail us with it. It wouldn’t be the first time that someone has spent time with us just to get our family secrets.’ He avoids my gaze as he says this, and instead continues to watch the dancing people in the middle of the room.
‘That sounds shitty.’
One corner of his mouth contorts slightly. ‘It is.’
I’ve never thought about that. It doesn’t excuse James’ behavior, but this information allows me to understand him – and Lydia – a little better.
‘I wonder what I’m doing here if everyone distrusts me so much.’
Thoughtfully, he lets his gaze glide over my face. He raises his hand as if to touch me, but lets it fall again and takes a sip from the glass that was actually intended for Lydia instead. His second drink. ‘You’re here because Alistair invited you,’ he says finally.
‘That’s right,’ I murmur and tuck a strand of hair behind my ear that tickles my chin incessantly. ‘Alistair. If it had been up to you, I wouldn’t be here now.’
‘It is not.’
‘What then?’ I have no idea why the thought that he doesn’t want me here bothers me so much.
‘This is just not where you belong, Ruby.’
It feels like he’s stabbed me with something – a small knife, perhaps. It costs me a lot of effort not to let the pain show.
‘So… That’s not what I meant,’ he says immediately. Apparently, I didn’t manage the pain-not showing as well as I thought.
‘That’s clear.’ I turn away from him and look through the large glass windows to the pool, where someone has just jumped in, fully clothed. After a few seconds, James pushes himself close in front of me and fills my entire field of vision.
‘Hey, come on. I just wanted to say that I don’t feel good about letting you around some people. In the end, they try to sell you something. I feel responsible for you.’
‘I’m good at taking care of myself, thank you very much,’ I reply bitingly.
Again he looks at me intently, and I take a mini sip of my Coke to break eye contact. When he looks at me like that, I get warm, and it’s already much too stuffy in here.
‘I don’t want to be a block on your leg. Just act like you normally do,’ I finally say with a wave of my hand that encloses the whole room. Whatever James does at such parties – he should do it. I don’t want him to act like a babysitter.
He nods and downs his second drink. Then he takes my glass from me and places it with his on one of the bar tables. The next moment he is back with me and reaches for my hand. He pulls me further into the middle of the room, right between the dancing people. My heart is pounding wildly, and I wonder what the hell he’s up to as he pulls me a little closer to him. His chest brushes against mine, and he squeezes my hand briefly before he lets go of it and begins to move to the beat of the music.
James Beaufort dances at me. He looks down at me with a smile and makes circular movements with his hips.
‘What are you doing?’ I ask confused. I’m the only one standing stiff as a stick on the dance floor.
‘I do what I usually do at parties,’ James replies.
Again, his gaze seems like a challenge that I simply have to accept. I try to move the way he does. When someone bumps into me from behind, I stumble against him, and he puts a hand on my waist to support me. My throat becomes dry, and my heart beats faster. An immense heat overcomes me when I look up at him again. We are so tightly pressed together that not even a sheet of paper would fit between us.
Someone next to us is cheering. I tear my gaze away from James’ face and look around. At least five pairs of eyes are focused on us.
I must have lost my mind. James and I may live peacefully together now, but this is something completely different. And if I don’t want rumors about us to spread like wildfire in school, then I urgently need to get off this dance floor now.
‘I have to go to the toilet,’ I manage. James immediately withdraws. His eyes sparkle knowingly, and at this moment I’m far too confused to understand what that means. He nods to the left corner of the salon, where a corridor begins behind a high arch of the wall. ‘First on the right, second door on the left.’
I slip between the dancing boys and girls and then walk down the hallway. Oil paintings of Vegas family members hang on the wall, and the wallpaper shimmers green and gold in the glow of the lamps. The dark red carpet under my feet has an elaborate pattern of various abstract shapes reminiscent of animals. I’m going to turn right, as James said. This part of the hallway is completely empty, and I lean against the wall for the time being.
I really have no idea what I’m doing here. Apart from the fact that I feel completely out of place, James unsettles me. His touches, his looks, his whispered words – if I didn’t know better, I’d say he’s flirting with me.
When he stood at my front door on Monday and said that he didn’t want to go back to the past, I didn’t expect something like this to come out of it. Does he dance like that with all his acquaintances? Probably so.
Maybe I just have to see it as a task. These people are my classmates, whether I like it or not. And if I make it to Oxford, I will have to deal with some of them and many other sons and daughters from rich families.
I take a deep breath, clench my hands into fists and push myself off the wall with new courage. I’m going to freshen up, and then I’ll go back to the salon, finish my Coke, and dance with James. What is supposed to happen in a big way? People would be talking about me now anyway, then I can at least have a little fun.
With this decision, I go to the door, which is a few meters away on the left side of the hallway, and open it, hoping to find the bathroom behind it. The room is pitch dark except for the light that shines in from the hallway. My eyes need a moment to get used to it, but then I can make out the outline of a large antique secretary, a sitting area with upholstered chairs and… lots of bookshelves.
This is definitely not the bathroom – this is a library! I hesitate for just a tiny moment, then I take a curious step inside and look around. There are more books on the first shelf alone than we have in our entire house. A smile spreads across my face, and I venture one step further… and then I hear it.
Heavy breathing. And muffled sighs.
Turn around and go, a shrill voice calls in my head, but by then it’s already too late. My gaze falls on Alistair, who is leaning against one of the bookshelves further back in the room. He has his head back and is moaning loudly at this second.
A soft smacking sounds. ‘If you keep being so loud, I’ll stop.’
I freeze. This voice sounds familiar to me. It is quiet and deep, a bit smoky.
‘Keep going,’ says Alistair, dropping his head forward.
The guy who knelt in front of him stands up. ‘Only if you kindly ask for it.’
Alistair pulls him down by the hair to kiss him. The guy supports himself with both hands on the shelf next to Alistair’s head and returns the kiss. That’s when I realize who he is.
Keshav.
I take a sharp breath as Keshav’s mouth travels down Alistair’s face to his neck.
At that second, Alistair spots me at the door.
‘Kesh, stop,’ he whispers in panic and jerkily pushes his friend away from him.
I turn on my heel and flee from the library back into the hallway. In panic, I look around to both sides and decide to run back to the salon. I push past dancing people, their faces blurring before my eyes, and search the room for James.
I discover him with his sister, Cyril and Wren near the pool. They talk about something, Wren gesticulates wildly in the air.
I need a moment to collect myself.
Why the hell do I have to keep catching people making out who clearly don’t want an audience? Since when have I been collecting strangers’ secrets? That’s not normal.
It takes me an incredible amount of effort to calm down and calm down at least somewhat. I decide that I have to take back my decision from just now. I can’t have fun here, and I’ll never get used to these people.
I want to go to James and ask him to take me home, but he is so close to the pool that I hesitate for a moment. The sight of the water makes my stomach feel queasy. Finally, I gather all my courage and carefully enter the conservatory. A little way away from the group, I stop at the wall. Wren is the first to discover me. ‘There she is.’
I nod curtly at him and almost breathe a sigh of relief when James comes to me the two steps that separate us. I never thought he would be the person I feel most comfortable with at a party, but today it is. He’s become my fixture, and I have to stop myself from reaching for his hand.
‘All right?’ asks James. He has a new glass in his hand, this time again with brown contents. In the meantime, a slight blush can be seen on his cheeks.
‘I’d like to go home soon,’ I whisper, still out of breath.
James frowns, but nods immediately. Apparently, you can see that I’m on the verge of going crazy. He drinks his glass empty before placing it on the nearest table. ‘Sure.’
‘Oh, come on. Since when do you leave my parties before four o’clock in the morning?’ asks Cyril offended.
‘Since I have someone to bring home,’ James replies, looking blankly at his friend. There it is again, the insurmountable arrogant wall.
‘Come on, Ruby. Don’t be a killjoy. Let’s leave our friend,’ Wren says, crouching down to splash water up from the pool with his hand. A few drops hit my neck, and it feels like all the air is being squeezed out of my lungs.
‘Don’t do that,’ I hiss, barely recognizing my voice because it sounds so shrill.
‘Are you made of sugar or what?’ Cyril asks laughing. He is no longer wearing a shirt and is wearing black swimming trunks. His hair is still damp from swimming. He is one step closer. I back away and cling to James’ arm. I don’t care what the others think.
‘Come on, Cy. Leave them alone,’ says James, but now even his authoritarian tone doesn’t help. Cyril grins at me like a predator. The next moment he makes a leap towards me, grabs my bag and passes it on to a grinning Lydia.
‘Cyril, I’m warning you…’, I manage breathlessly – but it’s too late. He pulls me into a hug that has nothing loving about it and drags me into the pool with him. I’m still screaming as I hit the water with full force, kicking my arms and legs in panic.
Then we go down, and my heart skips a second. Suddenly I’m no longer in the Vegas house, but in a murky yellow-green lake. I’m no longer seventeen, but eight years old. And I can no longer swim, but am helplessly at the mercy of the bitterly cold water.
I can’t breathe.
The algae pull me into the depths, and I can’t move. My arms don’t work, my legs are also out of action. I have no control over my body.
The pressure on my chest is growing rapidly. And then I have no choice but to breathe in the water.
