Save Me (Maxton Hall Series 1)
Save Me: Chapter 23

How do you talk to someone you’ve made out with?

The only other boy I kissed before James was Wren, and I just ignored him at the time and pretended it never happened. That’s out of the question with James. I spend much of Sunday lying on my bed staring at his sweater, which is still on my desk. I’d like to message him or call him, but other than can we please do this again? and What does this mean for us now? I can’t think of anything to say, and I don’t dare to do that. Especially since he and his parents disappeared so abruptly yesterday that I couldn’t even say goodbye to him.

In the end, I get on my nerves with the brooding so much that I decide to distract myself and start with the follow-up to the event. Except for the brief power outage at the very beginning, everything went according to plan, and I had an email from Principal Lexington in my inbox this morning praising our team for the good work. I forward the mail to the team mailing list with a few warm words. After that, I grab one of the books my grandparents gave me for my birthday and read the first few chapters. Marking important places and providing them with colorful post-its has always helped me to bring order to my confused thoughts. As I take notes, I fill my head with information and facts, trying to dispel the memory of James’ tight grip on my neck and his mouth on mine.

I wonder how many girls he must have kissed to be so good at it.

I wonder how far we would have gone if his father hadn’t interrupted us.

I wonder if I’ll get the chance to kiss him like that again.

Okay, maybe the book doesn’t dispel the memory the way I imagined. But I refuse to let James throw me off my game. And I’m certainly not going to let James steal my mind. I’ll keep my sanity. He’s mine and won’t disappear anywhere just because James released a few butterflies in my stomach.

This afternoon I read almost the entire first half of the book, although that’s totally exaggerated. In the evening I am so tired that I fall into bed half dead. Unfortunately, I only dream of James, his dark eyes and the way he whispered my name hoarsely, again and again and again.

The next morning feels like my first day at school. I’m nervous and excited, and my stomach does a somersault as the bus comes to a halt at the bus stop. I wonder what it will be like to see James again. Will he come to me? Or should I go to him? Is that too offensive? Are we going to pretend that nothing happened? Or are we clearly more since Saturday? Thoughts are running over in my head, and I’m annoyed that I didn’t just call him yesterday. Then at least I would now know where we stand and how I have to behave. I hate that I’m so insecure.

After I get off the school bus, I make a special effort to straighten my school uniform. No crease must be in the wrong place, my tie must be straight. I carry the bag I got from James over my shoulder. Their weight gives me a strange security. As if it were a confirmation that there really is something between James and me. I run my fingers over the initials on the flap as I look up at the massive iron gate of Maxton Hall.

I can do it. Behave normally. Everything is as usual, I say to myself in my mind, press my back and enter the school grounds. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FɪndNovᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

During the assembly, James is nowhere to be seen. His friends are sitting in the last row, and as I walk past them to the front, I hear Cyril let out a snort. I don’t know if it’s for me, but a queasy feeling spreads through my stomach. I turn around, and he looks at me coolly. I ignore him.

In the first block I have art, and no matter how hard I try, I just can’t concentrate. All I can think about is the fact that after that, I’m going to go to math, which takes place in the same room that James is sitting in at that moment. We have often met in the corridor between lessons, because Mrs. Wakefield almost always overruns her hours.

When the doorbell rings, I try not to get up from my chair too quickly, but judging by the look Alistair gives me from the other side of the room, I only succeed moderately. I start walking in the direction of the main building. The closer I get to the room, the faster my heart beats. Just before I have to turn into the hallway, I stop and straighten my black over-the-knee stockings so that they are at exactly the same height. Then I take a deep breath and go around the corner.

I’m mentally prepared to meet James, but when I spot him in the hallway next to Lydia, my heart skips a beat for a moment. To see him in the school uniform seems strange and familiar at the same time. After a short pause in which I try to calm my pulse, I continue walking. I can simply greet the two of them. Just say hello, nothing more. There is nothing funny about that. That it will be funny is the last thing I want. I have only to look into his eyes to know what is going on. Will I find the same nervousness in it that tormented me all Sunday?

Lydia discovers me first. Barely noticeable, she nudges James with her arm. He mumbles a few words and nods to her. Then he comes up to me. My smile mutates into a grin on its own. He is only a few steps away from me, and I open my mouth to greet him, as …

… he runs past me.

‘Hey,’ I hear him say behind me. I turn around and see him greet Cyril. They talk briefly, James gesticulates, and Cyril lets out a laugh. The two walk the few meters to their room and then disappear into it without looking back.

A nasty pain spreads through my chest. I remain in place, in the middle of the hallway. I swallow hard. When I look up, there is only Lydia besides me. For a moment it looks as if she wants to say something, but then she also turns around without saying a word and disappears into one of the rooms, while I can’t put one foot in front of the other. It’s simply impossible for me to move.

I spend the rest of the day as if in a trance. Each lesson seems longer to me than the previous one. I hear the words our teachers say, but I don’t understand them and I don’t absorb a single one of them. During my lunch break, I just can’t manage to go to the cafeteria. Just the idea of seeing James there with his friends, firmly anchored in his world again, turns my stomach. Instead, I sit down in the library and stare out the window.

I just don’t know what I did wrong. I can’t explain why he behaves like that. I’m racking my brains about it, but I didn’t make a mistake. And even if I did, I didn’t deserve him to treat me like that. During math, I tried to convince myself that he probably just didn’t see me. But when we met in the corridor after the lesson, he passed me again without even looking at me. An unmistakable signal.

Of course, Lin realizes that something is wrong, but I haven’t told her about the kiss yet, and now I can’t. It feels like there’s an open wound in my chest. Everything hurts: when I breathe, when I move, when I speak.

Lin has to take over the team meeting on her own, while I just sit next to her and scribble in my planner. I discover the place where I painted over James’ name with extinguishing liquid. No one knows what’s underneath, but I run my finger over the white spot and swallow hard.

I didn’t imagine our kiss. The way James said my name. How he looked at me. How desperate his touches were. There was something between us. Something big. And even if for some reason he came to the conclusion that the whole thing was a mistake, then he could have just told me. I’m a rational person and know that there are some things that simply don’t work. That would have hurt too, but I could have lived with that.

What I can’t cope with is the fact that he misbehaves so badly. And the longer I sit in the meeting and stare at his empty seat, the angrier I get. Was it all just a game for him? Did he want to see how far he could take me? Maybe it was also something his friends challenged him to do. Or he just wanted to wrap me around his finger so that I could put in a good word with Lexington. I feel sick just thinking about it. Was everything I’ve learned about him in the last few weeks nothing but a lie? Was he the James Beaufort I first met all along? Calculating, deceitful and arrogant?

I look out of the window and can see the lacrosse team on the sports field in the distance. My anger rises immeasurably. It devours me from the inside out, and my skin becomes hot and cold at the same time. Unconsciously, I clench my teeth so hard that they grind. It takes me the greatest effort not to let any of the emotional chaos that rages inside me show during the meeting. When it’s over, I turn to Lin.

‘Is it okay if I leave? I don’t feel well.’

She looks at me thoughtfully and finally nods slowly. ‘Of course, I’ll take care of everything. We can also talk on the phone later, if you like.’ It sounds like a cautious offer, and I gratefully shake her shoulder.

I leave the room without saying goodbye to the others. The bag over my shoulder suddenly no longer seems like a gift from a friend, but like a bribe. I can’t focus on anything but my disappointment and anger as I stomp through the library and run outside towards the sports field.

I can hear the shouts and roars from afar. Damn lacrosse.

At the edge of the pitch, I come to an abrupt stop and look around with my arms crossed. It doesn’t take long for me to discover the royal blue jersey with the white seventeen.

‘Beaufort, your girlfriend is here,’ Wren calls out less than a second later. Even though I can’t see his grin through the helmet, I can hear it clearly in his tone.

James turns to the side and sees me standing on the edge of the field. I almost expect him to ignore me again, but then he makes a hand gesture.

‘Keep going,’ he shouts and jogs over to me. When he arrives at my place, he looks at me for the first time that day – at least that’s what I think.

‘Well.’ My voice trembles with anger. I don’t know that from myself. I’m always composed, never so agitated that I can’t control myself. Since when have I been like this? Since when can I no longer approach things rationally, as I used to?

Since James has been in my life, the answer is. I’ve only been like that since I’ve known him.

He remains silent. I wait for him to make some kind of emotion, but he doesn’t.

‘Can you take that thing off?’ I ask, pointing to his helmet.

He sighs annoyed, but complies with my request. His hair is sweaty and disheveled, his cheeks reddened. Now that he’s right in front of me, I can see a wound on his mouth. It looks as if he has fought himself. Carefully, I raise my hand – it happens all by itself – to touch him, but he flinches back. I clench my hand into a fist and let it fall again discouraged.

‘What’s wrong with you?’ I ask angrily.

His face is completely emotionless when he looks at me. ‘What’s the matter?’

I’m sure my cheeks are just as red as his, and that’s only because he’s making me so mad. ‘You’re acting like an asshole, that’s what’s going on.’

His brows contract just above his eyes. ‘Am I doing that?’

‘Stop acting so stupid and tell me why you’re ignoring me,’ I demand, quieter, but no less emphatically.

Again, he doesn’t say anything and just looks at me as if this conversation bores him to death. I take a step towards him.

‘Was this all part of your plan?’ I ask him. ‘Were you just kind enough to me so that you could train again?’

He lets out a snort that almost sounds like a laugh, but all of a sudden he can’t stand my gaze anymore. Instead, he looks at the floor, where the tips of our shoes almost touch.

‘In case I need to remind you, you kissed me after I dismissed you from the event team. So that really wouldn’t have been necessary at that time.’

He just continues to remain silent.

‘Why are you acting like that?’ I ask him, and I hate that my voice trembles. ‘Is it because of your father? Has he done anything?’

James looks up again, and now his eyes seem to reflect my anger. ‘If you feel better with it, then feel free to interpret it that way.’

It feels like he’s punched me in the chest. ‘You kissed me. Not the other way around. You didn’t have to do that if you’re so ashamed of it afterwards.’

The furrows on his forehead are getting even deeper. ‘Don’t read so much into it. You gave me something, I liked it. End of story.’

‘You liked it – end of story?’ I manage incredulously. I can’t believe that the guy standing here in front of me is actually the one I kissed on the stairs on Saturday. That it was his tongue that parted my lips, his touch that made my knees go soft.

Now he just shrugs his shoulders.

‘Heavens, James, what’s wrong with you,’ I murmur, shaking my head.

Even though I’m so angry, I wonder where the wound on his mouth came from. Who he fought with. Whether I could have done something about it.

‘You could have just told me that the kiss was a mistake,’ I say as calmly as possible.

‘Well, then I’ll tell you right now,’ he replies coolly. ‘That was a nice thing, but it’s really time we went back to before.’

I can’t believe that he just said that seriously. I feel like I’ve landed in the wrong movie. Something is terribly wrong here, but I can’t stop it anymore. It feels like an avalanche that is unstoppable and sweeps everything around it with it.

‘You don’t have to maliciously destroy our friendship just because your friends or your parents talk you into something, you know?’

He smiles, but it’s more of a grimace and can’t be compared to the way he’s looked at me in the last few weeks. ‘You try like a maniac to control everything around you, to correct every flaw you find in others – but it doesn’t work that way, Ruby. This has nothing to do with my friends or family. This is me.’ He puts the flat of his hand on the chest protector. ‘Horrible and perverse and false. You should begin to get used to the idea.’

The anger disappears, and in its place comes despair. It’s exactly the same feeling that came over me at the party when I imagined having to say goodbye to him. But now it is much more violent and hurts much more. Because his farewell to me seems final.

I make one last attempt and raise my hand, place it on his cheek. I gently stroke his skin with my thumb. ‘You are neither horrible, nor perverse, nor false.’

He lets out a bitter laugh and shakes his head.

‘I don’t want to lose you,’ I whisper, summoning up all the remaining courage I can find within myself.

He puts his hand over mine on his cheek. He closes his eyes, and it almost looks as if this moment is causing him physical agony. His fingers gently stroke the back of my hand, and a tingling sensation spreads through me. ‘You can’t lose anything that doesn’t belong to you at all, Ruby Bell.’

He pulls my hand off his face. Then he opens his eyes again and looks at me. It’s the same look as two months ago – cold and distant. All of a sudden, I feel hollowed out. An icy coldness spreads through me as the meaning of his words reaches me.

‘Beaufort!’ shouts Wren across the sports field. ‘You’re missing your first training session in weeks. Come now, man!’

He wants to turn around, I can see that in the way his body tenses. It is as if he is connected to his friends by an invisible wire.

‘Are we done here? The boys are waiting,’ he says emotionlessly, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb.

Never in my life have I felt so humiliated. Adrenaline rushes through my body as pain, despair, and anger mingle. I have to clench my hands into fists so as not to bump them against his chest. I want it more than anything, but he’s so cold and dismissive that I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of losing his composure in front of his friends.

‘Yes. We’re done,’ I say as dignified as possible.

James doesn’t care about my dignity. He turns around before I finish the sentence and runs back to his friends. My pride disappears a little more with each of his steps, until I can hardly manage to stand upright.

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