Part 3 – Spring
Sophie
comes the following morning. I’m barely recovered from everything that happened at the party and after it, I’ve not even discussed any of it with the girls yet. Then the letter comes. It fills me with such a sickening mixture of elation and anxiety I don’t eat for the rest of the day.
That evening, Audrey, Araminta and I meet for a much-needed debrief in Araminta’s room.
Every flat surface is covered with bottles of perfume, face mists, skincare products and boxes full of make-up. Her bed is strewn with clothes and books so we settle on the cream carpet flooring, sharing Araminta’s impressive collection of decorative cushions.
“Right,” Araminta says, clapping her hands together. She’s in tiny silk pyjamas and looking radiant. “I know we all want to discuss what happened at the party, but—” She pulls an envelope out from behind her. “Look what I got today!”
Audrey covers her mouth with her hands. “No!”
“Yes!” Araminta hands her the letter with a flourish. “I’m studying Neuroscience at Harvard, baby!”
Audrey lets out a giddy cry. I crawl over to Araminta to wrap my arms around her. Audrey joins in, wrapping herself around us.
“You did it! You actually did it!” Audrey squeals.
“I did it!”Araminta lets out a muffled giggle. “I fucking did it!”
They finally let go and we all stand apart, staring at Araminta, grinning like idiots. Audrey takes the letter and looks at it, shaking her head slowly. “Fuck. It’s really starting to feel real, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” Araminta sits back down on the bed. “Spearcrest is almost over. It’s actually sinking in now.”
“Things are going to be so different,” Audrey says softly.
“We’ll still see each other all the time,” I reassure her, hoping it’ll be true.
Audrey nods. “I hope so.”
“Well, hopefully I get to see Sophie a lot,” Araminta says, widening her eyes at me. “Maybe you’ll hear from Harvard next week now they’re sending out admission letters?”
I bite my lip, trying to suppress a smile. “I got my letter today too.”
Araminta’s mouth drops open.
“What?” Audrey says, sitting up. “You did? And?”
“And Araminta and I will probably get to see each other a lot, yes.”
“Get the fuck out of here!” Araminta screeches, and launches herself at me. “You got accepted?”
I barely get to nod before it’s my turn to be swallowed into a multi-layered embrace by the girls.
“Aw,” Audrey whispers against my hair. “I’m so jealous of you two! I want to go to Harvard too, for fuck’s sake.”
After the news of our acceptance letters settle, our conversation turns back to the party. Turns out Evan’s fight with Luca is just one of a few that went down. A lot seems to have happened after I left. By the sounds of it, people were either fighting or hooking up or both.
“Which one were you doing, Minty?” I ask, raising an eyebrow at her.
“Hooking up, of course. With a prefect, no less!”
“A prefect?” I ask. “Check you out! Which one?”
“Percy Bainbridge.”
“Percy Bainbridge?” Audrey says. “He’s not your usual type.”
“No, but…” Araminta smirks. “I came…” She pauses, and then lifts two fingers. “Twice!”
“Well, at least one of us got some action,” Audrey says with a pout.
Before I can say anything, Araminta shakes her head. “No. Sophie got some action too, I reckon.”
“What?” I blink at her. “How could you possibly know this?”
“You have that good dick glow going on,” Araminta says with a wave of her hand.
“Did you and Evan sort your shit out, then?” Audrey asks, raising her eyebrows at me.
“Why would you think it was him?”
She rolls her eyes. “Who else is it going to be? You two are obsessed with each other.”
“I wouldn’t say obsessed,” I say.
“I don’t know, he’s definitely a bit obsessed,” Araminta says.
I nod slowly, and then say, “He told me he likes me.”
“He did?” Audrey says with some surprise. “That’s very forthright of him. Did he ask you out?”
“He said he wants to be my stupid American boyfriend.”
“Stupid is right,” Araminta smirks.
“Well, he’s always wanted you, let’s be honest.” Audrey shakes her head. “At least he’s realised now—bit fucking late. So what did you say?”
“Nothing.”
“Do you want to go out with him? You two have always been so weird about each other. It has to be endgame, no?”
“We’ve not been weird, we…” I falter to a stop. How do I even begin to explain us? I sigh. “Look, I don’t know. I don’t even think I could explain how I feel. But it’s the least of my problems right now.” I say. It’s only half a lie. “I don’t have time to worry about anything apart from my exams now. And how to tell my parents about Harvard.”
“Just tell them,” Audrey says, her features softening. “They’ll be proud of you, I know it.”
I sigh. “They had their hearts set on Oxbridge.”
“But you didn’t.”
I nod slowly. “I guess I’m just…” I swallow. “I guess I’m a little scared.”
Audrey walks over to me and takes my hands in hers. “You don’t have to be scared, Sophie. Your whole time at Spearcrest, you’ve never let anyone change you, or scare you out of being the person you’re meant to be. Your parents want what’s best for you, even if their way of showing it can be misguided. And even if they don’t like it, then so what? You have nothing to be afraid of. You’re in charge of your own life.”
Audrey’s words stay with me for a long time after that.
Fear has kept me paralysed for longer than I can remember: fear of getting in trouble, of disappointing my parents, of not living up to their expectations. Fear has haunted me every moment since I arrived at Spearcrest: fear of not fitting in, fear of mockery, fear of not being good enough.
Even now that I’ve secured an offer from Harvard, fear is still creeping at my heels like a shadow. Fear that this will all go wrong somehow, that everything will come crashing down on me.
But Audrey is right after all—right as always. There’s nothing to be afraid of. There’s nothing wrong with the truth, with being proud of my achievements and knowing what I want for my future.
I wait until the last day of the half-term to make the call. I’m going to be stuck at school over the holidays, and I don’t want that dark cloud hanging over me.
So I do something that always makes my heart drop and my stomach clench: I dial my mum’s number.
I don’t even get time to brace myself because she picks up almost straight away.
“Sophie! Everything okay?”
“Yes, Mum. I’m just calling to update you on my university applications.”
“Oh?”
“I got my first acceptance letter.”
“Yes, I checked your application portal and saw. Congratulations, my love. Still, there’s plenty of time for other offers to come in. Oxbridge typically send out their admissions letters in early March.”
I hesitate. I should have known she’d snoop. I should have known she wouldn’t make this easy. Well, time to rip the plaster off.
“Thanks, Mum. But I’ll… I’ll be going Harvard.”
There’s a long silence, during which I’m sure Mum is mouthing my revelation to Dad while he frowns at her questioningly.
“I know Harvard is world-class, lovely,” she says finally with the careful tact of a politician. “But America is expensive—so expensive. And all the connections you made at Spearcrest…”
My heart is hammering and my palms are sweaty as I grip my phone. “I know, Mum, but some Spearcrest kids have also applied there, and think about all the connections I’ll make at Harvard too.”
“I know, love, but how will we possibly afford it?”
The lump in my throat makes it hard to speak, but I force my voice out. “Mum, you don’t need to worry about it. I’m old enough now, it’s my responsibility to worry about that. Even if I don’t get any of the scholarships I applied for, I’ll get a job over the summer. I’ll stay on top of everything.”
The silence that follows is so long I check my phone to make sure she hasn’t hung up on me. But no, she’s still there, quiet.
Then, in a small voice, she says, “It’s just… think about everything we’ve worked for.”
“Mum.” My heart is beating so fast my pulse slams in my throat. “I know how important you think Spearcrest is. But you wanted me to come here, and I came here. You wanted me to make friends here, and I did. You wanted me to work hard and make the most of my opportunities here—and I did just that. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life imitating Spearcrest kids, trying to be one of them. I don’t want to be one of them—I want to be me. I want to pursue law, and Harvard has one of the best law schools in the world. I…” I swallow back the lump of emotion in my throat. “I appreciate everything you and Dad have ever done for me. I’ll never not be grateful for that. But it’s time for me to make my own choices now, and this is what I’ve chosen.”
Another long silence follows, but for the first time, it’s not filled with lung-crushing anxiety. For the first time in a long time, the weight on my chest is lifted.
I breathe, long and deep, and wait.
“Well, your father and I are proud of you,” Mum says. It’s a non-committal response. If she’s disappointed or angry, she’s trying to hide it. “We’ll support you no matter what. We’ve only ever wanted the best for you.”
“I know, Mum.”
She sighs. “Well, it’s late anyway. You should go to sleep, love.”
She doesn’t want to continue the conversation, which I suppose is fair. “Sure, okay, Mum.”
“Goodnight, Sophie.”
“Night, Mum.”
She hangs up, and I slump down onto my desk, cheek pressed against a pile of Maths workbooks, staring into the blinding white orb of my lamp lightbulb.
I’ve done it. I can’t believe I’ve done it. I’m going to Harvard. I can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel.
A knock at the door startles me.
I find a Year 12 girl on the other side, wearing a rowing team t-shirt and holding an enormous chocolate bar. She raises an eyebrow.
“Is Sophie here?”
I frown. “Er, I’m Sophie.”
“Right. There’s a boy outside who wants to talk to you.”
“Boys aren’t allowed in the girls’ building,” I remind her severely.
She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I told him I’d pass on the message. You go get rid of him. Aren’t you a prefect?”
“I’ll go sort it out,” I sigh.
Since I’m in a t-shirt, shorts and socks, I pull on a baggy jumper and leave my room, half excited, half nervous. In the common room, a couple of Year 12 girls are peering around the curtains, faces pressed to the window as they stare at the boy outside, confirming what I already know about who’s waiting there.
I open the door with my most formal expression. “Hi, Evan, it’s not allowed for you to be here, so—”
I stop in my tracks
With everything that’s happened between us, you’d think I’d be desensitised to his looks, but I guess it’s the kind of thing you can’t ever get used to.
His hair is slightly wet, brushed back from his forehead, leaving his face and its impeccable bone structure fully exposed for maximum impact. He’s wearing black running shorts, white trainers and a baggy grey sweatshirt, his training bag slung over one shoulder.
Behind him, the sun has almost finished its decline across the sky, leaving it the pale shade of violets, and the last sun rays catch the gold of Evan’s hair, making it golder still.
“I wouldn’t have had to risk your pristine reputation by coming if you ever took calls,” he says, waving his phone in my face.
I raise my hands in concession. “Okay, I’m sorry, I was already on a call.”
We stare at each other. A slow breeze rustles the ivy leaves that cover part of the building. Evan’s gaze is gentle on me, a slight smile playing on his lips. Our last moments together, his words, mine, the pleasure we shared, hangs between us like an invisible, shimmering veil.
I clear my throat. “Well, what did you want anyway?”
“Are you going home for the holiday?”
I shake my head. “No, it’s exam season. My parents will be working all week, so I’ll be staying here.”
He nods and hesitates. He brushes back his wet hair, bites his lips. “I, uh, was wondering if you want to come and stay with me for the holiday?”
I narrow my eyes, frankly shocked he has the audacity to make such a bold and reckless offer, but he raises his hands and hastens to add, “It wouldn’t be just the two of us like… I mean, my family is going to be here, and my mum actually went to Harvard, so I thought you might want to chat, or…”
He trails off and stands there, ruffling his hair awkwardly. I watch him with what I hope is ice-cool calm, but in reality, my mind is scrambling around for all the reasons I should say no and finding none. We’ve just finished a round of mock exams, I don’t have a job to go to, I’ll be alone in Spearcrest over the holidays which is always really depressing, my parents would encourage this idea so I can’t rely on them saying no, and the thought of meeting Evan’s Harvard graduate mum is both terrifying and exhilarating all at once.
Not to mention the thought of staying with Evan.
Especially after everything that happened.
Especially now I no longer know where we stand.
Hating him really was much easier than whatever this is.
“I’ll have to ask my parents,” I say eventually.
He nods. “Yeah, of course. I told my parents I’d invite you and they are very excited to meet you. They’re impressed that you’re a prefect and asked me how on earth I got you to hang out with me.” He stops and bites his lip in a gesture of trepidation. “Well, I didn’t tell them about… everything, but—but, anyway. So they’re very excited to meet you, and my sister is also staying, I think you two might get on.”
He stops, staring at me. His eyes are wide and too blue and very earnest. I can tell he’s trying to make amends, in his own outrageously bumbling, heavy-handed, American way, and for some reason it makes me smile.
“I’d love to come, alright? This place is depressing this time of year. I just need to let my parents know.”
His face breaks into a broad grin. “Alright—great. Let me know. I’m leaving tomorrow, I’ll text you all the details. Tell your parents I’ll give them the biggest hug if they say yes. Alright, I’m off before the Spearcrest police come to arrest me for indecent behaviour. See ya tomorrow, hopefully.”
He leans suddenly forward to press a kiss against my cheek, and then he turns around and disappears into the soft purple and gold of dusk.
