He shakes his head. “Don’t worry, Dad. Unlike Izzy, I’m actually dealing with my grief and talk about Mum with my friends. I don’t act like she never existed.”
I suck in a breath. “I don’t act like she didn’t exist.” He’s so far out of line. So what if I don’t talk about Mum with him? I think about her all the time. Sometimes it feels like I think about her every minute of the day. “I would never act like she doesn’t exist.”
Ethan just stares back at me. I can’t read the look on his face.
“How dare you? I don’t act like she doesn’t exist at all. You have no idea what’s going on in my head.”
“Yeah, well thank God for that because there’s some seriously messed up shit going on in there.”
My hands clench into fists and it takes everything I have not to throw my drink at him as he glares back at me.
My father clears his throat, looking between us in bewilderment. He has no idea how to deal with us. He’s never had to parent us both before when we’re fighting, that was always my mum’s job. “Well, Ms. Joot was very concerned about you. She used the word self-destruct several times. Now I’m not sure what you’ve done—”
“Dad, I’m fine.”
“It’s already been arranged. You’ll go to therapy and that will fix things.”
I scoff, shaking my head as I look down at the table. “Don’t worry, I won’t take up any more of your time. I know it must have been inconvenient having to discuss me.”
“That’s not fair, Isabella.”
“You know, I hate being called Isabella. You’d know that if you knew a single thing about me.”
His mouth sets into a hard line as I push back my chair and stand.
“It’s a little bit late to start acting like the concerned father now.” I grab my jacket and pull it on then push the chair back in under the table. “I’ll make my own way home.”
Then I get the hell away from there because that last thing I want to deal with right now is fake concern from the only parent I have left just because the school guidance counsellor told him just how messed up I actually am.
I’m staring into my locker trying to think which books I need to grab for my afternoon classes when it’s shut in front of me.
“Hey!” I turn to see Ethan stood there, Finn beside him.
“I think you should do what Dad said. You need to see that therapist.”
“Well hello to you too, Ethan. How nice to talk to you after weeks of you ignoring me.”
He scowls. “Don’t be a dick. I’ve been thinking about it, and I really think you should go.”
“Why? Because I have some seriously messed up shit going on in my head?” I snap, repeating the words he said last night back to him. “I’m not going.” I can’t think of anything worse than me having to talk through everything and dissect my behaviour.
“Really? You’d rather just carry on like you are now?”
I take a deep breath to try to calm down and stop myself from losing my temper. I turn back to my locker, opening it up and grabbing a couple of textbooks, hoping they’re the right ones.
“Ethan, I’m fine. I’m dealing with everything fine.”
He scoffs. “You think this is dealing with your shit?”
“It sounds like it could really benefit you, Izzy.”
I whirl to face Finn. How dare he have an opinion on this when he’s made it perfectly clear how little he thinks of me and how he wants nothing to do with me? “You know what, Finn? This really doesn’t have anything to do with you, and I’d really prefer the guy who’s ignored me for weeks stayed out of my business.”
Finn eyes harden but he doesn’t break his stare, and I have to look away.
Apparently Ethan doesn’t like the way I’ve spoken to Finn. “Why do you have to be like that? He’s just being nice.”
I turn my back on him to walk away because I’m so tired of fighting with him. I know my behaviour has been out of line and I know he has a right to be angry with me, but when he’s talking to me like this, it just makes me want to shout back, which will only damage our relationship further.
“Biz, I’m talking to you,” Ethan snaps from behind me. He sounds irritated. He’s always irritated with me.
“Forget it,” Finn mutters from next to him.
“Biz?!”
I turn back to him. “What?!”
“What the hell is wrong with you? Why do you have to be like this?”
I bark out a humourless laugh. “Do you think I like being like this, Ethan? Do you actually think I like myself right now?”
That silences him.
“Do you think it feels good to me that I screwed you over so bad you don’t want to know me anymore? Do you think it feels good that I messed up my life so bad in the UK that I got pulled over here and even though I’m desperate to get back there, I’m not sure any of my friends will even talk to me anymore?”
He takes a step towards me, but I throw my hand up to stop him.
“Do you think I like that you can sit and talk about Mum and laugh at your memories whilst they turn me inside out? Do you think I like that I resent you so bad because you’re able to move forward and not be stuck in this permanent horrible state of sadness?”
“Biz—”
“And do you think I like that I’ve been such a complete bitch in the last year? That I can’t seem to help it? Do you think I’m not terrified that I’m like Dad? That I took his traits and not Mum’s and I’ll end up just like him?”
“I didn’t—”
“So when I say I don’t want to go to therapy, it’s not because I want to piss you off. It’s not because I don’t think it might benefit me. It’s not even because this is the first time you deemed me fit to talk to in weeks and you’re already shouting at me. It’s because right now I can’t handle it. It’s because I’m trying to deal with everything in the best way I know how, rightly or wrongly, and you having a go at me is not helping.”
This time when I turn to walk away, he doesn’t stop me.
I’m sat in maths struggling to concentrate. My mind is a mess, and not just about fighting with Ethan again. I got another couple of text messages from Kristen this morning. She wasn’t saying anything in particular, just filling me in on gossip she thought I might be interested in, like how Mr. Smith walked out of school and how her mum has a new boyfriend. It made me want to ring her immediately, to focus on something else other than this guilt I feel over Ethan and ask my best friend what I should do—but I don’t ring her. Of course I don’t. No matter how much she tells me she misses me, I know she’ll remember what I did. I know she won’t be able to get over it.
Mr. Evans is just announcing what our homework for the weekend is when there’s a sharp knock on the door.
It’s opened before Mr. Evans can say anything, and I turn my attention that way as someone steps inside.
I say someone because all I can see is a pair of bare legs and a huge bouquet of flowers. I can tell it’s a cheerleader because they’re wearing their uniform.
I glance around the room and see Pippa pulling a confused face a couple of seats over.
“Hello?” Mr. Evans asks.
The bouquet of flowers drops slightly and Evie pokes her head over the top.
Oh jeez.
“Hi, Mr. Evans,” she says brightly.
Her eyes dart around the classroom and rest on Ethan for a second. I’d bet any money that whatever she’s about to do has something to do with him. She has not taken their breakup lying down. From what I can tell, she moped around for a couple of days feeling sorry for herself and then went on a charm offensive. She’s apologized to Rachel countless times and has been friendly and nice to anyone and everyone. She’s obviously trying to show that her behaviour was just a one-off. I really hope Ethan’s not dumb enough to fall for it.
“I’m so sorry to interrupt your lesson,” Evie starts.
“No problem at all,” Mr. Evans replies, and I struggle not to ro
ll my eyes. She even has the teachers wrapped around her little finger.
“I just wanted to pop in and give these to Rachel,” she says.
Rachel’s jaw falls open in shock as Evie makes her way down the row and places them on her desk. She deposits them there, flashing Rachel a perfect smile, and then heads back to the front of the room.
She pauses and turns back to face us. “I just want to say, publicly, how sorry I am about my actions a couple of weeks ago,” she says loudly, making sure we can all hear. Her eyes dart to Ethan and then away again. “There’s absolutely no excuse for my behaviour, and I can’t apologize enough. I’ve been taking a hard look at myself and have sought the help of a therapist to keep me on track so I don’t fall back into bad habits. While I always have the best of intentions, I’ve realised sometimes my actions can be misconstrued, and if I can make it up to you in any way, please let me know. I’ve already told the other cheerleaders that the profits from our next fundraiser are going to go to the math club.”
Oh she’s good.
“And I just want to know, Rachel, if you can ever forgive me? I know these flowers don’t make up for anything, but if you could find it in your heart to forgive me then I’d be so grateful.”
The attention of the class shifts to Rachel, who is just gawping back at Evie in amazement. Rachel has already accepted her apology—numerous times. She doesn’t say anything for at least ten seconds then realises Evie is actually expecting a response. “Um, sure…no problem.”
Evie claps her hands together in delight before her face goes back to the mask of piety she’s clearly going for. “And there’s one more person I need to apologize to.”
My eyes find the back of Ethan’s head. Wait for it…
“Izzy.”
Oh for God’s sake.
“I’m so sorry I put you in a position where you felt you had to stick up for Rachel. While you didn’t get entirely the right impression”—bullshit I didn’t—“I shouldn’t ever have taken a picture of someone without their knowledge, and I want to thank you because your reaction has made me re-evaluate myself and ultimately made me a better person.” Her eyes find mine. “So, again, I’m sorry, Izzy. And thank you.”
Oh she’s very good. Her eyes dart to Ethan again, making sure he’s taken all that in, and I feel like I should stand and give her a round of applause. She did this in the one class Ethan, Rachel, and I share. She deserves an Oscar for that performance.
“Well, that’s it,” she says cheerily. She turns to our teacher. “Mr. Evans, thank you so much for letting me interrupt for a couple of minutes, and the rest of you have a fantastic afternoon.”
With that she turns and flounces out of the room.
“Well,” Mr. Evans says, looking after her fondly, “it takes real self-reflection to admit when one is wrong. What a wonderful girl.”
He turns back to his planner and continues reading out our homework, but I don’t take anything in as I watch Ethan looking at the door where Evie just exited.
I really, really hope he doesn’t fall for it.
“Hey.”
I look up from my desk at the end of chemistry class, and see Matty stood there. I haven’t spoken to him in what feels like forever. He’s given me the odd smile here and there, which is definitely more than what any of their other friends have done since Craig showed up here and started all that drama, but apart from that, he’s pretty much avoided me. “Hi.”
He studies me for a couple of seconds before letting out a long sigh. “Are you okay?”
I nod, standing and throwing my notebook into my bag, wondering if he’s heard about my latest fight with Ethan and Finn. “I’m fine.” He doesn’t say anything to that, and when I look up, he’s watching me with sympathy on his face. “What?” I demand. “I’m fine.”
“It’s okay not to be fine you know,” he tells me, stepping aside as I walk past him and then trailing me to the door
My jaw clenches and I turn to him. “If you have something to say, Matty, just say it.”
He shrugs. “I’m just worried about you. You’ve been through a lot, and I just wanted you to know if you need to talk to someone, I’m here.”
“Then why have you been ignoring me for weeks?”
He shakes his head. “I haven’t.”
“You have.”
“No. I just haven’t approached you first for once.”
Huh. Have I really never initiated conversation with Matty? Have I always waited for him to come up to me first?
He indicates for me to move forward and we start walking down the main hallway, following the steady stream of kids that are leaving for the day. “Do you wanna go get some food and hang out for a bit?” he asks me gently. “We could talk. Or not. Whatever you want.”
“That’s okay.”
He pauses and I reluctantly stop to face him. “I’m worried about you, Izzy.” And the way he says it, with his voice all soft and gentle, I know he means it. “You need to talk to somebody, a friend.”
But is he my friend? And what would I say? I mean really? How do I even begin to sort out the mess that is my head these days?
“Thanks,” I tell him, and I really mean it. “But I have to go meet Rachel. She said she needs my help with something and she’s pretty hard to argue with.”
He snickers a bit at that. “Okay, but I’m here if you need me.” Then he swoops in without warning and gives me a quick hug before taking off down the hall and meeting up with Finn, who I hadn’t known was watching the conversation.
After that hug, I really do feel that little bit better.
Until I see Ethan approaching them with Evie in tow. She’s smiling wildly up at him and he laughs at something she said. Surely he’s not been taken in by that scene with the flowers?
“Izzy…you’re late!” I turn to see Rachel barrelling towards me, her hands full of papers and books, and she immediately distracts me from thoughts of Ethan. “Let’s go.” She starts off down the corridor and I have very little choice but to follow her up the stairs towards the maths block and into Mr. Evans’ classroom.
I look around in surprise to see Pippa, Paul, Evan, and a couple of other people from our calculus class sat at some desks. They look like they’re about to start a meeting.
“What’s going on?”
“Math club,” she states. Like that explains everything.
“Okay,” I say warily. “But why did you want me to meet you?”
She rolls her eyes like I’m stupid. “Because you’re joining. I’ve told you countless times that we’re a team member down and we have more competitions coming up.”
“Um—”
“Stop,” she interrupts me. “You’re the obvious choice. While it’s still debateable as to whether you’re actually better than me, you’re clearly very capable, and I’m willing to take you on despite your inexperience.”
I blink at her.
“So sit down then,” she tells me, waving her hands at me.
“But…I’m not joining the maths club, Rachel.”
She rolls her eyes. “It’s math club. We don’t use the ‘s’. Come on, you should know that by now.”
She is such hard work! “Fine. I’m not joining the math club, Rachel.”
She doesn’t even acknowledge that I’ve spoken.
“I mean it. You’ve asked me before and I said no, and it’s still a no.”
She lets out a sigh of irritation. “We really need an extra team member for next weekend. It’s important.”
I shake my head. “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to find someone else.”
Her jaw tenses and she turns to face me. “Just do it.”
I frown. I can’t believe how unreasonable she’s being. She’s ignoring everything I’ve ever said on the subject. “Look, I’m not—”
“If you don’t do it then we won’t advance to the next round,” she tells me testily, “and I am not going to let your selfish attitude ruin this for me.”
My jaw hangs open.
“Whoa.” Pippa jumps in, taking a step forwards. “Let’s just calm down, yeah? Maybe Sally Ferguson would do it?”
“I want Izzy,” Rachel snaps.
“Well I’m not doing it,” I bite back.
“Why not?” she demands. “We’re your friends, or at least the closest things you have to friends here, so why won’t your selfish ass help us out?”
“Hey, stop.” Paul jumps in whilst I stare at her in shock. Who does she think she’s talking to?
“Why?” she demands again. “Is it because math club isn’t cool enough? Because we’re not the popular kids?”
I scowl at her. “You know I don’t care about that.”
“Oh that’s right,” she mocks, “you’re so cool that it doesn’t matter who you’re seen with or what you do, right?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“And what else are you going to do next weekend? You could actually achieve something with us instead of drinking and doing God knows what else because you’re so intent on screwing up your life.”
My jaw hits the ground. “You are so out of line,” I tell her. “You have no idea about my life.”
“I know a lot more than you think I do,” she snaps right back. “I know you’re life isn’t anywhere near as bad as you seem to think it is, and no matter what you do at this school, you’re still untouchable.”
“What?!”
“Don’t you notice that people stare at you every time you walk down the hallway?”
“They do not.”
“They do and you know they do.”
I don’t say anything for a minute, but it becomes apparent she’s waiting for a response. “That’s just because of Ethan, because of his status around here.”
Her expression turns into a snarl and she shakes her head. “No. That’s part of it, because you’re Ethan Carlington’s twin and that makes you special because you must have that special magic he has, the spark that makes everyone love him. It’s partly because you’re British. You’re different, and that sets you apart. It’s partly because you’re a Carlington and people like that. They like the glamour and the money that’s associated with you and they want to be close to that elusive lifestyle we all strive for. And it’s partly because you’re smart, like ridiculously smart—as in, on the few occasions when you contribute in class and don’t think the lesson is completely beneath you, you can shut down every other student in class.”
All That's Been Said Page 6