by Esme Devlin
I think for a moment. Stevie didn’t lie to me or try to cover up the way she feels about Calvin, so why am I thinking about the best way to lie to her?
“I do hate him.” I tell her. That bit isn’t actually a lie. “If Calvin is a class A prick, then how would you even begin to describe Shaun?”
“Evil incarnate,” she says with a wink.
I can’t help laughing at her. “He basically manipulated me by threatening to drag me out over his shoulder. And when that didn’t work, he then threatened not to leave. I still don’t know which one would have been worse. So I went with him.” I explain.
She nods, taking it all in. “And now Calvin thinks he likes you? That’s not how you treat someone you like.”
“Exactly. He says that’s just the way Shaun is. Like it or lump it, basically.” I take another drink and then swirl my finger around the rim of the cup, not really sure how to say the next part. “So… now I’ve agreed to go on a date with him.”
“Jesus, Lacey. Are you insane?” she says.
“Probably.”
“You can’t go alone. Not a chance. Like, he will eat you alive. Tell him it’s a double date and I’ll tag along too, make sure he doesn’t strap you down in the back of his car and…” she cuts off and I flush bright red.
She’s correct, I am fucking insane. I’ve lost all ability to rationalize. To reason with myself. Logic has left my brain, and in its place lies idiocy and foolishness. This is a boy who set out with the sole objective of ruining me. He wanted to see me suffer. Hell, I think he gets some weird kick out of making me squirm. And I’m going on a date with him.
Even an idiot could work out Shaun is not a nice guy. He’s not a good guy. Assault charges. Failed drug tests. A powerful family. A sexual assault. Vandalizing my house. Humiliating me with that photo. Tormenting me at every single interaction.
So why am I so drawn to him? Why do I think about him all the time?
Maybe I’m a sadist and I enjoy inflicting pain on myself. Maybe I want to feel something, even if that’s hurt.
No.
Maybe I see something good in him.
There must be something good in him, even if he doesn’t show it. Last night, he shut Rosheen down quicker than a speeding arrow. He was tender with his sister, even if his words were firm. He stopped the kiss before it went too far as soon as I asked him to, even though I could see in his eyes how much he wanted to continue.
“No, I think you’re right. I promised him a single date, so I’ll give him one. But you should definitely be there.”
Stevie nods. “I don’t trust him.”
“Neither do I,” I agree.
❖
School rolls around on Thursday and I have even less of a clue about what I’m walking into than I did on Monday.
I park up, and as I walk across the car park, I remember my game plan from a week ago. Keep my head down and survive the last year of school. Study hard, get good grades, and go off to university somewhere far away from my father. I feel like I’m not playing the game to the best of my ability. I’m bunking off school, and when I’m here, I’m distracted. I’ve been to two parties in the space of a week. I’ve kissed two boys, in the space of a week.
I never knew this much could happen in the space of a week.
I get to my locker and the door is back on. So he definitely wasn’t joking then, he did put it right. Yesterday, I went outside to speak to the painters and confirmed my suspicions — it was a Mr Keagan who hired them.
He’ll probably expect a medal or something for being so damn nice to me. He’ll twist it around so that if I’m not sufficiently gushing over his kind and generous actions, I’ll be spoilt, ungrateful, unreasonable. But he’s not being generous. I don’t feel grateful or indebted to him. He’s merely putting right all the things he should never have done in the first place.
And he can’t take the video back. He can’t make everyone forget. So as far as I’m concerned, he’s still not in my favor. I still don’t forgive him.
And I’m certainly not being unreasonable.
I open my locker and find a note attached to a single red rose. Expecting some Spanish expletive, I open it and read it.
“Tha thu breagha X”
I fold the note up and open my phone, setting the translator to detect the language before I type in the words.
Scottish-Gaelic.
You are beautiful.
How original.
I pull out my English textbook and put the rest of them away, before heading to Mrs Hunters class. I remember last week, walking here with Liam. If someone had told me then what I know now, I’d probably have turned around and walked straight back out the door. I’d have demanded my father leave, and if that wasn’t possible then boarding school in Glasgow, or Edinburgh, would have been the only thing on the agenda over dinner that night.
But you don’t know what you don’t know.
And I guess, you don’t know how strong you are until something happens to make you realize it. Until someone turns your world upside down and forces you to react.
That’s what I’ve been doing for the last week — reacting. That needs to change. Calvin's words cross my mind again… I need to find a way to have power over him. I need to stop reacting. I need to start fighting.
I enter Mrs Hunter’s class and only then do I notice that no one has slut coughed me. No one has whispered or sniggered behind my back. Shaun is powerful, and he seems to be on the back foot, playing nicely for once. If what Calvin said was true, if he actually does like me, then he shouldn’t have been so fucking stupid. Because I do hate him. And he’s underestimated me.
❖
I meet Stevie for lunch in the central hallway and we grab lunch from the canteen. I go for a sausage roll and she gets herself a tray of fries before heading to the wall.
I’m deep in conversation with her and not paying attention to where we’re going when she stops me in my tracks and nods her head in the direction of the wall.
“Liam?” I say, looking at the two boys already sitting on the wall, their backs facing us. His golden head is instantly recognizable. Liam and Brad.
“Come on, let’s go to the canteen,” she says with a shrug.
“Eh… let’s go to the toilets!” I suggest, forcefully.
She looks at me like I’ve suggested we go to the moon. “Shut up. You’re not serious?”
“Shaun will be in the canteen?” I argue.
“And? He’s clearly not going to bother you anymore. And if he is, he’s not going to do it in the canteen, is he?” she says.
I know I’m being a pussy. I know I promised myself I wasn’t going to just react to what he throws at me anymore.
I shrug at Stevie. “You win.”
We get to the canteen and I do a quick scan of the room before sitting down at an empty table. I can’t see him in here… maybe they go out for lunch? I just assumed they would sit here, but I could be wrong. I start to relax as I rip my sausage roll into little bite-sized pieces.
“Guess what I found in my locker?” I say to Stevie.
She raises her eyebrows. “A voodoo doll with pins in it?”
I laugh at her, mouth closed while I chew, and shake my head. “A rose with a note on it.”
“Death threat or declaration of love?” she asks, stabbing a fry with her plastic fork and dipping it into a huge pool of brown sauce.
“Neither,” I shrug. “It was like Gaelic words for ‘you are beautiful’.”
She chuckles, covering her mouth with her hand. “Fuck's sake he’s smooth. Tha thu breagha?”
“That’s the one,” I tell her.
“A true poet,” she says sarcastically, “are you impressed?”
I roll my eyes at her. “Would you be?”
She shrugs. “Shaun Keagan is a ride, no two ways about it. Would I actually fall for him, though? Not a fucking chance.”
I’m about to reply when I see her face change as she catches on to
something going on behind me.
“Don’t turn around,” she tells me under her breath.
I’m trying really hard to listen to her. When someone says “don’t look” it’s like genuinely the hardest thing in the world not to look. But I try to trust her advice. I give her my best WTF face.
“Incoming ride,” she says under her breath and looks down at her fries.
A moment later, the chair beside me squeaks on the linoleum floor as someone pulls it out. I look up, and two dark eyes stare down at me. A smirk. A smell of wood and vanilla. An electric tension that fills the air.
Must be Shaun.
He sits himself down right next to me.
“Ladies,” he says. A second later, the rest of them fill the empty seats. “Hope we’re not intruding on your cosy little lunch date.”
“Actually, you are,” I tell him.
Shaun shrugs. “Couldn’t keep away.”
“You should try harder.”
“Mo chridhe,” he puts his hands to his chest and gives me the puppy dog eyes. “You cut me deep. I am trying hard.”
I turn to Stevie. “What’s this prick saying?” I ask her, nodding my head sideways at Shaun.
She laughs, along with the rest of them, and then her face turns sad, imitating Shaun’s. She puts her hands to her chest, the way he did and says “My heart,” and then laughs, turning to Shaun. “Your patter is pitiful.”
“Aye, well it was better when she couldn’t understand it.” he shrugs and takes a huge bite of his burger, his elbows sticking out and getting right up in my personal space.
“God loves a trier,” Tony cuts in.
“Did you want something?” Stevie asks, looking around the group.
“Just lunch with some beautiful ladies,” Calvin says. “We never see you in here, it’s like the lunch bell goes and you both bail.”
“We like our own company.” Stevie replies.
“But not today?” Shaun says, looking at me.
I shrug. “Our usual spot was taken.”
“And you didn't scare them off? I thought you both had more backbone than that.” Calvin replies, turning to Stevie. “Especially you.”
Stevie stabs a french-fry and pops it in her mouth, rolling her eyes. “It was Liam. I try to avoid him.”
“Pity you couldn't have encouraged your little friend here to do similar,” Shaun cuts in.
“I did,” Stevie replies, “she just has an uncanny ability to not take advice and do what she wants anyway.”
Shaun narrows his eyes at her and then laughs and goes back to eating his burger.
The boys start chatting and joking easily amongst themselves. I learn they’re actually not awful. Well, Tony and Scoot and Doeboy, that is. Doeboy is really hilarious, and seems to be a constant source of laughter between them all. I can't make my mind up about Calvin. On one hand, the way he acted on Tuesday night after the party suggests he cares about Stevie, at least to a degree. But, I don't know enough about him to make up my mind. He could have spiked her himself, for all I know.
“Did you do that essay for big Janice?” Tony asks Scoot.
“Did I fuck her on Sunday on the roof of the church?”
Tony starts laughing. “She’s going to grind your balls into paste and use it on the white board.”
“She’s going to fuck you, up the arse, with a rusty fork, on days ending in Y.” Doeboy adds, laughing.
“I bet she’s into that shit as well, wouldn't fucking surprise me,” Tony tells him.
“You lot are genuinely revolting,” Stevie scowls, closing the lid on her box of fries and pushing it away dramatically.
Calvin slides the box over to him, opens it up, and starts eating what Stevie left. “Pass that right over to me, pet.” Catching her WTF look, he shrugs. “I’m a growing laddie! And there’s bairns starving the world over — you shouldn’t waste food.”
I shake my head at him and chuckle.
A moment later, Stevie, Calvin, and Scoot — who are all sitting opposite me — look up. When I realize something is happening, I turn around and see Liam staring down at me.
“Lace,” he greets me, his tone warm and a smile on his face.
“Liam.” I don't smile back.
“I see you’re keeping different company now, since we last spoke?”
I glance nervously to Shaun, who pushes his chair out and stands up. Liam is tall, but Shaun is taller. Where Liam has the build of a soccer player, lean and toned, Shaun has that of a boxer. He has a sturdy weight behind him that can't possibly be created in a gym. I wouldn't fancy Liam's chances if the pair ever happened to clash fists.
“Have you got something to say, Liam?” Shaun asks.
“I think you’ll find I was talking to Lacey,” Liam bites back.
“I think you’ll find, Lacey doesn't want to talk to you.”
“Oh, because you decided that? I let you walk all over me before, but I’m not doing it again. She’s better than you. She deserves more.”
“Why don't you let Lacey decide what she deserves?” Shaun suggests.
“Oh, like you did? You might think she’s falling for your bullshit act, but I see right through it,” Liam says, shaking his head.
“Well, you can carry on seeing through it somewhere else.” Shaun shuffles his hands as if he’s swatting a fly. “See ya later, Liam.”
Right on cue, the sound of the bell reverberates through the dining hall, and I watch Liam’s jaw clench. He turns away from Shaun and looks at me. It’s not a smile, but it’s not angry either. His look is something akin to how a disappointed father might look at you when you tell him you’re failing all of your classes. “I thought you were smarter than this, Lace.”
He turns around and walks away and I swallow down the lump in my throat. I glance up at Shaun who's still standing. He puts his hand on the back of his neck and shifts his head to the side as if he’s cracking it. Then he too walks away, without a backwards glance at me, and I’m left wondering if Liam might be right.
I am smarter than this.
❖
I arrive home to the sight of a freshly painted house. It was already pristine when my father bought the place, so he shouldn't even notice that it’s been repainted.
Hopefully.
I’m about to find out, because his Discovery Sport sits on the driveway. He’s home.
I come in and dump my school bag on the floor, stacking my thick pile of books on the side table. I go in to the kitchen and see my dad sitting at the kitchen counter, deep in concentration and staring at his laptop.
Opening the fridge, I pull out a carton of orange juice and place it on the counter along with a glass. He’s facing my direction, but he doesn't even look up.
“Hi Dad,” I say.
A quick glance at me and his eyes are fixed on his laptop again, where he starts typing. “Hi honey,” he mumbles.
“Good trip?” I ask him, taking a gulp of the orange juice and sticking it back in the fridge.
“You know how these things are,” he replies absentmindedly. I grab my glass and go to leave the kitchen, but just as I reach the door he calls me back. “Before I forget, keep Sunday free.”
“Sunday? I don't have anything planned. Why?”
“Well, I have a meeting tonight and then I’m back in Norway for a couple of days. There's a dinner I need to attend on Sunday, it’s business but I thought you could come with me? Some quality time, you know?”
Quality time. Fabulous. I have to fight myself to refrain from rolling my eyes, not that he’d even notice. “Sure, Dad,” I say, before heading up the stairs to my bedroom. A business dinner. I shouldn't be surprised, he’s always been like this. At boarding school I hardly noticed, but now I’m home it would be nice to have an actual parent from time to time.
I put my phone on the docking station and stick on the “hot right now” iTunes playlist for some background noise. I have a maths test that’s due in tomorrow, and since the curriculum is a totall
y different set up here from what I’m used to, I want to get a solid couple of hours studying done tonight.
I change out of my school clothes and put on a comfy pair of leggings, shove my hair up in a messy bun and sit down at my desk to get cracking with the maths revision. I don't even get ten minutes into it when the music temporarily quietens and I hear the buzz of my phone vibrating twice.
I fight the urge to go and see what the message says. I don't need distractions, I need to pass this test.
Fuck it. I’m weak.
I pull my phone off the dock and see Shaun Keagan’s name on my home screen.
“Don't listen to Liam, he’s a dick.”
Well, he would say that wouldn't he? Though from where I’m standing, Liam isn't the one acting like a dick. Except for basically cutting all contact with me after Friday. That was a dick move, under normal circumstances. But he kinda explained why he did that today. He was scared of what Shaun would do, and I can sympathize with that.
“He’s just looking out for me. Maybe he has good reason…”
My eyes are glued to my phone while I wait for his reply. Almost instantly I see the three dots wiggling at the bottom of the screen, signifying that he’s typing.
“He wants you.”
“Who wouldn't.” I do the little emoji of the girl in the purple T-shirt shrugging. I like a sprinkling of emojis now and again.
He's already typing.
“Good point. But remember our deal. You’re mine.”
“That was NOT part of the deal.”
“I make the rules. You follow them like a good little princess.” Blonde princess emoji, followed by the hand that could be a wave, but equally could be a slap.
“You're going to get a shock when you realize I’m not going to do what you say…” Eye-roll emoji. One of my favorites.
“A shock? Or an erection?” Big long purple aubergine. How mature. I laugh anyway.
As much as I’d love to sit on my bed and receive defenseless vegetables all night from Shaun, I really, really need to study for this test. “Enjoy yourself with that! Bye.”