Page 21

21. Violet :

(Shakespeare was right, the course of true love never did run smooth)

I’m not sure I would ever get used to waking up early, even with Charlie as my alarm clock.

I cracked one eye. Christ, it was barely light.

‘What time is it?’ I croaked.

‘Just gone six,’ he grinned as his mouth continued its trail over my shoulder.

On the other hand, I could probably get on board with kisses as an alarm clock. And whatever he was doing with his tongue right now.

‘We’re going to need to discuss this insistence you have with waking up before the sun. In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not a morning person.’

‘Funny you should say that,’ he murmured, reaching my neck, ‘I’m not either. Or I never used to be, but since I met you I kind of like the idea of being awake early if it means I get to see you for more minutes of the day.’

‘God,’ I groaned, ‘why d’you have to say stuff like that. Makes it so much harder to be mad at you for waking me up.’

He rolled on top of me, his mouth breaking contact with my skin for the first time, smiling down, making me think I was looking at a Colgate advert.

‘You can still be mad at me. In fact, why don’t you show me how mad you are before I have to leave for training.’

My thighs flopped to the side.

I couldn’t even stop them, I was so pathetic. I only had to feel the nudge of his dick at the apex of my core, and I’d give in. I didn’t try to put up any kind of fight. No protest, no objection, and barely any complaint even at the crack of dawn.

Charlie Masterson had all of me.

‘Why couldn’t you play a more sociable sport. One that meets at a more reasonable hour?’ I managed to breathe out, my neck craning back as he slid inside me. ‘Like rugby.’

The rumbling of a groan rolling through his chest set a wave of goosebumps shooting over my skin. On instinct my body arched into him for more.

‘You want me to play rugby?’

‘Yeah, they don’t get up so early.’

‘I could play rugby,’ he muttered, his tongue tracing the outline of my mouth, ‘I definitely could. But …’ he rolled his hips slowly against mine, too slowly almost. Frustratingly slowly, barely ghosting over the spot where I really needed the pressure, ‘the thing about rowers …’ one more roll, ‘they have stamina …’ roll, ‘they have endurance …’

The last rock of his hips ground so deep into my pelvis that I prayed these walls at St Anne’s were sound-proofed, because the groan I just let out could have been heard across the city. In my next breath I found myself flipped over so quickly, it was only his fingertips digging into my hips that stopped me from toppling off him, and the bed.

I stilled for a second, adjusting to the new position and the feel of him inside me. The soft smirk, green eyes twinkling, the way his hair always curled around the left side of his face, even at this disgusting time in the morning, he still looked insanely good.

The calluses on his palms, as he ran them over my skin, sent another cascade of goosebumps across my body to join the rest now pooling at the base of my spine. The delicious twisting of pressure was kicking up further with each swipe of his thumb against my pebbled nipples.

‘You’re so beautiful, Violet. I could look at you all day.’

His hands slipped to my thighs, gripping into my arse so he could control the movement – slow, deliberate thrusts with each steady rock of my hips until he needed more. We needed more. It didn’t take long for the tell-tale sign of an impending orgasm to make itself known.

My thighs gripped tighter, and his fingers dug harder. What started as slow and steady descended into two chaotic rhythmless writhing bodies, desperately chasing a release. Only when his thumb brushed against my clit with the pressure I’d been craving did my body give in and push me over the edge.

He followed less than a second later.

Just like every time before, we stayed glued together until our breathing synced and settled. Until he pushed the sweaty strands of hair away from my face and kissed me like he had no intention to ever stop.

He dropped a final kiss to my lips, ‘I have to go. I need to get back before the boys wake up, we have training at eight.’

He made no signs of moving away from under me, his arms wrapping me up while I listened to his heartbeat settle.

Eventually, I tipped my head up, ‘Charlie?’

‘Yeah?’

‘No pressure, but seeing as you’ve spent nearly every night here this week, we probably should tell my brother …’ Glancing away, my bottom lip caught in my teeth, ‘I know I said wait until the Boat Race, but you know, if this is a proper thing between us …’

‘Violet … Violet, look at me.’

My eyes flicked up again.

‘It’s a proper thing.’ He snuggled back down under the duvet with a long sigh, curling a strand of my hair around his finger, but all I could stare at was the red and white pastry box band still around his wrist like the most precious friendship bracelet. ‘You’re right, we need to tell him. I need to tell him. There’s so much drama going on in the house right now with Oz, and every time I try to talk to him something else happens. I haven’t wanted to add to the chaos, but I know I owe it to him, and you. I’m going to do it today. I wasn’t planning on waiting until the Boat Race.’

‘So you weren’t going to listen to me?’

‘I always listen to you.’ He smiled as he dropped one last kiss on my mouth, making me laugh.

‘Fine, but if he gives you a hard time, tell him he has me to deal with.’

He flung back the covers and stood up with a laugh. ‘Don’t worry, I will.’

Pushing myself up against the pillows, I took the opportunity to gaze at his fine fine arse before he pulled on his boxers.

Well done, Violet. Bloody well done.

‘Hey …’ I began, as he picked up the rest of his clothes, ‘can you leave me your hoodie?’

‘Yeah, why?’ he asked, tossing it onto the bed.

‘I want to wear it today, you know how girls wear their …’ I stopped talking, seeing as we hadn’t actually had that particular discussion. Were we still seeing how it was going? Because I think I already knew.

I glanced up to find Charlie peering at me in amusement. ‘You can finish that sentence.’

‘You know what I was going to say?’

‘I do. Even though I also like watching the conversation going on in your head, and reading it all over your face, I want to hear you say it.’

I shuffled up the bed, staying wrapped in the duvet just like they did in the movies, though I definitely wasn’t as graceful. Charlie sat down, his hands pushing through my hair until he caught a violet strand between his fingers and ran it under his nose.

‘Say it.’

‘I was asking if you’d leave your jumper with me, so I can be one of those girls who wear their boyfriend’s clothes to their games, or races …’ I shrugged, ignoring the grin plastered on his face. ‘Whatever.’

‘You want me to be your boyfriend?’

My shoulder jerked up again, even though there had to be a thousand worms squirming in my belly. It was only what I’d wanted for the past five years.

‘Yeah, if you want.’

Charlie shook his head, a smirk curving the side of his lip. ‘I want. A real one, that your entire family knows about. But … would you rather I was a rugby player?’

Sucking in the side of my mouth, my head crooked as I looked at him. ‘Nah. I’ll keep you as a rower. It’s okay. Hmm, my boyfriend’s a rower …’ I drummed my fingers against my cheek, ‘yeah, I like the sound of it.’

‘Well, thank fuck for that.’ He smacked a kiss to my lips, except he didn’t pull away like I expected him to.

Instead, it deepened. His big hands held tight onto my face as he became more insistent. Needy almost. And by the time he pulled away, if I hadn’t already been sitting in bed, I’d have needed something to cushion my fall because there’s no way my legs would have held me up. ‘I’m so glad I found you, Violet. You’ve no idea. I can’t believe you were under my nose the whole time.’

When I glanced up, there was an expression I couldn’t read swimming behind his big green eyes. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Yeah, never better.’

He turned and winked, right before he closed the door behind him. The second I heard the click of the latch I fell back against the pillows with a smile you could have seen from space, before falling back to sleep. I was so tired it didn’t dawn on me until later that he never called me his girlfriend.

‘God, where have all these people come from? I swear there aren’t this many students at Oxford. Why is it so busy?’ Stella grumbled.

‘It’s the final weekend before Easter and everyone’s stayed instead of going home, plus it’s sunny.’

Sunny was putting it mildly. According to the weatherman this morning, the southern parts of England would experience one of those freak early heatwaves with temperatures expected to reach 30 degrees. Therefore, in true British fashion the pub doors had been flung open and beer tents had been erected along the banks of the river. While I was all for the warmer weather, it did mean I couldn’t wear Charlie’s jumper unless I wanted to die from heat exhaustion. So, I’d tied it around my waist, but I could already feel the sweat pooling at my back where it was resting.

I’d predicted it would be busy, but I hadn’t guessed it would be this busy and I kind of wished I’d dragged Stella out a little earlier. Even with my post-sex nap I’d been fully awake and raring to go by nine a.m., but Stella had insisted we eat breakfast at the table instead of on the go, so by the time we finally left to walk down to the river we’d found ourselves among the crowds of Oxford students who’d had exactly the same idea.

We were walking among a sea of navy flags, carried by an army of pastel-shorts-wearing guys; a rainbow of pinks, yellows, pale blues and greens because the first sunny day meant the summer wardrobe had been raided.

‘Okay, we need a plan for where we’re going to watch. I say we go to the finish line.’

‘You don’t think it’ll be too busy?’

‘It will, but last year they set up a drinks tent so it’ll be easier for us to drink and watch.’

‘What about if I go to the riverbank and secure our spot, and you go to the bar?’

‘Good idea.’ She grabbed my arm and pulled me quickly past a group of approximately twenty guys, until I was almost jogging alongside her. ‘What are you doing?’

‘We’re not getting to the bar after them,’ she hissed, ‘we’ll be waiting all day.’

Her plan seemed to work because there was only a very small queue by the time we made it, deciding to abandon our original plan of splitting up, small enough that I waited with her as she ordered, and we took our drinks to an open space beside the Isis, between two of the college boathouses.

Across the banks, on the other side of the river, University of Bath supporters were out in full force, distinguishable by their royal blue and yellow colours.

‘Can’t believe this is the first race we’ve managed to get to.’

‘I know. I’m sure someone intervened to get Cecily to let us have this weekend off.’

‘Leo did,’ muttered Stella, and looked away.

I waited to see if she had anything else to add to her announcement, like he was the biggest pain in the arse she’d ever met, how annoying he’d been in rehearsals the other day, or French, or life in general. But now I came to think about it, I hadn’t heard her complain about Leo for a while.

‘Anyway,’ she continued before I could think any more of it, ‘what’s the run of the day?’

I turned around, looking for the notice board which usually listed the times of the races, ‘I’m not sure. It’ll get announced soon.’

Oxford had four main crewed eights – the men’s and women’s Blue Boats were the number one boats for each club followed by Isis and Osiris, the men’s and women’s second boats.

The women’s crews went first: Osiris followed by Blue Boat. While Osiris won by a photo finish, Blue unfortunately was nearly a full length behind.

Isis, the men’s reserve boat, fared a little better. Winning by a healthy enough margin that it spurred the crowds on to cheer even louder than normal.

By the time the men’s Blue Boat was set to get under way, sufficient amounts of beer had been drunk by the spectators that everyone was gearing up for a showdown. Rowdy chants were now providing the backing track for the day, and you could say what you wanted about Oxford, but there was nothing like it when the supporters were out in full force.

The sound of an airhorn ripped through the air, signalling the beginning of the race.

‘OXFORD! OXFORD! OXFORD! OXFORD!’ came the chants down the banks again.

‘Where are they? I can’t see,’ croaked Stella, whose voice had almost given up from all the shouting.

Squinting up the river, I could just make out the ripple of water where the two shells cut through, followed by the judges’ motorboat. This was the problem with rowing – you were either at the beginning, middle or end. You only truly got to relish in the excitement of the race up close, once the section next to you had passed on the baton of cheering.

‘They’re there, you’ll see them in a minute.’

‘Who’s winning?’

‘I can’t tell.’

I squinted again. It looked neck and neck, but it wasn’t. The closer they got, the more obvious it was that Bath was in the lead by half a length.

‘Shit,’ screeched Stella, pointing to the shells, just in case anyone didn’t know where they were. ‘They’re losing. Come on, Charlie! Pull your finger out!’

‘Come on, Charlie,’ I screamed next to her as they neared. ‘Come on, Hugo.’

‘DARK BLUES! DARK BLUES! DARK BLUES!’ sounded out another wave of chants.

‘CHARLIE! MOVE! OXFORD! MOVE!’ Stella screamed louder. ‘COME ON! MOVE!’

There’s no way any of the boys in the boat could have heard us. But fifty yards out it was like they hit a second wind of energy because out of nowhere Oxford picked up speed. Even from this distance I could see Oz powering through each stroke, setting a punishing rhythm.

Eight oars sliced through the water.

I could see the red face of my brother in six seat, rowing like his life depended on it. They all were. But my eyes barely flickered over the other boys before focusing back on Charlie, in seven. Even behind the sunglasses I could tell he was putting every last drop of strength he had into moving past Bath. His jaw popped with each formidable stroke, biceps and triceps pistoning and so in sync with Oz’s that you’d think they were attached by an invisible string.

I winced as Stella grabbed my arm so hard I swear she’d drawn blood. ‘Shit. They’re moving.’

I couldn’t breathe, even if I’d wanted to. Air stuck in my lungs, and by the time the two boats passed us they were neck and neck. One final gruelling pull on the oars, and Blue Boat slipped over the finish line first.

The sound was deafening. Almost as deafening as when Oxford won the Boat Race, and if they repeated today’s performance in two weeks’ time, you’d hear the chanting from the northern tip of Scotland.

Stella was still jumping up and down. ‘That was amazing!’ she screamed.

‘I know!’ I screamed back, because neither of us seemed to be able to stop, as we clasped onto each other, until it became clear I really needed to pee. ‘Come on, let’s get out of here. I need the loo, then we can go and find the boys.’

Holding out my hand, she grabbed it. The pair of us wove through the crowds thick with Oxford students. Several times we narrowly dodged a group of boys armed with several pints of beer each. Too many for them to safely hold without the risk of one being knocked, as the girl in front of us discovered. But she looked too drunk to care. We also dodged flying empty pint glasses, several Oxford University paper flags which had been waved around during the race, along with a couple of scarfs and one hat.

‘This is the problem with nice days, we can’t control ourselves,’ grumbled Stella as a rugby ball flew past her face, only to be caught by a guy on the other side of the crowds. ‘I mean, why do they need to be playing with a ball here? There’s a perfectly good field nearby.’

‘You tell ’em, Stella,’ I laughed. ‘Hey, shall we go to the bar on the way? The boys will need to get back to the club house anyway, we can meet them there.’

‘Yeah, good shout. Is there anywhere along the way that won’t be rammed?’

I shook my head. ‘Nope.’

‘Wishful thinking. Let’s just go to the last pub before we get there, then there’s less chance of us spilling, and more opportunity to drink.’

I slung my arm over her shoulder as we finally made it through the first throng of people, ‘I knew I was friends with you for a reason.’

‘Yeah. My ability to find suitable drinking establishments is unmatched.’

It took us nearly half an hour but we made it, virtually unscathed. The same could not be said for another rugby ball which this time, unfortunately, came into contact with Stella, and promptly found itself launched into the nearest hedge. The pub was quiet in comparison to those further up the river, and I managed to pee quick enough that our drinks hadn’t arrived by the time I got to the bar.

‘I’m going now. You wait here,’ Stella called as she ran off.

‘Hello.’

I turned to my right, and the owner of the voice I’d come to recognize. She really was like a bad smell.

‘What do you want, Evie?’

‘Just came to offer my sympathy.’ She jerked up a delicate little shoulder, the straps on her black sun dress barely moving.

I was too busy watching the barman pour out the two glasses of wine to really pay attention to anything Evie was saying. Plus, I wasn’t interested.

‘You know, about you and Charlie breaking up.’

My attention flicked to her, and back to the barman as he put two glasses down. I handed my bank card over to him.

‘What?’

‘Well, I assumed you’d broken up seeing as he asked me to meet him if they lost today. You know, to commiserate, I s’pose.’

‘You’re full of shit. Please go and bother someone else.’

At least I expected to be totally ignored, and she was still standing there when Stella returned.

‘What’s going on? Why are you here? Honestly don’t you have anything better to do with your time except torment people?’

‘No, not really.’

Even when Stella stepped in, towering over her, Evie didn’t flinch. ‘Were you following us?’

‘No,’ she shrugged, ‘just a lucky coincidence I guess.’

‘I don’t believe in coincidences.’

‘Oh well.’

I wasn’t sure who was going to win this staring competition. Stella had the height, but Evie had the deadness behind her eyes that made her seem invincible.

‘I’ll make it your problem unless you fuck off right now. Seriously, just fuck off. Leave Violet alone, leave me alone and leave Charlie alone.’

I tugged on Stella’s arm, ‘Come on, she’s not worth it. Let’s get our drinks and go.’

‘Why is she here?’ she hissed, spinning back around to Evie who hadn’t moved. ‘Why are you here?’

‘I was just congratulating Violet on the boys’ win.’

‘What?’

I tugged again, waving Stella’s drink in her face, hoping she’d get the message. ‘Stella, let’s go. She’s full of shit.’

‘But I specifically wanted to let Violet know that in class this week Charlie had asked if I’d meet him for a drink if they lost today. You know … to console him.’

Stella’s head twisted around to mine, but I held my mouth in a straight line and said nothing. She turned back to Evie. ‘You’re a filthy stinkin’ liar.’

I wasn’t sure Stella needed to add the 1920s American Gangster accent onto it, but it did add a little something. Evie was unfazed by it, however. Merely offered up a shrug and one of those smarmy smiles I really wanted to smack off her face.

Her ability to get under someone’s skin really was unmatched.

‘Ask him. I’m sure you’re on the way to the boathouse now. I did tell you, Violet, we always find our way back to one another.’

Stella finally snatched the glass of wine I was holding out to her, ‘Come on, let’s get out of here. Evie, go back to your coven.’

I left her standing at the bar, no doubt watching us leave, as Stella dragged me through a fresh swarm of students who’d descended on the pub, probably with the same idea we’d had.

‘That girl …’ Stella spluttered, ‘she’s genuinely got something wrong with her. How did Charlie ever like her?’

I shrugged, with a slow headshake, ‘Honestly, I think about it every day.’

‘You don’t think there was any truth to what she said?’

She’d asked the question right as I brought the glass to my lips, which resulted in me snorting a laugh and the wine shooting straight up my nose. At least wearing Charlie’s hoodie hadn’t been a total bust. It was a very handy face wipe.

‘No, I don’t. I can’t imagine a truthful sentence has ever passed her lips.’

The pair of us were still huffing and grumbling about Evie by the time we arrived at the boathouse five minutes later. And because luck seemed to be – mostly – on our side today, it was the exact moment Charlie pushed through the doors.

In less than a second, my mouth dried up. I almost slapped a hand over Stella’s eyes, because I wanted to be the only one to appreciate the work of art that was Charlie Masterson in all his post-race, sweaty glory. He’d pulled down the straps of his rowing singlet and was walking down the ramp, muscle upon heavily stacked muscle on full display. Even his abs seemed to have grown since this morning.

‘Holy crap,’ muttered Stella.

‘Hello, fancy seeing you here,’ he grinned, though stopped short of giving me the kiss I was expecting – the kiss he usually gave me – and instead I received a quick peck on the corner of my mouth and I realized why when he glanced behind him.

My brother was inside somewhere, and he still hadn’t told him.

Instead, the quick brush of his fingers against mine was enough to push away the minuscule shard of disappointment I knew was only popping up because of what had just happened with Evie.

‘Congratulations.’

‘Thank you, I won for you,’ he winked.

I smiled up at him right as Stella nudged Charlie’s shoulder with her own, ‘Nice win, Chuckles.’

‘Thanks,’ if it was possible his grin got wider, ‘it was a hard-fought race.’

‘You clearly fought the hardest,’ she croaked, and let out a little cough, ‘I’ve screamed myself hoarse.’

‘We appreciate it. That glass of wine seems to have helped though.’ He nodded to the plastic cup in her hand.

‘Yeah, never doubt the power of a glass of wine.’ She took a large sip as if to illustrate the point. ‘It was amazing, and well done Oxford for claiming overall victory.’

‘We’ve got some work to do over the next two weeks. But if today was any indication, the crew is in place for Blue.’

‘We’ll be there cheering you across the finish line at Chiswick Bridge.’

‘You’d better,’ he replied, looking directly at me, and this time a little spark of electricity shot between us as he touched my hand again.

‘Oh my god,’ Stella continued, not noticing she was completely interrupting a moment, ‘you’ll never guess. We bumped into that psychotic ex-girlfriend of yours.’

Charlie’s hand left mine and all the happiness dropped from his face, only to be replaced by deep frown lines marring his otherwise smooth forehead. ‘Evie? What? Where?’

‘In the pub. Honestly she’s so full of shit, she tried to convince us you’d made her promise to meet you if you lost, so she could make you feel better, or whatever.’

‘Yeah,’ I laughed, ‘I think Stella was ready to burn her at the stake if I hadn’t pulled her away.’

‘Evie told you I was going out with her if we lost the race?’ Charlie repeated.

‘Yeah, that girl is absolutely Coco-Pops,’ Stella snorted. ‘One day you’re going to end up with a rabbit boiling away on your stove.’

‘Ugh, Stel. Don’t say that. Don’t even think it,’ I frowned, and looked back up at Charlie.

For the first time I noticed how still he’d gone, the smile had completely vanished and the pinkish sheen of exertion was now kind of greyish. If his fists hadn’t clenched, I might not have questioned it any further. But, coupled with the panicked way his eyes narrowed, twisting knots kicked up from nowhere and stirred deep in my belly.

‘Charlie?’

Stella’s eyes shot to mine and back to Charlie. ‘She was lying, right? Evie was lying?’

‘Yes.’ He nodded, ‘Of course. I mean, I didn’t ask her to meet me, there’s no way … Of course, she was lying.’

His words should have made me feel better, but they didn’t. There was something about his tone. Why is it you can always sense the but ?

His hand reached around to the back of his neck, ‘Um … but she just made me say I’d take her out if we lost today.’

‘What?’ Stella and I blurted in unison.

I replayed it. I needed to make sure I’d heard correctly. Stella was of the same opinion given the way she was now looking at me.

‘What do you mean? Made you?’

His eyes were filled with sincerity, ‘No, it’s not a big deal, it’s not like how it sounds. She said she’d finally leave me alone if I went out with her. It was only if we lost though, and we didn’t so it’s okay.’

Yep. I’d heard, my eyes flicking to Stella again, who looked as confused as I did.

‘But you agreed to go on a date with her?’

‘Yes,’ he nodded. ‘To get her off my case.’

‘Sorry … what?’ interrupted Stella, because it was clear we needed a lot of clarification. ‘Say again? You were going to go on a date with that psychotic lunatic?’

‘No, of course not. No. Don’t be stupid. I was never going to go,’ he scoffed, like he couldn’t understand why we were having difficulty grasping what he was saying.

‘But you told her you would,’ I repeated, because I was also having difficulty. A lot of it, to be exact. ‘You told Evie you’d go on a date? Charlie, a date with someone who’s been terrorizing you so much that you asked me to be your fake girlfriend. Which I did. But you were going to go on a date with her anyway.’

‘It wasn’t a date. I just said I’d meet her if we lost. Lost,’ he repeated slowly, like I was remedial, or hard of hearing. I was definitely hard of something.

‘But you didn’t know what the outcome of this race was going to be.’

‘No, but –’

‘You could have lost.’

‘But we didn’t –’

‘But you could have. Which meant you’d be voluntarily meeting Evie.’

‘I guess. But I wasn’t going to go.’

‘Right, but you still agreed. And did you think for a second how I might feel about it?’

‘No,’ he replied so quickly he may as well have slapped me in the face. ‘I mean, no because I never thought we’d lose. We didn’t lose, so it’s irrelevant. I don’t know why you’re so upset. She agreed to leave me alone if I won. Leave us alone. Job done.’

‘But she clearly isn’t leaving you alone, or me alone,’ I snapped, ‘she just accosted us in the pub!’

‘Violet –’

My brother had never had the best timing in the world. Therefore, I never got to hear Charlie’s response because that was the moment Hugo decided to make an appearance.

He walked down the ramp, his arms held wide open while he tunelessly sang, ‘We are the Champions’ at the top of his lungs, followed by Oz, Bitters and two more from the crew whose names I couldn’t remember.

‘’Ello ’ello ’ello, what’s goin’ on ’ere then, ladies and gents?’ he smirked, before throwing his arm around me. I promptly threw it off before he could pull me into a headlock or worse, kiss my cheek.

It didn’t seem to deter him, however.

‘’Ello, Stelly Belly,’ he tried again, though he wisely didn’t touch her.

He stepped back, and just stood there with Oz, Bitters and the other two. It didn’t take long for them to notice the tension running through the three of us; Stella and me standing with our arms crossed, and the clench of Charlie’s jaw. Five sets of eyes widened as realization dawned that we were in some kind of stand-off.

The humour on my brother’s face was quickly replaced by confusion, and a little concern.

‘Seriously, what’s going on?’

‘Nothing,’ I snapped, my eyes still fixed on Charlie though he was no longer looking at me. He’d shuffled back and was looking at his feet.

It hadn’t bothered me up to this very second that he was yet to tell my brother about us, but right then as he shrank away it became clear that he had very little intention of doing so, even after our conversation this morning. I’d been blind to the fact that the boys lived together, trained together. He had had plenty of chances, and if he was serious about the two of us, then he would have said something already.

If he was serious about the two of us, he would have given me some consideration before agreeing to go on a date with his ex-girlfriend. I’d even have settled for him telling me about their run-in as soon as it had happened, but he hadn’t done that either.

It hadn’t occurred to him, because he hadn’t thought about me at all.

Either way you looked at it, it was fucked up.

‘Nothing is going on at all,’ I repeated, as I tried to swallow down the hot ball of tears creeping up my throat. ‘In fact, Stella and I were leaving. We just came to offer our congratulations.’

‘Yeah. Congratulations boys. So glad you don’t have to go through the ordeal of losing. Even if some of you deserve to.’ It was clear the snarl in her parting comment was only aimed at one person.

‘What?’

It didn’t surprise me that my brother’s face showed nothing but confusion. It did surprise me, however, that Charlie was yet to look at me, though given Stella was now trying to incinerate him with her stare it was unlikely he would.

‘See you around,’ she said, linking her arm with mine.

Before the two of us had even fully left the boathouse, the comments started up.

‘God, my sister is so weird.’

‘Mate, please let me ask her on a date? I beg you.’

‘Violet … Violet, come back!’ called the only voice I’d wanted to hear, but it was the one I was ignoring the most. ‘For fuck’s sake, Violet …’

At least I made it around the corner before I burst into tears.