Page 31 of Save Me (Maxton Hall #1)

Ruby

When I get off the bus at school on Monday, James is leaning against the playing field fence, and he greets me with a crooked grin.

Given what happened a week ago at his parents’ shop, I’d never ever have believed I’d be pleased to see him waiting for me some morning.

“Hi,” I say, somewhat breathlessly, coming to a standstill in front of him.

His smile broadens. Apparently, he’s happy to see me too. “Hey.”

His eyes roam over my face, and again, there’s that unfamiliar feeling in my stomach. I wonder if my skin would tingle if he touched me the way he did on Friday. I hastily push the thought away to a dark corner of my brain. “Are you my escort for the day?”

His smile doesn’t slip. “I thought we could go in to assembly together so you don’t have to answer anyone’s questions.”

The next moment, he nods toward the school and starts walking. I hook my fingers through the straps on my backpack and follow him.

“How…How was the rest of your weekend?” I ask hesitantly.

“We had a family dinner yesterday.”

That’s all he says. I give him an inquiring sideways glance. He spots it, and his smile slowly fades.

“My aunt Ophelia was visiting. She and my dad don’t get on particularly well.”

For a moment, the fact that he’s told me something so personal leaves me speechless.

I wasn’t expecting that, especially since he told me how badly he and his sister have been let down after trusting people in the past. On the other hand, I did tell him something about me on Friday.

He must have noticed how hard that was for me.

And maybe he feels the same as me. Maybe he can sense that something has changed and doesn’t want to go back to the stilted way we’ve acted around each other till now.

Hope blossoms inside me. I have no idea what to call this thing between James and me—friendship? More? Less?—but I’d like to find out, little by little.

“Was there trouble?”

He digs his hands in his pockets. “Family get-togethers are never exactly peaceful. The Beaufort companies actually belong to my mother and her sister. But after my parents married, my dad took control of a lot of stuff and made a lot of changes too, some of which were pretty unpopular—especially with Ophelia,” he explains.

“Does she work for the firm too?” I ask curiously.

James grunts. “Yeah, but she has no say in relation to the main company. She’s five years younger than Mum, and so she’s always been a bit left out. She’s more involved in the subsidiaries and other companies my parents have a stake in.”

I wonder what Ember would think if our parents left us a firm but gave her no voice in it just because she’s younger. No wonder things get tense at Beaufort family dinners.

“There’ve been loads of decisions she’s disagreed with lately, so the mood was pretty crap. But…it was OK. I’ve had worse evenings with my family,” he says with a shrug, and the two of us turn left onto the path to Boyd Hall.

A girl in my history class comes past us. Her eyes widen at the sight of James and me together. I wrap my fingers a bit tighter around my backpack straps and gulp. But I put my chin up and stare back at her until she turns and walks off.

“Hey, easy there,” says James, nudging me slightly with his shoulder.

“What am I meant to do? If she stares, I’m going to stare back.”

He stands in front of me, blocking my path. “You’re letting it get to you too much. It doesn’t have to matter. Let them say whatever they like.”

“But it does matter.”

“So? They don’t have to know that. You just have to look like none of it interests you. Then they’ll leave you alone.”

Suddenly, his face changes—his eyelids droop a fraction, his eyebrows relax, his mouth turns up slightly at the corners. It’s his I-don’t-give-a-shit look, the one where he comes across as so arrogant that I want to shake him. “You look like you need a good beating.”

“I look like I’d enjoy a good beating. That’s the difference,” he replies, jerking his chin at me. “Your turn.”

I try to copy his expression. Not very successfully, if James’s twitching lips are anything to go by.

“OK. Well, maybe you could start by just not looking as though you’re imagining everyone around you being shot down in flames.”

We walk on, and I try to take his advice.

Even so, the closer we get to the school, the sicker I feel.

Just outside the door to Boyd Hall, James rests his hand on the back of my head and gives it a stroke.

Only for a second. It’s probably meant to be encouraging, but suddenly, I’m nervous for a whole different reason.

I don’t know how James does it, but a single touch from him is enough to throw my world off course.

It’s a brand-new feeling for me, strange and weird. But kind of nice.

“Beaufort!” someone calls behind us, making me jump. People stream past us into assembly, dodging James and me as we stop again.

Wren and Alistair come up the stairs toward us. “Hey, Ruby.” Wren rubs the back of his head, almost shyly. “Sorry about Friday.”

I’m not sure if he’s only apologizing for what happened at the pool or for the way he hassled me at the start of the party. I can’t ask without James hearing about Wren and me. I’m sure he’s only saying sorry for James’s sake, but I’m glad anyway.

So I just nod and say: “That’s OK, it wasn’t you who threw me in the pool.”

Wren gives me a surprised grin, like that wasn’t the reaction he’d been expecting.

I find my eyes wandering automatically to Alistair, who is watching me in silence. One look at his face makes me quite certain that he knows. He knows it was me who walked in on him and Kesh in the library.

I smile cautiously at him. He doesn’t smile back. His lips are thin and bloodless.

“Can we go in?” James asks, looking around the group. We grunt in agreement and walk up the last few steps.

Assembly has just begun as we arrive in Boyd Hall, and we try to sneak into seats in the back row.

Even so, I feel eyes on me as word of who’s sitting next to James Beaufort this morning gets around.

One head after another turns toward us as Mr. Lexington stands at the front and praises the lacrosse team for their outstanding performance on Friday.

I steal a glimpse at James, but his face shows no emotion, no hint that the situation or the murmuring around us could be unpleasant for him. So I gulp, press my lips together, and follow suit.

After assembly, James and Wren have maths, while Alistair and I are heading to the east wing for art. Before we say goodbye, James murmurs to me: “Remember the good beating.”

His words are entirely innocent, but I feel my cheeks burning hot. I ignore it and follow Alistair, who has already walked away. Things between us are still tense, but I feel the need to say something. But I have no idea what.

Alistair saves me the decision, taking my arm just before the classroom door. He pulls me aside and looks seriously at me.

“What you saw on Friday,” he begins quietly, then pauses. His eyes flit to a couple of people who’ve just come around the corner. He nods to them with a fake smile and waits for them to go past, into the room. Then he turns back to me. “You can’t tell a soul about it.”

“Of course not,” I answer, equally quietly.

“No, Ruby, you don’t understand. You have to promise me. Swear you won’t tell anyone,” Alistair whispers urgently.

“What makes you think I’d do such a thing?” I retort.

“I…It’s just…” He has to pause again as more students say hi to him in passing.

“Keshav doesn’t want anyone to know.” I can see by his eyes how hard it is for him to say those words.

Suddenly, he’s no longer the arrogant, posh boy who beats people up on the lacrosse field.

Now he looks incredibly young. And vulnerable.

No wonder. It can’t feel good to be with someone who keeps you hidden, like you’re a dirty secret.

“I won’t tell a soul, Alistair. I promise.”

He nods, and for a moment I can see the relief in his face. Then his expression changes, and he seems to be weighing me up. “If I ever find out that you did tell anyone, I’ll make your life hell.”

He then walks into the classroom without a backward glance.

I get through the rest of the day better than I expected. A few people give me funny looks or whisper behind my back, but nobody has the guts to speak to me or mention what happened on Friday. Looks like James’s protection this morning actually did the trick.

I eat lunch with Lin as usual. Or as usual until someone comes up to our table.

“Is this seat free?” asks Lydia Beaufort.

Lin and I turn our heads and stare at her. She gestures to the chair next to Lin with her tray.

“Yes?” I answer, although it sounds more like a question.

Lydia sits opposite me without hesitation, spreads a napkin over her lap, and starts to eat her pasta.

Lin glances inquiringly at me, but I shrug helplessly.

I have no idea what Lydia’s doing here. Maybe James has passed the job of escort duty on to her?

Or maybe she’s decided to follow through with what she said on Friday and keep an eye on me herself?

I look at James, who is sitting at the other end of the dining hall with his friends.

I might be mistaken, but the atmosphere between them seems less relaxed than normal today.

James and Alistair seem to be having an animated discussion while Keshav’s staring at his phone and Wren’s reading a book. There’s no sign of Cyril.

“He doesn’t know I’ve joined you,” Lydia says suddenly. She dabs at her mouth and sips from her water bottle. “I’m here because I wanted to apologize for Friday.”

“But you didn’t do anything,” I reply in confusion.

She shakes her head. “My friends and I were all out of order.”

“So you’re having lunch with us?” Lin asks skeptically.