Sophie
me into his office on Wednesday morning, I know what he’s going to say before I even walk into the room. Even though I was prepared for Evan’s retaliation, it never occurred to me he would actually grass me up to the school.
But of course, it should have occurred to me.
This isn’t my first time being betrayed by him.
Now, sitting across Mr Shawcross in the frosty morning light, I know exactly what he’s done. There is no surprise, just a sort of numb, grim resignation. To my surprise, Mr Shawcross doesn’t express any anger or annoyance.
Instead, with a sort of awkward kindness, he tells me he understands my financial concerns, that trying to find a job is perfectly understandable. I listen to him without a word, nobbing mutely as he explains to me that Spearcrest is an establishment that champions academic excellence, that this is a school rule which doesn’t allow exceptions and that the school is reluctant to set a precedent for students seeking employment.
He tells me the school, and him personally, will do their very best to help me apply for any financial aid available. He adds that with my pristine record and impressive grades, I should be eligible for all sorts of scholarships and that Spearcrest will support me all the way.
Finally, he takes a deep sigh and flounders for a second.
“Out of respect for both yourself and your parents, I thought it best if we leave the matter here and keep it between us. I’ve made no official record, Sophie. I implicitly trust you will do the right thing. Now, whether you wish to discuss the matter with your parents is at your discretion, but know that I will not be raising the issue with them.”
I nod. There’s a lump in my throat so big I can hardly breathe, but I have to speak at some point. I do so with some difficulty, my voice strangled.
“Thank you, Mr Shawcross.”
“Don’t mention it, Sophie. We all want what’s best for you. I’ve also decided that for the sake of fairness, no students will be allowed away from campus, so your mentoring programme will continue here in Spearcrest. I’ll inform Mr Knight’s parents myself.”
I nod. Mr Shawcross gives me a pained smile. Somehow, his pity is worse than anything I could have expected. “I know how much you worry about things, Sophie, and trust me, I understand. But you’re a bright young woman, hard-working and principled, and things will work out. I genuinely believe they will.”
I swallow hard. To my complete mortification, enormous tears pool in my eyes, blurring my vision. Mr Shawcross clears his throat. “You’re dismissed, Sophie.”
My voice comes out in one breath as I jump to my feet and rush to the door. “Thank you, Mr Shawcross.”
Repressed sobs fill my chest like a balloon, threatening to burst. I run to the nearest girls’ bathroom and slam the door shut behind me. Then, finally alone, I explode into tears, sinking back against the door and burying my face in my arms to stifle the sobs that come wailing out.
I cry harder than I have in a long time. Big sobs shake me as I pull out long ribbons of paper towels to wipe away the stream of tears and snot. I cry out of sadness, fear, embarrassment, anger, frustration, relief, and from the nightmarish, haunting humiliation of my entire conversation with Mr Shawcross.
I must have seemed so poor to him, scrambling around working some stupid job to make myself a little bit of money so I’m not just living on student loans at university. His pity for me was clear, and, more painful still, his obvious sympathy for my parents.
No matter how much I appreciate that he chose not to tell them what I’ve done, they would have died from the shame of it, and he was just sparing them from that shame.
The shame of my actions.
The shame of me.
In a way, this was bound to happen. Someone at some point would have seen me at the café. If anything, it’s a miracle I got away with it for so long. In a way, I’m almost relieved: no more secrets, no more sneaking around. I’ll have more time for my schoolwork, which is getting overwhelming, and all the things I’ve been neglecting, like my running and my neglected extracurriculars.
By the time my sobs finally ebb away and my tears stop flowing, I’m a lot calmer. The sadness and humiliation and shock fade away, leaving only anger in their wake.
No, not anger.
Fury.
A cold, hard fury, that turns my insides to ice and hardens my heart until it’s a rock in my chest.
I stand up and face the mirror. My eyes, nose and cheeks are scarlet, the skin puffy and shiny. I daub cold water onto my face, cooling away the redness. I smooth back my hair, fix my uniform and check my watch. It’s morning break, and I know exactly where to find Evan at this time of day.
The sixth form rec room is next to the dining hall; a long room full of low, cosy sofas, a TV set and some games. It’s meant to be a place for sixth formers to relax and socialise in their free time, but it’s long been claimed by the Young Kings, who hold court there and receive the tributes of their sycophants.
The sound of music and laughter fills the room when I stride into it, but my attention is focused, my icy anger urging me on.
I spot Evan straight away.
It’s not hard, because as usual he’s the centre of attention, and as usual, it’s by doing something stupid.
He’s in the middle of the circle of armchairs and couches, with two chairs on either side of him. He’s using the chairs to prop his hands on and hopping into some sort of elevated handstand, and then trying to do push-ups.
His top drops down to reveal his unnecessarily hard abs. Of course, he’s not even wearing the proper school uniform. Instead, he’s wearing a soft, sky-blue sweatshirt on top of his school shirt.
The Christmas present I got him.
As I approach the centre of the room, I hope that he somehow slips and falls on his face, but he doesn’t. Instead, he lands gracefully on his feet and receives his applause and cheers with a bow and a flourish. When he stands back up, his eyes catch mine.
He grins.
“Oh, if it isn’t Prefect Sutton. What brings you here today?”
My anger flares to life, I’m so irate my hands are shaking. “You know exactly what brings me here today.”
“I’m assuming you’ve had a change of heart about the tutoring,” he says, tilting his head with a smirk.
“I could tutor you every day of your life and you would still be the most stupid person in the room wherever you go,” I spit out.
I’m just being hurtful out of anger, but I’m desperate to wipe the smirk off his smug face. The room seems to have disappeared around us, everything replaced by a cold white fog of anger, and in the middle of the fog is Evan, crystal-clear, with his unbearable smile.
A smile which widens slowly as he speaks with soft, quiet confidence. “You’re still going to do it, though, since you don’t have a choice anymore.”
Even though I already knew it was him who reported me, his subtle confirmation makes obvious his complete lack of regret. He betrayed my trust easily, shamelessly—the same way he did the first time.
I’m the complete idiot for falling for the same trick twice.
“You’re such a fucking coward.” My voice is so low it’s almost a whisper.
Finally, his smile falters, a crack in his facade of nonchalant arrogance. He steps forward, right up to me, almost intimidating, and hisses, “I’m the coward?”
Heat floods my cheeks and I’m stopped in my tracks. He’s too close, the heat of him and the cold of my anger meeting, misting, fogging up my mind. “I—I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“For someone who values honesty so highly, you sure do love lying to yourself.”
“I’d rather lie to myself than to everybody I meet,’ I snap.
He snickers, a cold, derisive sound. “The reason you see liars everywhere, Sutton, is because you wouldn’t know the fucking truth if it hit you in the face.”
The conversation is not at all going the way I wanted. Evan is making me defend myself when he’s the one who’s wronged me—and I’m letting him.
“The truth,” I say between clenched teeth, “is that I trusted you with one single thing, and you still managed to fuck me over.”
He shrugs. “You left me no choice. You’re the one who broke school rules, not me.”
“You knew I needed that job!” I cry out in an explosion of anger and frustration.
“So what?” he sneers. “It’s not my fault you’re poor, is it?”
He throws his insult at my face like a slap—it hits me like a slap. The moment is suspended in time.
Nothing seems to exist but Evan and me and the blows we’re trading.
I shake my head and my voice comes out strangled with a mixture of shock and disgust. “You really are one worthless, despicable piece of shit. You make me sick to my stomach.”
If my words hurt Evan, he doesn’t show it. But his retaliation is swift and sharp. “Clearly not sick enough to stop you from fucking me, though.”
Surprised gasps and sputtered laughter yank me back to reality. We’re in the middle of the rec room, and everyone is staring. All the Young Kings are there: Luca, with some girl draped to his side, Zachary Blackwood with a book on his lap and his eyebrow tilted in surprise, Iakov and Séverin standing in the doorway with their mouths fallen open.
Not just the Young Kings, but their retinues: the richest and most beautiful Spearcrest have to offer. Giselle, Camille, Seraphina Rosenthal. Girls who have been mocking me my entire time here—girls I always maintained some sort of moral victory over. Now, they are all staring at me with mingled shock and amusement and satisfaction.
Because now, they all know I’m no better than anybody else in Speacrest: another notch on a Young King’s bedpost.
Their eyes pierce me from every angle. I feel so exposed and vulnerable and humiliated I might as well be naked. No words come to my mouth, no smart, sarcastic reply to help me hold on to a final shred of dignity. To my complete and utter despair, tears well up in my eyes before I can stop them. They drop from my eyelashes, rolling down my cheeks.
When I arrived in Spearcrest, I promised myself one thing. To never let them see me cry. It was a promise I never broke. The one thing I could always pride myself on no matter what.
And now, it’s just another thing that’s been taken from me.
Without another word, without even one last glance at Evan, I spin around and walk away to the sound of laughter.
