All These Things I've Done (Birthright #1)(26)

Yes, I had heard all this before. I reminded myself it was the combined effect of drugs and illness, not my grandmother.

‘I hope you never have to face a disappointment like that, girl,’ she continued. ‘It’s . . . It’s . . .’ A tear fell on to her cheek.

‘Oh no, Nana, please don’t cry.’ I could see Imogen’s novel on the windowsill. ‘Would you like me to read to you?’

‘No!’ she yelled. ‘I can read myself! Stupid whore, what makes you think I can’t read myself?’ She tore her hand away from mine and, though I don’t think it was intentional, she ended up slapping my cheek with the back of her hand. For a moment, I couldn’t move. It’s not that the pain was much of anything, but still . . . She had never struck me before. No one in my family had. I had been in fights at school, but this was so much worse.

‘Get out of my room! Do you hear me? I don’t want you in my room! Leave now! Leave!’

So I turned off the light and I left. ‘Goodnight, Nana,’ I whispered. ‘I love you.’

V I I. i am accused; make matters worse

BY MONDAY MORNING, I was definitely ready to go back to Holy Trinity. Compared to my home life, school was a vacation.

Scarlet had saved a place for me at lunch. Win was there, too – I guess we were the only people he knew. ‘Bet you’re glad to be out of that hairnet!’ Scarlet called.

‘Nah,’ I said. ‘I was kind of getting used to it. Lunch duty, too. I was thinking I should go find Arsley and pour another bowl of . . . What’s on the menu today anyway?’ I looked at Win’s lunch tray. Lunch was a whitish blob with a chunky brownish sauce and a side of purplish blob.

‘Thanksgiving in September,’ Win reported. ‘Not particularly good for pouring over boyfriends’ heads.’ He took a forkful of whitish blob. ‘Too starchy. It’d stick to the tray and then he’d be able to dodge.’

‘Yeah, you’re probably right. I should shoot some over, slingshot-style, instead.’ I looked across the cafeteria to where Gable usually sat. He wasn’t there. ‘Oh, well. Arsley isn’t here anyway.’

‘He wasn’t in homeroom either,’ Scarlet reported. ‘Maybe he’s sick?’

‘Skipping more like,’ I said. ‘I saw him last night and he was fine.’

‘Did you?’ Scarlet asked.

‘It wasn’t like that. He wanted—’ I stopped myself. With Win’s father being the unofficial top cop, I really wasn’t sure it was that great an idea to mention the family business.

‘What did he want?’ Scarlet asked. Win and Scarlet were both waiting for me to finish.

‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘I was thinking about something that happened with Nana. To talk. All he wanted was to talk.’

‘Talk! That’s not like Gable. What did he want to talk about?’ Scarlet asked.

‘Scarlet.’ I raised an eyebrow. ‘About closure. And stuff. I’ll tell you later. Win doesn’t want to hear any of this.’

Win shrugged. ‘I don’t mind.’

‘Well, I don’t want to talk about it,’ I said, standing up from the table. ‘Besides, I should claim my Thanksgiving blobs before they get cold.’

I didn’t see Scarlet (alone) again until fencing the next morning.

‘So what did you talk about with Gable?’ she whispered as we were stretching.

‘Nothing,’ I whispered back. ‘He wanted chocolate. I couldn’t say it in front of Win.’

‘Gable is such a tool belt!’ Scarlet yelled. ‘I honestly can’t believe him sometimes!’

‘Ms Barber,’ said Mr Jarre. ‘Let’s keep it down during stretching, shall we?’

‘Sorry, Mr Jarre,’ Scarlet said. ‘Seriously,’ she whispered to me. ‘He is just loathsome. By the way, he wasn’t in homeroom again.’

‘Why?’ I asked.

‘Beats me,’ she said. ‘Probably off drowning kittens or something.’ Scarlet giggled. ‘Why are the cute ones always such sociopaths?’

‘Win doesn’t seem like too much of a sociopath,’ I replied without thinking.

‘Oh, really? So, you think he’s cute, do you? At least you’re admitting it now.’

I shook my head. Scarlet was incorrigible.

‘Admitting it is the first step, Annie.’

I was in FS II on Wednesday morning when I heard the news that Gable Arsley was in the hospital.

Chai Pinter, who always seemed to know everyone’s business, made a special trip to my lab table to tell me. ‘Did you hear about Gable?’ she asked. I shook my head, and of course she was delighted to tell me. ‘Well, apparently, he fell ill on Monday morning, but his parents didn’t think it was anything serious. They just told him to stay home. And then he was, like, throwing up all day Tuesday, but they still thought it was stomach flu or something. When it didn’t stop by Tuesday night, they finally took him to the hospital. And he’s still there! Ryan Jenkins even heard he had surgery!’ Chai looked over the moon at the prospect of one of our peers having possibly had surgery. ‘But I don’t know if that’s true. You know how people make stuff up.’

I did.

‘I figured you might know more than me about Gable’s condition, since you guys went out for such a long time. But I guess not,’ Chai said cheerfully.