Page 9 of Save You (Maxton Hall #2)

Ruby

Christmas is my favorite time of year.

I love all the decorations that turn the whole world into a wonderland.

I love the special food, the music, the films—and of course I love all the sweet treats.

I love choosing or making presents for my family and then wrapping them up beautifully.

Normally, the run-up to Christmas feels magical—as if Father Christmas, or Jack Frost, or whoever, has sprinkled a dusting of glitter over everything.

This year, everything is different.

Although, no. This year, everything is exactly the same as ever. It’s just me who’s different.

The preparations are just no fun because my mind is with James the whole time.

I try to take my mind off him, not to think of him, but it doesn’t work.

Everything that happened over the course of this term keeps replaying in my mind like a depressing film, again and again, until I have to go for a walk to clear my head.

There are days when I wish I could just stay in bed, or that I could go back in time.

I’d like to go back and live in a world where nobody at school knows my name, least of all James.

Sometimes I lie in bed at night and look at the photo of him laughing, or the Halloween party invitations that feature the two of us.

I remember the feeling of his fingers on my hand.

Of his kiss. I remember his quiet voice, whispering my name.

I’m more than ready for the holidays. At least this way, I’ll have a chance to put a bit of distance between me and Maxton Hall.

Because even if James won’t be back at school until next term, right now I’m filled with panic every time I turn a corner or walk into a classroom, in case he’s there.

Which I wouldn’t be able to deal with. Not yet.

Luckily, my family is providing plenty of distractions.

Mum and Dad spend a lot of time squabbling in the kitchen and regularly need me to rule on whether Mum’s latest batch of mince pies tastes better with or without Dad’s latest new spice blend that he’s added to the filling.

In previous years, I’ve mostly sided with Mum, but to my surprise, I realize that Dad’s creations are growing on me.

Ember finds plenty to fill up the rest of my time with.

We do what feels like about two thousand photo shoots for her blog, even though I’m sure half the photos turn out rubbish because my fingers are shaking with cold.

And this year, she’s decided what we ought to give our family for Christmas, when normally, that’s one of my favorite things to do.

Her ideas are great—we’ve made a calendar filled with family photos for our grandparents and put together a personalized spa gift set for Mum.

For Dad, Ember spotted an ad from someone selling a pretty 1960s spice rack, and I haggled them down to ten pounds for it.

“You’re a pretty tough negotiator,” Ember says as we wipe it down the best we can in our little garage. She pulls a face as she dusts all the spiderwebs off the back of the thing. “Maybe you should rethink your career goals.”

I’m in the middle of spreading out old newspaper so that we can start revarnishing it, but I force myself to grin.

She looks at me searchingly, a pensive frown forming between her eyebrows.

“I don’t suppose you want to finally talk to me, do you?”

“About what?” I ask flatly.

She snorts. “About why you’re acting like a robot? About whatever it is that’s wrong with you?”

Her words make me flinch. This is the very first time that Ember’s spoken about the way I’ve been, rather than acting like it’s normal for me to only leave my bedroom when I absolutely have to and barely utter a word to anyone.

She hasn’t pressured me and hasn’t asked questions, and I’m so grateful to her for that.

But apparently, the grace period is over.

She doesn’t know what happened between James and me in Oxford, let alone that he then went and kissed Elaine.

I feel as though I have to come to terms with that whole thing myself before I can tell anyone else about it.

Getting through the days at school is hard enough.

But Ember isn’t just my sister, she’s my best friend.

I know that I can trust her. And maybe it is time to stop lugging this burden around all on my own.

I take a deep breath. “I had sex with James.”

That wasn’t actually the first thing I was planning to say, but hey.

Ember drops the duster. “You what ?”

Without looking at her, I start unpacking the DIY face masks and laying them out neatly. I fiddle with the elastic straps that go behind your ears.

“A day later, he was making out with another girl,” I say, my voice shaking.

I stare at the white straps on the dust mask as Ember comes to kneel beside me on the newspaper.

“Ruby,” she says quietly. Cautiously, she lays a hand between my shoulder blades, and I feel any last remnants of my resistance start to crumble.

Ember and I haven’t always been as close as we are now.

It was after Dad’s accident that we grew together, looking out for each other whenever he was having a bad day, was furious with the entire world.

We understood why he felt like that, but it wasn’t an easy time for us. We only got through it together.

The bond we’ve shared since then is different from anything I’ll ever have with anyone else, and as Ember squeezes my shoulder, the words just burst out from me.

I tell her everything: about the Halloween party; about James’s father and the expectations he puts on his son, and how hard that pressure is for James to deal with; about Oxford and everything that we shared with each other then.

About the evening when Lydia came round to ours and drove me to Cyril’s.

About James, who’d done cocaine and then jumped into the pool. And about Elaine Ellington.

As I speak, the whole gamut of emotions flits across Ember’s face: sympathy, outrage, incredulity, excitement, and, finally, deep anger.

Once I’ve finished, she spends a minute just looking wide-eyed at me, then, without a word, she takes me in her arms and gives me a hug.

It’s the first time in days that I haven’t felt the urge to cry.

A warmth fills me, settles over my stormy feelings and seems to soothe them, a tiny bit at least.

“I just don’t know what to do now,” I mumble into Ember’s shoulder.

“On the one hand, it’s so awful that this has happened to him.

I wish I could be there for him. But on the other hand, I don’t want to see him ever again.

Not after what he did to me. I want to go over there and scream at him, but I can’t because I know how shit things are for him. ”

Ember pulls away from me and takes a deep breath. She brushes my hair off my cheek and behind my ear. Then she gently strokes her warm hands over my head. “I’m so sorry, Ruby.”

I gulp hard and pluck up all my courage to say, “I hate him for it.”

Ember’s green eyes are full of empathy and affection. “So do I.”

“But I keep asking myself if that’s even allowed.”

She frowns and shakes her head. “You have every right to feel that way, Ruby. You’re acting like there are set rules for a situation like this, but there aren’t. You just feel the way you feel.”

“Hmm,” I grumble uncertainly.

“And if there are days when you want to give James a slap, that’s totally legitimate—whatever things are like for him at the moment,” Ember continues, her voice insistent.

“You can’t make your feelings dependent on his, just because he’s going through a shitty situation.

He acted like an arsehole, and if you ask me, you’re entitled to tell him that.

What am I saying? You’re entitled to shout it from the rooftops. ”

It takes me a moment to process Ember’s words. “I just get the feeling,” I begin slowly, after a pause, “that nothing’s going to change, whatever emotions I allow myself. It’s either going to hurt because of his mum or because he cheated on me. So that’s why I’m trying…”

“…not to feel anything at all,” Ember finishes my sentence quietly.

I nod.

“That doesn’t sound very healthy, Ruby.”

I stare at my hands as silence expands between us.

After a long time, Ember sighs. “I just can’t believe he actually did that. I mean, I know what people say about him, but…” She shakes her head.

“I seriously thought it was a nightmare. He was…like a whole different person.”

“It sounds so horrible.”

“The other thing I don’t understand is why he didn’t just come to me. He could have told me about everything. We could have…” I give a helpless shrug. I have no idea what I would have done if James had come to me. But at any rate, none of this would have happened. I’m sure of that.

“I expect he probably wasn’t in the mood to talk that evening,” Ember suggests hesitantly. “It sounds to me like he was trying to destroy even more of his life, without thinking about the consequences.”

I take a jagged breath.

“Anyway, I get why you feel this way. It’s totally OK. And I hate him too for what he did to you.”

Ember flings her arms around me again and this time I hug her back, just as tight. “Thanks, Ember,” I whisper.

After a long moment, she shoves me back and gives me a warm smile. “Shall we get started?” She points to the spice rack.

I nod, glad not to have to speak any more about my feelings. We put on the face masks and search for suitable music. Ember picks the Michael Bublé Christmas album and together we start on varnishing.

“Oh, and I’ve hit six hundred,” she says after a while.

I cheer and pretend to bow down to her. “You’re a queen.”