Текст книги "Fall From India Place"

Автор книги: Samantha Young

Соавторы: Samantha Young
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Marco grimaced comically. “Like I read.”

“You’ve at least read something, right?”

He laughed and deflected the question. “What’s your favorite book?”

“To Kill a Mockingbird.”

Something I didn’t understand glittered in the back of his eyes. “Nice choice.”

“Aha, you’ve read it!”

Marco smiled and shrugged.

“I don’t know if shrugging constitutes an answer where you come from, Chicago Boy, but here it doesn’t qualify.”

“Them be a whole lot of big words, smart girl. Ma small brain ain’t be knowing what yer talkin’ about.”

I burst out into surprised laughter. Marco was often sarcastic and he enjoyed the ironic, but this side of him, this joking side of him, was rare to see. “Stop avoiding the question.”

I waited for him to stop grinning. As the smile slipped from his face, there was something new and intense in his expression. Our eyes held and the air thickened between us. “To Kill a Mockingbird,” he told me softly.

His confession seared me to my very soul. It might not seem like something to anyone else that we shared the same favorite book but right then, in the growing dark, it felt like everything.

“If you could go on the perfect date, where would it be?” What I really wanted to ask was who it would be with.

I knew the question would cause him some unease, but I think that’s what I was pushing for. Pushing for answers about what was between us.

His brows drew together as he looked down at me. “I told you I don’t date,” he replied quietly.

The answer was unsurprising, but still I felt a pang of disappointment.

“You?” Marco did surprise me by asking.

I gave him a small smile. Perfect date. With him. Where? “It sounds really cheesy, but I remember reading this teen romance Ellie gave me and it was about this girl who meets a real-life prince and it’s completely fantastical and utterly stupid really.” I laughed nervously. “There’s so many obstacles between them, but there’s this scene where he takes her to this tiny cottage on his land, away from everything and everyone. They sit in front of a roaring fire, drinking and eating, sometimes talking, sometimes not. It was like there was no one else in the world but them and I don’t know…” I trailed off, feeling my cheeks flush with embarrassment.

The heavy silence fell between us again.

“Why did you really ask me to meet you tonight, Marco?” I whispered, breaking it.

For once he didn’t avoid the question. “Because,” he whispered back, “when I’m with you it feels like everything’s going to be okay. I can’t explain it.”

My pulse throbbed at his overwhelming confession and somehow my voice came out steady and soft. “You don’t have to.”

“That film was so rubbish,” Sadie complained as we walked out of the theater and into the lobby of the cinema. “Such a boy movie.”

“You were the one that voted with the guys on what film to go see,” I reminded her.

“Yeah, because I want them to like me,” she said in a “duh” voice, as though it should be obvious to me to change who I was in order to suit a boy. Ugh. Please.

If this was what being popular was all about, you could stick it.

Fifth year at high school was turning out a lot different than my last few years. My old friends had become scarce as I’d opened up and grown more confident, and my new friends were outgoing – they participated in a lot of extracurricular activities at school, but mostly they were utterly, completely, and totally boy crazy.

I was only crazy for one boy, but he’d graduated.

“Eh, Hannah?” Kieran, one of the guys in our group, walked over to me, looking a little nervous. “Can I talk to you?” He nodded toward a corner where we’d have a little privacy.

Sadie grinned mischievously. My stomach dropped a little when I realized where this was going.

Reluctantly, I followed Kieran over to the corner.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets, looked back at our friends, and then turned to me with a shaky smile. “So… I was, eh… I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me sometime?”

Crap. I hated this. I hated rejecting anybody. “Oh, Kieran, I’m really flattered.” I smiled with a shrug. “But I think we should just be friends.”

He frowned. “That’s it?”

I nodded, wondering what else I was supposed to say.

He made this snorting, huffy sound and turned on his heel, striding angrily back to the guys. Whatever he said had them looking over at me in puzzlement.

I gritted my teeth, two seconds from deciding to walk away from every single one of them, when Sadie came hurrying over. She looked pissed off.

“What is your problem?” she asked, arms crossed over her chest. “Three of the guys have asked you out in the last two months, Hannah, and you’ve said no to every single one of them. They think you’re a lesbian.”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course they do. It’s easier to believe that than the fact that I don’t fancy any of them.”

“Kieran is hot.” Sadie pouted. “Do you think you’re too good for him?”

Why were we friends again? “No. I just… I think I like older boys.” It was mostly true and I was hoping it would get her off my back.

Thankfully, this was the right move. It was something Sadie could understand. Her expression cleared and she was just about to open her mouth to say something when a tall, familiar figure caught my attention.

My heart immediately started pounding.

Standing by the window, near the escalators, was Marco. My eyes followed the broad planes of his shoulders, then moved upward to his profile. My heart raced harder, a sharp ache piercing my chest as I realized he had a girl pinned against the railing near the window. The pain intensified as he bent his head to kiss the girl.

Really, really kiss her.

I think my heart shattered into a million pieces.

I looked at the floor, attempting to unsee things while I tried to catch my breath.

Marco and I had kept in touch since he’d graduated and moved on to Edinburgh College. He was working part-time at his apprenticeship while he did the carpentry and joinery course. I knew this because we still hung out. We talked on Facebook, texted each other, and every now and then he’d call me and I’d go meet him somewhere, like I’d done that night at Douglas Gardens. Nothing romantic ever happened, and he never said anything as sweet to me again as he had that night, but I had been beginning to hope the sexual tension I felt between us was mutual. I was sixteen now. Guys told me I was pretty and I knew I looked older than a lot of the girls my age because of my height and my figure. I was hoping Marco would see me differently. But nothing had changed.

I wasn’t stupid. I knew there were other girls, because some of them had bragged at school about hooking up with him.

It was different seeing it with my very own eyes, though.

Sadie snapped her fingers in front of my nose. “Did you not hear me?”

I blinked, trying to breathe through the pain of unrequited torturous idiotic love. “What?” I asked sharply.

“I said I heard a rumor that Scott Wilder fancies you. He’s older.”

“Scott Wilder? The sixth-year?”

Sadie nodded excitedly. “He told his friend Jamie and Jamie is Amanda Eaton’s big brother. Jamie told Amanda, who told Vicky, and Vicky told me. Scott is so hot, Hannah. You’d be so lucky!”

And so it was with the burn of disappointment in my gut that I found myself saying, “Yeah. He is.”

Sadie’s eyes widened. “Oh, my God! I’m totally telling Vicky to tell Amanda.”

Disappointment turned to anger, and I lifted my gaze and looked over at Marco as he put his arm around his date and walked her onto the escalator. “Don’t bother,” I told her. “I’ll friend Scott on Facebook. We’ll go from there.”

I swore Mum and Dad to secrecy when I told them I was going out on a date. My family – as in Braden and Adam – could get really overprotective and I didn’t know how they would react to the fact that I was dating. To my surprise, Mum and Dad were okay with it, and despite Dad’s glaring an alarming amount at Scott when he picked me up for our date, they acted cool enough about the whole thing. Well, Mum did.

“You look great.” Scott beamed at me as we walked away from my house.

It didn’t feel right using Scott to get over Marco, but we’d talked a little lately and Scott actually seemed like a really nice guy. And I’d have to be dead to think he wasn’t hot. He was good-looking and he was taller than me. That was always a plus. I’d decided to give tonight a real shot and since he was taking me to D’Alessandro’s for dinner, I also decided to dress up a little. I was wearing a shift dress that came to just above my knees and I’d looped a belt around my waist to give my figure definition. Heels would have worked with the look, but I’d gone with flats so I didn’t end up towering over Scott. It felt a little strange going to Marco’s uncle’s restaurant for my first date, but since he didn’t have a great relationship with his uncle, I knew there was no chance of bumping into him.

“Thanks. You too.” And he did look good. He was wearing a pair of suit trousers, a shirt, and a waistcoat. Very dapper.

He grinned at me and I wished, oh, how I wished, it had made my stomach flip like Marco’s grin always did. “I’ve wanted to ask you out for ages.”

I smiled. “Well, here we are.”

“You’re not like other girls, Hannah. You’re so confident and smart and gorgeous. It’s a little intimidating.”

I made a face. “Believe me, I’m not intimidating.”

Scott didn’t look convinced.

I didn’t want anyone putting me on a pedestal. Ever. “Okay. I snore.” I nodded in earnest. “I can’t lie flat on my back if I’m sleeping in company because of it. And not normal snoring. It’s this weird, breathy kind of snoring that’s almost as annoying as elephant snoring. I know because my sister once recorded a video of me on her phone. I’ve been afraid to sleep in a room with another human being since.”

He threw his head back laughing, just as I’d intended him to do.

“When I was little I called my dad’s great aunt Virginia Aunt Vagina the whole time we were visiting her. My parents were mortified and had no idea how to explain my inappropriate error to me, so I pretty much called her that until I understood the difference.”

By this time Scott was choking on laughter. We reached the restaurant and he held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, I’m no longer intimidated.”

“Good.” I smiled at him as he held the door open for me and we stepped into the warmth of the restaurant.

Scott gave his name to the hostess and she led us through the front dining room and into the back dining room to a cozy table for two.

There was a little awkwardness when we sat down so I resorted to my fallback – teasing. “So, cradle snatcher, how does it feel to be on a date with a sixteen-year-old?”

“It helps that she doesn’t look sixteen. And anyway, a little birdie told me you’re seventeen soon.”

“In a few months.”

“We’ll be seventeen together then. Late birthday,” he explained. “I don’t turn eighteen until my first semester at uni.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’ve applied to all the usual, but we want St. Andrews.”

“We?”

“My parents are really involved in my academic career.”

“That’s good. Sometimes —” I stopped talking, the words deserting me as my eyes clashed with Marco’s.

What the hell?

My gaze drank him in, taking in the stained apron tied around his waist and the tray of dirty dishes in his hands. Marco was a busboy for his uncle? Since when?

I moved my lips, curling them into a smile that quickly disappeared as I processed Marco’s expression. His gaze flicked from me to Scott and back to me again.

His jaw clenched, and his knuckles turned white as his grip on the tray tightened. There was unmasked fury in his eyes.

My mouth fell open in shock as he turned on his heel and marched out of sight.

“Hannah?” Scott asked, drawing my gaze back to him.

“Sorry. I thought I saw…” I smiled weakly. “Never mind. What were we saying?”

I worked my arse off to remain present in the conversation because Scott was nice and charming and down-to-earth. He wasn’t some huge, brooding American who kept throwing me dirty looks anytime he had to come into the dining room.

After the main course, Scott excused himself to go to the restroom and as soon as he was out of earshot, I twisted my head to look at Marco. The restaurant was too busy for me to shout his name, but I waited until he felt my gaze. He looked at me and I waved him over.

He gave me a slight shake of his head and walked out.

I felt that rejection so acutely I lost my breath for a second.

I never saw him again for the rest of the evening and any attempt at not being distracted was lost to me, as I was lost to thoughts of Marco. I didn’t understand what had happened. Was he jealous? And if he was jealous, then why on earth hadn’t he asked me out a long time ago? It wasn’t like I hadn’t made it clear I liked him. Right?

Scott walked me home and I managed some one-word answers. At my door, I gave him a distracted kiss on the cheek and disappeared inside, feeling confused, guilty, and more than a little bit tired of the whole thing.

CHAPTER 5

“Miss?”

“Miss Nichols?”

“Miss!”

I jerked my head up, my unfocused gaze refocusing on the class in front of me. They all stared at me in question.

Shit. I’d completely zoned out. Unfortunately, that had been happening more and more lately. Ever since I’d found that bloody photograph of Marco and me, I kept being assaulted by memories of my time with him. It was beyond distracting and annoying.

I blinked a few times, trying to shake the specter of Marco as I searched my desk and attempted to remember what the hell I was talking about.

Right. Of Mice and Men and symbolism.

Pretending I hadn’t just taken a nap in the Halls of Forgotten Youth, I pushed on like I was perfectly aware of my surroundings and what we were doing. “So?” I sat down on the edge of my desk. “To end our discussion on symbolism in the book, why do you think Steinbeck titled it Of Mice and Men?”

Looking around the room at my third-year class, I saw a lot of brows furrowed in thought. The one brow that was usually furrowed in thought, however, today wasn’t. Tabitha Bell was one of my students who continually answered questions. She was bubbly and clever and I could usually count on her to fill any awkward silence. During the parts of the class when I had been fully present that day, I’d noticed that she was just looking down at the table and I didn’t hear a peep coming from her. I’d decided not to force her to participate. Something was clearly up.

“Come on, guys, think about it?” I urged.

The bell rang.

“Okay,” I said over the sound of their packing up and rising chatter. “Listen,” I called out, drawing their attention back to me. “I want you to come in tomorrow with an answer to my question. Why do you think Steinbeck titled it Of Mice and Men?” I was more than a bit annoyed with myself. We hadn’t been able to discuss it in class because of me, and I knew at least ninety percent of them would Google it and seize on a multitude of right answers they hadn’t come up with themselves.

Watching them hurry from my class to get to lunch, my eyes fell on Tabby. “Tabitha.”

She looked up at me as she was passing, her eyes rounded in surprise.

I gestured to her and she made her way over to my desk, silently waiting as the room emptied.

“Are you okay?” I asked, concerned. “You were awfully quiet in class today. It’s not like you.”

Tears suddenly shimmered in her young eyes. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem fine. If you’re having any issues with the work, I’d like to know so I can help.”

“Class is fine,” she sniffed. “It’s just…” Her lips trembled. “I saw Jack Ryan kissing Natasha Dingwall this morning.”

I stopped myself just in time from curling my lip in annoyance. Jack Ryan was in my fourth-year English class along with Jarrod. Whereas Jarrod was merely cheeky, Jack Ryan was a mouthy, disrespectful, women-hating little shit. “Is Jack your boyfriend?”

Tabby shook her head and I almost sagged in relief. “No… but I thought…” She wiped at the tears that had spilled onto her cheeks and I had to stop myself from rounding the desk to give her a hug.

“Tabby” – I ducked my head to look solemnly into her eyes – “today this feels like the end of the world. Tomorrow? Not so much. You’ll be fine. I promise.”

Looking anything but convinced, Tabby mumbled her thanks and quietly departed the room.

I stared after her, feeling bad but knowing she’d be okay. I knew because I’d been there. It felt like hell in the moment, but I was pretty sure time healed all.

Sometimes when you came across stupid photographs, however, it nicked the scar a little.

“There you are!” Anisha Patel, a fellow English teacher at the school, rushed toward me as I walked into the department staff room. She was grinning, her dark eyes glittering with excitement. “Please tell me you don’t have a date to my wedding because I want to set you up with someone.”

I stared at her in confusion. “I’m invited?”

Nish was lovely. In fact, I got on really well with the English department. They didn’t act superior to me because I was a probationer; they just welcomed me aboard. Still, Nish and I had known each other only a couple of months so I wasn’t expecting an invitation to her wedding. She talked about it every day, just as much as she talked about her gorgeous construction worker fiancé, Andrew, a guy whose boss often worked on projects for Braden and Adam.

Nish looked mortified. “I didn’t invite you? Of course I did. Didn’t I?” She waved it off. “Well, you’re invited to the reception. Of course you are. Here.” She strutted back over to her purse, dug around a bit, and pulled out an envelope. “An invitation.” She held it out to me.

I smiled as I took it. “That’s really nice of you, Nish, but I wasn’t expecting an invite.”

“Hush. Of course you’ll be there. And can I set you up?” She clapped her hands together excitedly. “I know this guy and I’ve told him all about how gorgeous and smart and funny you are, and after the bad luck he’s had in the past he really needs to date someone like you.”

Although flattered… “Thank you, Nish, but I’m not really —”

“When was the last time you went on a date? I never hear you talking about men. Oh.” Her eyes widened and she leaned in to whisper, “Do you like women?”

“No, I’m not a lesbian,” I replied, not annoyed that she would think I was gay but annoyed that my perpetual singledom caused people to assume I was gay, rather than that maybe I was just happy being alone until I found a guy I could stand to be around long enough to commit to. “I’ll bring Cole to the wedding.”

“Ah, so something is going on there with that boy. Knew it!”

I looked over at my colleague Barbara, who seemed amused by the whole thing, and said, “Why is everyone man crazy at the moment? There is more to life.”

Barbara grunted. “Preaching to the converted.”

I sighed and looked back at Nish. “Cole and I are just friends, but I’m bringing him to the wedding. No setups.”

“Speaking of boys” – Eric, the department head, grinned up at me from his sandwich – “apparently you have a number of admirers, Hannah.”

I grimaced. “Are you talking about students?” I shook my head, walking over to the fridge to get my sandwich. “It’s just because I’m close to their age.”

“I think it’s more to do with the fact you wear pencil skirts, high heels, and sexy secretary blouses.” Nish sniggered. “And of course you look like that.”

My colleagues laughed teasingly at my scowl.

“So do you want to know who fancies you?” Eric grinned cheekily.

“No. Definitely not.”

“Jarrod Fisher is in Rutherford’s class. He got into it with another boy who said some inappropriate things about you. Both got punishment exercises. And then there’s my sixth-year. A kid asked me this morning in front of the whole class whether I thought he had a chance with you.”

I groaned into my sandwich, making them laugh, but the truth was it wasn’t the most comfortable feeling in the world to know that some of the minors you were teaching were having inappropriate thoughts when they looked at you. “Can we please stop talking about this?”

“Okay. Back to Cole then,” Nish said. “You’re absolutely sure that it’s just friends between you two? Because that picture you showed me… if I were ten years younger…”

I smiled. “He’s good-looking. But he’s my best friend. It’s not like that between us. Anyway, I’m too busy with this placement for a relationship. No matchmaking, Nish. I mean it.”

I sat in my old bedroom on the new single bed, staring at the boxes in the corner where I’d stuffed the picture of Marco. I felt like it had been haunting me, and the only way to stop it was to put it in the boxes I’d eventually store back at my flat.

Hearing a chorus of laughter downstairs, I smiled. It was Sunday. My home had always been a happy one. I was lucky to have two parents who had such genuine affection and respect for each other. They’d rarely argued. Most of the arguing had been between Dec and me as we got older. I gave a small huff of laughter. I guess that hadn’t changed much.

I smoothed my hands over the comforter of the new bed. Despite the changes this place still felt safe somehow.

A knock on the door surprised me, jolting me out of my reverie. Jo’s head popped around the door, followed by her bump and then the rest of her. She smiled as she looked around, her long strawberry blond hair swinging in its ponytail. “This brings back memories.”

When I was younger and Jo and Cole started coming to Sunday lunches, I’d bonded with Jo. Ellie was a great big sister, but she was very overprotective and a little too idealistic and romantic for me to confide in. Admittedly, I’d inherited that same romantic streak from Mum, but I was a little more reluctant to believe in fairy tales. Jo was more like me. She had her feet firmly planted on the ground, even when her head took a wander into the clouds. Before dinner she and I would sneak off to my room and I’d tell her all the secrets I couldn’t tell my overprotective family.

“Do you remember Marco?” I found myself asking.

Jo stopped and turned to me, her green eyes round with surprise. “How could I forget? Your first big crush.”

It was so much more than that.

I looked away, ignoring that flash of pain.

“Hannah?”

I glanced back at her to find her frowning.

“What made you think of him?”

I shrugged, attempting casual and hopefully not failing. “Mum asked me to throw out some of my old things. I found a photograph of Marco in the boxes. It brought all the old memories back, I guess.”

Looking pensive, Jo strode toward me and lowered herself onto the bed next to me. “That’s not surprising,” she said quietly. “I imagine you have a few regrets where Marco’s concerned. He left Scotland before anything could happen between you.”

I felt a flip of unease in my stomach. I hated keeping things from the people I loved.

“You really changed after he left,” Jo continued softly. “You became serious even before…”

My eyes found hers. “I guess that’s what regret does to a person.”

Jo took my hand. “You’re only twenty-two, Hannah. Plenty of time to find ‘the one.’”

Forcing the pain away, I smiled at her. “I know that.”

The fragments of the past can become restless ghosts, relentless in their haunting, unless you decide to take a stand against them to exorcise them. I think I’d just needed to say Marco’s name out loud to someone, to admit that I’d been thinking about him. It probably would have meant so much more if Jo knew the entire truth, knew the whole story between me and Marco, but it was enough for me to realize that what she’d said was true. I was too young to be haunted. I couldn’t let this resurgence of a life better forgotten ruin the life I wanted to make for myself.

I determinedly exorcised those memories, leaving them behind in my old room and venturing back into the present as I walked downstairs to join everyone.

My parents’ dining room was filled with chatter despite the fact that not everyone had made it to Sunday lunch this week. Ellie and Adam were at home because William had had a fever the night before and the three of them were exhausted. Jo’s uncle Mick and his wife, Dee, were on holiday in Las Vegas, so they weren’t with us, but Jo, Cam, and Cole were, as were Liv, Nate, Lily, and January. Joss and Braden were with us, too, along with Beth and Luke.

Mum had set up a kiddie table at the end of the room where Lily, Beth, and Luke sat with Mum, who was this week’s kiddie table chaperone. She had January in her arms as she watched over the wee ones and tried to feed herself.

“So, I need a favor and it’s a bit late notice,” I said to Cole over the children’s noise. Thankfully he was sitting next to me.

“I’m intrigued.” He raised an eyebrow. “Proceed.”

I smiled, rolling my eyes. “Well, your majesty, I’ve had a last-minute invite to my colleague’s wedding reception and I need a date. It’s next Saturday.”

“What time?”

“It’s just the after-party, so I guess we don’t need to be there until about eightish.”

“No problem.”

“You’re a lifesaver.”

“Begging Cole for a date?” Declan grunted at me from across the table. The boy had supernatural powers of hearing. “That’s a little pathetic, Hannah.”

“Are we in a pissy mood because you had to surgically remove your hip from Penny’s?” I gibed in return. “Tell me, Dec, how does it feel to be whipped at eighteen?” What can I say? My little brother brought out my mature side.

He glowered at me. “She’s at her nana’s today.”

“With her whip?”

“Ha ha, you’re so funny.”

“And whiplash-free.”

I could hear Cole laughing beside me, which pissed my brother off even more.

“Seriously?” Dec smirked. “When was the last time anyone wanted to date you? If you need some pointers, I’m happy to help. Let’s start with your face. You might want to do something about that. Plastic surgery maybe?”

“Oh.” I flinched as if I’d tasted something sour. “If we’re going to mock one another let’s keep it smart. I refuse to go into a battle of wits with the witless. It’s too easy. And rather insulting.”

“Children,” Mum called over to us, tsking. “Don’t make me remind you that one of you is an eighteen-year-old and the other is a twenty-two-year-old high school English teacher.”

“Elodie, don’t spoil the fun,” Cam complained. “These two are my weekend entertainment.”

“I’m thinking about filming them and creating a weekly blog,” Joss agreed.

Before I could think up a clever retort, we heard my mother tsk again loudly. “Beth, eat your greens. They’re good for you. Come on, eat your peas.”

“I don’t want to,” she whined, and we turned to watch her push her plate back. “They’re little fuckers.”

The room stilled, my mother’s gasp the only sound.

The laughter built up inside me and promptly exploded as Cole gave a bark of laughter. I collapsed against him, my face in his shoulder, and laughed until my belly hurt.

I could hear everyone’s laughter, and looked across the table at Joss to see that she was the only one mortified.

Wiping tears from my eyes, I asked, “How?” hoping she understood the question.

“I said it once,” she lamented. “Now she won’t stop saying it.”

“Mummy?” Beth asked, confused by our reaction.

“I still don’t understand.” Mum pinched her mouth together in affront.

Joss sighed. “I dropped a jar of peas and I thought I got ’em all, but I found some renegades later on and forgot Beth was there when I did.”

“Little fuckers,” Beth said promptly, obviously remembering the moment when Joss encountered the renegade peas.

That set us off again.

I had tears streaming down my cheeks.

“Baby, I told you, you can’t say that word,” Joss told her softly, ignoring the rest of us. “It’s not a nice word and Mommy was wrong to use it.”

Beth gave Joss a hilariously sly look that suggested she was intrigued rather than cautioned.

We were off again, Braden’s laughter louder than anyone’s. “Christ, next she’ll be repeating it in school.” He rubbed his eyes, his expression smoothing out from hilarity. “If she does, I’m leaving you to explain it.”

“What happened to being in this together?” Joss grumbled.

“She gets it from you, so you’re best equipped to deal with it.”

The look Joss cut him was not one of amusement.

“She’s definitely your daughter,” I said, picking my fork back up.

“Jocelyn’s?” Braden asked as Joss asked, “Braden’s?”

“Exactly.”