Page 36 of Save Me (Maxton Hall #1)

Ruby

Mr. Lexington’s steely gaze bores into me as I try to keep still and not squirm about in my chair.

It never feels any less weird to sit in his office.

His stance is the same as ever: hands loosely folded on the desk but looking at me with a razor-sharp air, as if he’d stop at nothing if it would benefit our school. I wouldn’t want him as an enemy.

I doubt that I’ll ever get used to this weekly meeting with him. Especially not when Lin leaves me in the lurch like she’s done today because she’s had to go to London to help her mum with a reception at the gallery.

But there’s one upside to being alone in front of the head’s desk right now, facing his eagle eyes. I got to make my suggestion without Lin eyeing me askance or kicking me under the table.

“Do I understand you correctly, Miss Bell?” Lexington asks, leaning a little closer. He furrows his brow at me. “You want me to lift Mr. Beaufort’s punishment?”

I nod slowly. “Yes, sir.”

He narrows his eyes further still. “Why should I share your opinion? It isn’t even half-term yet.”

“He’s really put a lot of work in, sir,” I say, “in a way I never expected. He has good ideas, and it’s thanks to him that we’ve been able to raise the bar for Maxton Hall events with the Halloween party.”

Lexington leans back, exhaling audibly.

The thought seems to please him. He reacts to anything that makes Maxton Hall look good like a magpie that’s found a glittering jewel.

I decide to go the extra mile. “I think James can serve the school better on the lacrosse team. They need him. Roger Cree is good, but he doesn’t have as much experience.

Mr. Freeman said so when we interviewed him for the Maxton blog on Friday. ”

Lexington’s frown deepens. I can see that he’s weighing up the pros and cons in his mind.

“And you’re not just saying that because the boy is causing trouble, and you want to get rid of him?” he insists dubiously.

I wonder what Lexington would say if he knew that the opposite was true. I don’t want to get rid of James. If I had the choice, I’d spend every moment of my time with him.

But after he confided in me and I realized what the upper sixth means to him, I couldn’t help myself.

I just had to speak to Mr. Lexington. It was the only thing I could think of that would genuinely help James and take a tiny bit of the weight off his shoulders—however briefly.

I’m not just doing it as a favor to him though, but because it’s true.

James really has put the effort in, and that should be rewarded.

At least this way he gets to spend the rest of the season playing lacrosse with his friends and enjoy the year.

I can’t suppress the question of what this means for us though.

We’re friends now, aren’t we? Or something like that.

Will he spend time with me after this? Probably not.

The thought makes something clench painfully in my chest, but I put all my strength into ignoring it. I’m doing this for James, not for me.

“Miss Bell?” Lexington’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts, and it takes me a moment to remember what his question was.

I shake my head. “Not at all, sir. I’m just thinking about the good of the school. He’s helped us, and now he should go back to helping his team. We can’t afford another thumping like Friday if we want to defend our title.”

Bull’s-eye. Lexington’s gray eyes flash, his shoulders suddenly tense.

“I see.” He nods, and I find myself holding my breath.

“Very well. Mr. Beaufort may end his work on the events committee and get back to playing lacrosse.” Relief floods through me, and I start looking forward to how James will react when I tell him the news.

I smile gratefully, but Lexington holds up a warning finger.

“But not until next week, after the party. I’m not taking the risk of him coming up with some new way to embarrass the school. ”

My smile only slips slightly. “Of course, sir.”

“And keep this to yourself for the time being.” He picks up his telephone receiver, presses a button, and growls: “Ask Mr. Freeman to come to my office, would you?”

I sit uncertainly on my chair. I don’t know whether I’m free to go or whether the head wants to discuss something else with me, but when he looks up, frowns, and waves vaguely with his hand, I take it as my cue to leave the room.

I wasn’t exaggerating when I told Lexie that we’d raised the bar with the Halloween party.

Once the day finally dawns, we tick off the last few preparations; then, it’s as though a huge boulder falls from my heart as the first guests start to arrive.

The party is a success. More than that. It’s beyond my wildest dreams.

Jessalyn’s and Camille’s decorations look amazing.

They’ve hung fancy vintage picture frames in the entrance to Weston Hall—old family portraits and huge mirrors, lit up from all angles.

There are black lace tablecloths and napkins on the buffet and the little tables around the edge of the dance floor.

They have spanned thin cobwebs all around the room, plus dozens of chains of fairy lights—at least fifty—flickering with a candle effect.

We decided not to use the chandelier, and there are large silver candlesticks on the tables and windowsills instead; they don’t give much light, but that only adds to the ghostly, mysterious atmosphere.

The room is filling up now, and nearly all the tables are in use.

Mr. Lexington is giving his official welcoming speech, watched by Lin, me, and the rest of the events team from the side of the buffet.

He praises our organizational skills, at which Camille takes a step forward and waves to the audience like a queen.

Lin and I look at each other, failing to suppress our grins.

I have to admit though that we all look like royalty today.

I’m wearing the dress from the Beaufort archive, and Camille’s apricot gown is perfect against her pale skin.

Jessalyn’s expansive dress is pale pink, while Lin’s is the same shade of royal blue as the school colors.

I wonder if that’s deliberate. The boys look amazing too.

Doug’s simple sand-colored suit is cut like the one James is wearing on the poster.

And Kieran…Kieran’s top hat, black suit, jacquard waistcoat, and beige neckcloth make him look like he’s genuinely from a different age.

The head teacher brings his thanks to a close and bows with a flourish of his top hat. I don’t dare look at Lin this time—I’d be sure to burst out laughing.

I feel jittery. I don’t know whether that’s because everything’s gone to plan so far and the party is going to be a success or because I’m scared of some unforeseen disaster. My eyes flit nervously around the room.

“He’ll be here soon,” Lin whispers in my ear.

“I have no idea what you mean,” I retort, equally quietly.

That’s a lie. I know exactly who she means.

There’s no sign of James yet. His friends and Lydia aren’t here either, although his parents are, as they’re on the PTA.

I’m painfully aware of his absence; although I don’t want to let it distract me, it feels like an important part of the party is missing—after all, he worked as hard as the rest of us to make it a success.

Everyone claps after Lexington’s speech, and we move apart to take up our positions.

I join Lin and the caterers in keeping an eye on the buffet, watching as Jessalyn, Camille, Doug, and Kieran move onto the dance floor with some of the theater group.

The music begins, and the five couples dance in formation, going through an array of steps that look incredibly complicated to me.

I’m so glad they bought my argument that someone has to look out for the guests, meaning that I don’t have to join in.

Kieran and a girl I don’t know lead the other dancers across the floor, moving apart so that girls and boys line up opposite each other.

They run past each other on the diagonal, circling around and meeting in the middle, face-to-face once more.

All eyes in the room are on them, the guests watching the dance spellbound.

At that moment, the huge double doors to Weston Hall fly open. One by one, people turn to look, making Kieran and his partner pause in their dance for a moment. I frown at the door. My heart leaps.

James and his gang walk in, each smarter than the next.

James is wearing the antique Beaufort suit, but the others have dressed extravagantly too—perfect down to every silk square, every button.

Lydia is wearing a gorgeous silver silk dress, and her fantastic hairdo must have taken hours.

They all look as though they’ve stepped out of a Victorian film.

As they pass the dance floor and head for the buffet, you can see on their faces what they think of this party.

Cyril turns up his nose, while Wren’s flushed cheeks suggest that he’s had a drink or two already.

Kesh’s black eyes flit unimpressed around the room and over the guests.

At the sight of me, his expression darkens, and he puts more distance between himself and Alistair.

It seems like a reflex action, which makes Alistair frown in annoyance.

James comes over to me, and I virtually drink in his appearance. I’ve seen him wearing that suit on hundreds of posters in the last few weeks, but, in the flesh, it takes my breath away—as it did that day in London. By the time he stops in front of me, my heart is pounding rapidly and unevenly.

“So? How’s it going?” he asks, a mocking smile on his lips. He acts like he didn’t just crash our party late.

“Brilliantly,” Lin answers for me. Apparently, I spent a bit too long staring at James.

He nods. “That’s good.”

“Hope it’s going to be better than the last one, or we’re out of here,” grumbles Cyril.