Page 146 of Good Girl, Bad Blood

‘H-have you heard?’ Pip said, and her voice sounded strange to her, not her own. ‘The verdict?’

‘What?’ Nat narrowed her eyes. ‘No, no one’s called me yet. Are they done? What . . . ?’

And Pip could see the moment it happened, the moment Nat read what was on her face. The moment her eyes changed.

‘No,’ she said, but it was more a breath than a word.

She stumbled back from the door, hands snapping up to her face as she gasped, her eyes glazing over.

‘No!’ The word was a strangled yell this time, choking her. Nat fell back into the wall in the hallway, slamming against it. A picture frame dropped from its hook, cracking as it hit the floor.

Pip darted forward, inside the house, catching Nat around the arms as she slid down the wall. But she lost her footing and they slid down together, Nat right down to the floorboards, Pip to her knees.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Pip said. ‘I’m so so so sorry.’

Nat was crying, but the tears stained as they ran through her make-up, black tears chasing each other down her face.

‘This can’t be real,’ she cried. ‘It can’t be real. FUCK!’

Pip sat forward, wrapping her arms around Nat’s back. She thought Nat would pull away from her, push her off. But she didn’t. She leaned into Pip, arms climbing up and around her neck as she held on. Tight. Her face buried into Pip’s shoulder.

Nat screamed, the sound muffled, burrowing into Pip’s jumper, her breath hot and jagged as it spread down into Pip’s skin. And then the scream broke open and she cried, shaking the both of them with the force of it.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Pip whispered.

Twenty-Nine

Nat’s scream never left her. She could feel it there, slinking around beneath her skin. Feel it simmering as she walked into her history lesson eighteen minutes late and Mr Clark said, ‘Ah, Pip. What time do you call this? Do you think your time is more valuable than mine?’

And she’d replied, ‘No, sir, sorry sir,’ quietly, when really all she wanted to do was let the scream out, tell him that yes, it probably was. She’d taken her place next to Connor at the back, her grip tightening on her pen until it snapped, pieces of plastic scattering between her fingers.

The lunch bell rang and they followed it out of the room, she and Connor. He’d heard about the verdict from Cara because Ravi had texted her, worrying when he hadn’t heard back from Pip. ‘I’m sorry,’ was all Connor said as they traipsed towards the cafeteria. That’s all he could say, all Pip could say too, but there was no amount of sorrys that could ever fix this.

They found the others at their usual lunch table, and Pip slotted in beside Cara, squeezing her hand once in greeting.

‘Have you told Naomi?’ Pip asked her.

Cara nodded. ‘She’s devastated, can’t believe it.’

‘Yeah, that sucks,’ Ant said loudly, cutting in as he tore into his second sandwich.

Pip turned to him. ‘And where were you yesterday, during the search party?’

Ant rearranged his eyebrows, looking affronted as he swallowed. ‘It was Wednesday, I was at football,’ he said, not even looking at Connor.

‘Lauren?’ Pip said.

‘Wh . . . my mum made me stay in to do French revision.’ Her voice was high and defensive. ‘I didn’t realize you expected us all to be there.’

‘Your best friend’s brother is missing,’ Pip said, and she felt Connor tensing beside her.

‘Yeah, I get that.’ Ant flashed a quick smile at Connor. ‘And I’m sorry, but I don’t think Lauren or I are going to change that.’

Pip wanted to carry on picking at them, keep feeding the scream under her skin, but she was distracted by someone behind Ant, her eyes pulling her up. Tom Nowak, loudly laughing with a table of his friends.

‘Excuse me,’ Pip said, though she was already gone, skirting around their table and across the loud chaos of the cafeteria.

‘Tom,’ she said, and then again, louder than their guffawing.