Page 28 of Save You (Maxton Hall #2)

Ember

I’m kind of disappointed.

Ruby always made such a mystery out of these parties that God knows what I was expecting—but it was definitely not that I’d spend most of the evening standing around on my own, bored to tears.

While Ruby dashes around the room, from one corner to the other, to discuss whatever with whoever, I’ve managed to get into a conversation with exactly two people.

One was the daughter of someone who owns a chain of cafés.

I loved her dress so much that I had to ask her who the designer was, and if I could take a photo of her.

The other was the head girl of Maxton Hall, who made such a great opening speech that I wanted to congratulate her on it.

Not that she seemed remotely interested in my opinion, seeing as she spent the whole time glancing at the people standing around us, like she was looking for someone more important to talk to.

Kieran hardly leaves my side all evening.

Ruby must have ordered him to take care of me, I’m one hundred percent certain of that.

He’s kind, but after a while we’ve run out of things to say to each other and just sit staring in silence at the stage or into our glasses.

I feel a bit sorry for him. He must have better things to do than to babysit his team leader’s little sister.

While the last speaker gives a passionate call for more love and understanding in the world, I sneakily glance around for Wren, yet again.

He’s the only person out of everyone here who’s genuinely caught my interest this evening.

Something about him fascinated me, and I’d love the chance to spend longer chatting with him and learning more about him.

The round of applause snaps me out of my thoughts.

The speaker thanks her audience and finally leaves the stage.

Ruby is waiting for her at the foot of the few steps.

I catch my breath at the sight of her face—something has changed.

The smile doesn’t reach her eyes and looks fake to me.

Now that I think about it, this is the first time I’ve seen her in hours.

Has something happened? It can’t have anything to do with the gala, because everything is running like clockwork.

I’m wondering whether to go over to her when she and the speaker vanish off into a side room together.

I sigh.

And at that moment, I see Wren.

He’s leaning against the wall by the main doors. And he’s smiling over at me. For a moment I’m tempted to look around, to make sure that he really is looking at me, but…no, he is staring straight at me. Like he was before.

I think about it for all of two seconds. Then I mumble “excuse me” to Kieran and, taking no notice of his protestations, walk over to Wren—who doesn’t take his eyes off me the whole time that I’m slowly approaching him, and it suddenly seems a much longer walk than it really is.

“You’re back,” I say, once I’ve come to a standstill a little way away from him.

He nods and smiles. “We hadn’t finished what we started, had we?”

I don’t know if that’s intended to sound like a double entendre. Did I do the wrong thing in coming over to him? Because while he is undoubtedly flirting, all I want to do is talk—nothing more.

“No, we hadn’t,” I answer all the same. The attentiveness and interest in Wren’s eyes make a welcome change from the indifferent expression on every other face here. Maybe this evening won’t be a total waste of time after all.

Be careful, though , a voice whispers in the back of my mind.

The next moment, Wren reaches for my hand. I look in surprise at our interlaced fingers and then up at his face. He raises an eyebrow while giving my hand a squeeze, like this is the most natural thing in the world. I’m finding it really hard to know what to make of him.

Wren nods toward the exit.

I think for a moment, and glance over my shoulder. Ruby still hasn’t reappeared, and Kieran’s vanished too now.

Wren squeezes my hand gently again. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such an interesting boy.

His Insta account doesn’t do him justice, in my opinion.

His photos look deliberate—deliberately cheerful, deliberately cool—but in real life, his personality is much more likable.

And kind of mysterious. I really want to know what was going on earlier.

Why he’s faking a relaxed smile while his eyes are troubled.

In the end, I nod, and we walk out into the lobby of Boyd Hall. A woman in a drop-dead gorgeous burgundy dress walks past us, and I turn to watch her. The sight of the low-cut back with its delicate lace trim makes me sigh.

Wren gives me a sideways glance.

“I’m into fashion. And all the dresses people are wearing here…I wish I could find patterns for all of them, to sew them myself.”

I look at Wren, trying to decide if he thinks that’s weird, but his eyes are sparkling. He points to the curved staircase that leads upstairs. “I’ve got an idea.”

I follow him, careful not to tread on the hem of my dress as we walk up the wide steps. When we get to the top, Wren heads off to the left and leads me down a long dark corridor.

Corridors in my school are grubby, and the white paint on the walls is yellowish with age.

The dark green paint on the lockers peels more with every year, and people have graffitied pictures on the walls.

This landing couldn’t be more different.

There are expensive-looking paintings in heavy frames alongside photos of famous old Maxtonians.

There are glass display cases featuring artworks on loan to the school, and sculptures made by pupils here.

I’m so busy staring that I almost bump into Wren when he comes to a sudden stop. He looks around for a moment and then sits down on a wooden bench. He pats the empty space beside him and I take a seat too.

“Look,” he says, nodding toward the banister right in front of us.

Curiously, I peek between the wooden posts.

A smile spreads over my face. From up here, we have the best view of the Boyd Hall lobby and can watch people without them seeing us. I doubt that anyone would even notice us if they looked up. This part of the gallery is too dark.

“You’re a genius,” I say with a grin.

Wren grins back. “I’ve never been called that before.”

“Well, in that case, I hereby bestow the title upon you.” I tap his shoulders as if I’m knighting him with a sword.

At that moment, Wren catches my hand and holds it tight.

His facial expression changes. Suddenly, his eyes are serious and there’s a meaning in them.

It starts a tingling feeling that spreads from my stomach.

Nobody has ever looked at me like that before. Absolutely never.

There are no boys like Wren around where I grew up. To most people at school, I’m just Ember. I’ve known most of them since nursery school, and none of them think I’m anything special, or desirable. I’m actually struggling to breathe here.

Wren’s eyes wander from my lips to my eyes and back down again. He’s still holding my hand. With his other hand, he strokes a strand of hair from my face. His thumb brushes against my temple and a shudder runs through my body.

There’s chemistry between us, getting stronger by the second. I’ve never experienced anything like this. Every second—every breath—feels good and exciting and like we’re doing something wrong all at once.

“Sorry for vanishing on you like that earlier,” he says quietly. “Some people seem to think you need to be protected from me.”

“Why do they think that?” I whisper back.

He doesn’t take his eyes off my face. “Because they know me.”

That’s the only thing he says, then he comes closer and presses his lips onto mine. I squeak with surprise and Wren puts an arm around my back to pull me closer. His lips soften and open slightly. And then I taste it.

Alcohol.

I immediately push him away with both hands and budge a little over to one side. Then I shake my head.

“Wren.”

He looks confused. “What?”

My heart is pounding like crazy. That might have been the shortest kiss in human history, but I can still feel his mouth against mine.

“This isn’t how I imagined my first kiss,” I admit quietly.

My hands are shaking. I fold them in my lap and turn my face away so as not to have to see Wren’s reaction to my words.

I just keep looking down, through the banisters.

There’s a young woman walking through the doors, her dark blue dress almost like the night sky.

There are little shimmering specks in the train, catching the light with her every step.

“Your first kiss, hmm?” Wren’s voice is suddenly very gentle.

The man at the woman’s side puts his hand on her lower back and I watch them step into the hall together. “Yes.”

For a moment, he doesn’t speak. Then…“Sorry.”

The couple vanish into the crowd and I look back at Wren.

“I’ve had a pretty crap week. I thought we could cheer each other up a little bit.”

“I’m happy to talk about it, if you like,” I say. “But I’m not up for more than that. Especially not if you’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk. Just a bit tipsy, maybe. So I know exactly what I was just doing. And I’d want to do it again, without a drop of booze inside me,” he says, eyebrows furrowed. “Just so you know.”

“OK.”

Wren nods again and sinks back into the bench. He crosses his arms over his chest and looks up at the chandelier over the lobby.

“So why was it a bad week?” I ask after a while.

He holds his breath. I can tell by the way his body tenses that he wasn’t expecting the question, and that he’s making his mind up whether he wants to answer it or not.

We can just about hear the school choir singing, but I only dimly take in their gentle harmonies.

After a while, Wren takes a deep breath and shuts his eyes. “My parents went bankrupt a while back.”

“What happened?”

Wren gives a barely perceptible shrug. “Dad lost almost his entire fortune playing the markets.”

Oh, wow. I can imagine what it must be like for someone at Maxton Hall to lose practically everything from one day to the next.

“I’m sorry.”

Wren presses his lips together and stares at the railing.

“What does that mean for you?” I ask cautiously.

“We’re moving. After that, I don’t know. I got into Oxford, but God knows how I’ll pay for it now.”

“Well, you can get a student loan, and there are scholarships and stuff. My sister is applying for one. Maybe you could get a job too.”

He nods absently. “Yeah, I guess.”

For a moment, we listen to the choir down below, who’ve switched to a cover version of a pop song. It feels almost peaceful up here—not like Wren just told me something so sad.

Suddenly, his upper body turns toward me and he looks at me again. I don’t know how much effort it costs him, but from one moment to the next, his expression is no longer lost, but as curious as it was at the start of the evening.

“Your turn,” he says. “Tell me something about you. So far, all I know is that you’re Ruby’s sister and that you’re into fashion.”

I smile at him, unsure what I’m prepared to tell him.

“I’ve been running a plus-size fashion blog for about eighteen months.

It’s called Bellbird ,” I say, deciding to start with the most important yet most innocuous thing.

As far as I’m concerned, the entire world can know about my blog.

I’m proud of what I’m doing, especially since the rebrand.

The smile is back on Wren’s face. “That sounds cool. How did you get into it?”

I’m surprised by his question, but in a good way.

I lick my lips. “I’ve been fat all my life.

” I pause for a moment, keen to see how Wren will react to this statement, but he surprises me a second time by just looking attentively at me, waiting for me to go on.

“And it’s not because I eat too much, like people always think.

That’s just the way it is. And it’s really hard to find attractive and fashionable clothes for my body shape.

So eventually, I started to sew my own. And I’ve been sharing them on my blog ever since.

And I write stuff, encouraging people to accept themselves the way they are. ”

Wren’s smile doesn’t budge an inch. If anything, it’s broader now. “You sound like a superhero, Ember.”

I feel the heat creep into my cheeks. But false modesty is not exactly my thing, so I say: “I am a superhero.”

Now he laughs. It sounds raw and lovely, and I think I’m going to remember it all night long. For a moment, I regret breaking off the kiss. But deep down, I know that it was the right thing to do. I’d regret it a lot more if I hadn’t, I’m sure of that.

“Well, now I know what I’m going to be doing tonight,” Wren says after a while.

“What’s that?”

His dark eyes start to sparkle. “I’m going to read your blog. Every single post.”

Now I have to smile too. “That’s quite an undertaking. I’ve written at least twice a week, for a year and a half.”

“Oooooh-kaaay,” he drawls, stretching the syllables out. “It might take me a little bit longer, then.”

Just then, the choir stops singing, and I break into a mini round of applause. A man down below seems startled, stops, and looks up. I hastily duck my head down, hoping he didn’t spot us. I have no idea if we’re even allowed up here.

Wren laughs softly. “Anyone would think you didn’t want to be caught with me.”

“If my sister finds out I’ve been spending time with a boy, alone in a dark corner, she’ll freak out.”

Every bit of amusement drains from Wren’s eyes. He opens his mouth and shuts it again. Whatever he wants to say, he can’t psych himself up to it. In the end, he sighs.

“Then I should probably take you back downstairs. I hope Ruby didn’t notice that you snuck out.”

For a moment, I’m disappointed, but I guess he’s right.

Wren stands up and holds out his hand. Automatically, I put my hand in his and walk along the corridor with him and down the stairs, until we’re outside the doors to the hall.

“Thank you for rescuing my evening,” Wren says, and he sounds like he means it.

As he gives me one last smile, I feel a sudden urge to stop him leaving. But he’s already turned away.

Something in my belly clenches with longing. I sincerely hope that that wasn’t my last encounter with Wren Fitzgerald.