Page 17 of Save You (Maxton Hall #2)

Ruby

“D’you think Beaufort’s been crying?” is the first thing I hear upon walking into the library study center on Wednesday afternoon. The events committee meeting isn’t for another half hour, so I’d been planning to use the time to borrow a book that’s been on my Oxford reading list for months.

But I regret the decision the minute I hear the loud giggling.

“He’s welcome to cry his eyes out on my shoulder any time he likes.”

I stand on tiptoes to peek through the books on the bookshelf. I can see two girls sitting side by side at a desk, their heads together over a book. They’re plainly not working though. They aren’t even bothering to keep quiet.

“Apparently he’s not averse to offers of consolation.” The first girl gives a suggestive grin.

“He must be even richer after his mum died, and that makes him even hotter.” The other sighs. “Maybe I’ll give it a go.”

Fury bubbles up inside me. One, we’re in the library; and two, they have no right to speak that disrespectfully about James; but on top of that, I can’t go anywhere in this school without hearing his name, and that’s doing my head in.

On my way here, I passed three groups of kids who were chatting about him, and it’s been like that all week.

It’s not like there isn’t any other gossip they could be getting their teeth into—Alistair was caught in the boys’ loos, kissing some bloke who doesn’t even go to this school.

And Jessalyn is now seeing the boy who—allegedly—fell asleep in the middle of doing the deed their first time.

I still don’t know whether to believe that part, especially considering the beaming smile plastered across her face the whole time these days.

There’s also a rumor that after their mum’s death, Lydia fell into Cyril’s arms and they’re now more than just good friends.

I really doubt that one, though, and she has more important stuff on her mind anyway.

On the other hand, after I heard the story, I glanced over at Cyril in maths, and he was looking so smug that for a brief moment, I wasn’t sure what to believe.

But despite all that, everyone always wants to talk about James. Always and everywhere.

Did you see those photos of James Beaufort?

I felt so sorry for him.

Is he really going out with that Ruby?

It makes my throat dry out and my heart start thumping every single time. How am I ever meant to forget him when he’s the number one topic of conversation and I can’t even get away from that in the library?

Abruptly, I pull the book off the shelf and walk around into the study area. The girls jump as they realize that they’re not alone. As I march toward them, I wonder whether to say anything, but I don’t have the energy. I glare scornfully at them and walk past, in the direction of our group room.

As I get there, I shoot through the door as fast as I can, then lean my back against it. I shut my eyes, rest my head against the door, and try just to take a few deep breaths for a moment.

“Hey.”

My eyes fly open.

James is sitting on the other side of the room. On the same chair he always sat on last term, when Mr. Lexington made him join the events committee as a punishment.

He looks different. There are dark rings under his eyes and there’s a hint of a shadow on his jaw to show that he hasn’t shaved. His hair is even messier than normal, probably because it’s grown.

I wonder if I look different to him too.

Seconds pass and neither of us moves. I don’t know how to act in his presence. I’ve been blanking him in corridors between lessons, but now we’re the only people in this room.

“What are you doing here?”

My voice is hoarse. But the last thing I want to do is give him the idea that he still has an effect on me. No, he needs to think I’m totally unfazed by being around him.

“Reading.” He holds up a book—wait, it’s a manga. I read the title with a frown, even though I’ve already recognized the picture on the cover.

James is reading Death Note. Volume three.

I once told him that’s my favorite.

I look at him in confusion.

“It’s our team meeting in a minute, so if you’d kindly find somewhere else to read…” I push myself away from the door and walk over to my place, as if my pulse isn’t thumping in my ears right now.

I slowly unpack my things and spread them out on the table, then I go to the whiteboard and write the date in the top right-hand corner.

I wish there were any other jobs to do, but Lin has both the laptop and our notes in her bag.

So I sit down and pretend to be engrossed in reading my bullet journal.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see James put the manga down on the table in front of him. His movements are slow. It almost feels like he doesn’t want to startle me. I feel his eyes on me and find myself holding my breath.

“I’d like to rejoin the events committee this term.”

I freeze. Not looking up from my planner, I say: “What?”

“If you and Lin don’t mind, I’ll run it past Lexie.”

I look up in disbelief. “You can’t be serious.”

James stares calmly back at me. Now I know what seems so different about him.

He still looks tired, but that look of despair I saw in his eyes at New Year’s is gone.

It’s been replaced by a calm that, in that moment, really gets to me.

I can be strong when he’s messed up. It’s when he’s quiet that I get edgy.

Is that what people mean when they say people complement each other?

Or do we just knock each other off-balance?

“I enjoyed it here, even if I didn’t expect to at first. I want to be part of the team again.”

I can’t stop staring at him. “I don’t believe you.”

“You said yourself that I’m a good organizer and that the team wouldn’t be the same without me. And the training schedule for this term means that lacrosse and the events team only clash once a week. The coach is OK with it.”

I pick up my backpack and start digging around in it, just so that I don’t have to keep looking at James. I have no idea what this means.

I’m not an idiot—James isn’t here because he’s rediscovered his love for Maxton Hall events.

It definitely has to do with me. But what he said is true.

Thinking back to last term and the effort he put into the Halloween party, I have to admit that James’s presence was anything but a drawback for the team.

His ideas and hard work helped make the party a total success.

If I chuck him out now, I’ll have that on my conscience for the rest of the year, especially when we could do with an extra pair of hands, or someone else’s opinion. My duty as team leader is clear—plus, I’d have to explain everything to Lexie if I turn James away.

“So long as everyone else agrees,” I say in the end.

“OK.”

I gulp hard. Even if James does want to get involved on the team again, that doesn’t take away from what I said at New Year’s. Keeping school and my private life apart always used to be my specialty. And even if I let a few boundaries get blurred last term, that’s not going to happen again.

“I’ll be voting against,” I continue, giving him a hard stare.

He leans his arms on the table and meets my eyes just as firmly. “I know.”

It takes less than five minutes for the others to vote to readmit James as a new/old member. Meanwhile, I sit at the front, my cheeks burning, and try not to let on how much the idea of spending three afternoons a week in this room with him from now on is getting to me.

Lin distributes handouts and gets straight down to business.

“Can someone bring Beaufort up-to-date with our plans for the charity gala?” she asks.

I let my eyes wander over everyone in turn.

These meetings have been routine for me, but I guess that’s a thing of the past. James just being here is a total distraction, setting off an avalanche of memories that makes my entire body tremble.

I remember the feeling of his hands on my legs, my stomach, and my breasts.

The way he whispered my name. His mouth, and what it felt like on my lips and my skin.

I feel my face flush even redder and try desperately to suppress the thoughts. This isn’t the time or the place. It’s time to keep my personal life strictly out of school again.

“The charity gala is happening in February,” Jessalyn says in answer to Lin’s question. “The PTA has decided to raise money for the Pemwick Family Center. They want to expand their mental health work and they’re really short of cash for that.”

“It’s going to be as fancy as every year,” Kieran adds.

“Black-tie, and we’ve got a huge budget to play with.

Lexie is expecting us to butter everyone up so they’ll donate loads of money.

” I jot down fancy party and huge budget , which is utterly pointless because I’m perfectly well aware of both facts, but it gives me an excuse to look down and away from James’s eyes.

“It’s going to be in Boyd Hall. There’s a drinks reception with canapés first, then a banquet by a chef from a five-star hotel.

He’s had firsthand experience with the Family Center and their work, so he’s doing it for free.

So we’ve got more to spend on décor and entertainment,” Lin explains.

“We’ve hired a pianist from London for background music, and Camille’s family recommended a troupe of acrobats for the grand finale. ”

“Some of them used to be in Cirque du Soleil.” Camille sounds very pleased with herself.

I’m about to write Cirque du Soleil when I clock how silly I’m being.

I can’t spend an hour and a half sitting around staring at my notebook just because James is here.

I put my pen down again and look at Camille as she takes over. “They’re going for a mystic vibe.”

Next to me, Lin sighs. “But we still have the same old problem of finding sponsors who want to come to the gala and make a donation. We can’t just invite parents.

And we need people to make speeches. It would be ideal if the Family Center had helped them in the past, because that would make it sound really authentic. ”

“Last week, we said we’d keep asking around,” I say, finally able to speak. “Did anyone get anywhere?”

I just have to look at the discouraged faces of my team to know what they’re going to say.

“No one answers my emails, and if I phone, they either say maybe next year, or just come straight out and tell me to leave them alone,” says Kieran. “Nobody wants to talk about their past problems. Least of all at Maxton Hall.”

The others nod.

“Maybe we need to think outside the box a bit,” suggests Jessalyn. “Maybe we don’t need people to have used this Family Center, just something similar.”

“Good idea,” I say. “We could also ask the local universities if anyone in their relevant departments would be prepared to speak.” My smile is more confident than I feel. “We’ll get there. We’ve got a while yet.”

Murmurs of agreement.

“Now that you’re back on the team, it would be great if you could take charge of décor, and arrange things with the company and Mr. Jones,” Lin suddenly says to James. “He can always use a hand getting the hall ready.”

I pluck up the courage to glance at James.

He blinks in mild confusion, but just says, “Sure.”

I’m trying really hard not to grin at that. Cleaning the hall with the caretaker is a nightmare job—no one wants to get stuck with that, so it makes me laugh that Lin has just delegated it to James. And it’s further proof of what a great person she is.

The rest of the meeting goes to plan, but I’m glad when the ninety minutes are up.

Lin and I divide up the jobs we have to do, while everyone else says their goodbyes and leaves the room—except for James and Camille, who seem to be packing their stuff extra slowly.

I try to pay them no attention but without much success.

I hear every word of condolence that Camille is murmuring.

My stomach clenches, but I remind myself that I’m not going to feel hurt by James anymore, and certainly not for James.

I don’t intend to feel anything when it comes to James Beaufort from now on.

“See you later,” I mumble to Lin.

She nods and shoos me away. I pick up my backpack and head to the door, staring straight ahead.

At the very moment I reach for the handle, a hand closes around it so that mine ends up on top.

I look up into James’s face. We’re only inches apart.

I take in his familiar smell, spicy and a bit like honey, and the warmth of him.

“Ruby,” he whispers.

I pull my hand away like I’ve burned it. Then I look at him with the expectation of him either moving his own hand or opening the door. He hesitates a moment, then turns the handle.

I exhale. “Bye, Lin,” I say, hurrying out of the room.

I walk to the bus stop faster than ever as his voice echoes around my head and through my whole body.