All That's Left

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All That's Left Page 19

by Emma Doherty


  He has a point. My grandmother has always been harsher on Izzy than me. In the past she’s tried to mould her into a mini version of herself and can’t stand that Izzy is her own person with her own opinions and personality.

  “So maybe she was stressed over seeing them all and took it out on you.”

  “I don’t care.” That’s not true, but I am mad at her—really, really mad at her. “She’s acting like a spoilt brat, like she’s the only one who misses Mum. She’s been doing it since she got here and I’m sick of it.”

  “Ethan—”

  “I mean it. I’m sick of her. She won’t even talk to me about our mother. Every time I try to bring her up, she shuts down. It’s like she thinks I don’t have a right to even talk about her.”

  “Is she coming in today?”

  She ditched yesterday, and from what I could tell from her banging around in her room last night and the floor of her bedroom this morning when I passed her open door, she probably got drunk last night. “I don’t know.”

  He opens his mouth to say something else but Matty cuts him off as he steps away from his own conversation and turns to us. “Evie was looking for you after practice. She was hanging around outside.”

  I frown. I don’t have time to deal with Evie right now, and she seems to be getting needier and needier by the second.

  Finn sends me a pointed look. He’s not Evie’s biggest fan. He wasn’t when I first moved here and he’s not now five years later when I’m dating her.

  “Don’t,” I tell him. “Just don’t.”

  “Hey Ethan.” I turn at my name and see Ms. Joot, the school guidance counsellor, approaching from the entrance. I force myself not to scan her body as she approaches. I would definitely let her go all Mrs. Robinson on me. She stops in front of me, and I see Logan is suddenly a lot less interested in his own conversation with Deacon. They’re both blatantly checking her out from behind. “I’ve been meaning to catch up with you. Are you going to do the food drive for the homeless shelter again this year?”

  I nod. It’s something I’ve done ever since I was a freshman, and I usually drag the rest of the team into helping out too. “Yeah, I was thinking I’d start it in a couple of weeks?”

  “Wonderful.” She winks at me. “I’d do it myself but something tells me you boys will be a lot more persuasive than I can be. If you need help with it, let me know.” Then she turns and heads back into school.

  “Bro,” Logan starts.

  “I know.” He doesn’t even have to say it; I’m pretty sure we’re all thinking the same thing when it comes to Ms. Joot. I don’t care if she is nearly forty—she’s a total bombshell.

  “We should get to homeroom,” Logan says.

  I stand to follow him just because I don’t want to turn back to Finn and have him being reasonable with me right now. I need him to back me up and agree with me about Izzy and not hassle me about Evie, even if what he says has an element of truth in it.

  Finn stands too, even though he’s in a different homeroom to me and Logan, and we all start trooping towards the wide stairs that lead to the main entrance of the school.

  We’re only two steps up when Finn’s hand on my arm stops me. I turn to face him and he’s looking across the parking lot in the distance. My eyes follow him and I see Izzy stepping out of the car of that kid she rides in with. “You should talk to her.”

  I roll my eyes. Izzy has no interest whatsoever talking to me, and if we get into another fight before I even have my first class of the day, I’m going to explode.

  “Come on,” Finn encourages. “You’re just gonna be thinking about it all morning otherwise and getting angrier and angrier. Just clear the air.”

  I sigh. He’s probably right, but I’m sick of being the bigger person and always making an effort with her. When is she going to remember that I’m her twin brother and we only have each other left?

  I pause on the steps and tell Logan I’ll just be a minute. He mustn’t be in too much of a rush because he comes and stands next to me, and the rest of the guys pause too, carrying on their conversations.

  Izzy says something to Paul, and he nods and breaks away, hurrying towards the main entrance and joining the stream of kids filing inside past us.

  “What’s she doing?” Matty asks from his spot behind me.

  She reaches into her pocket, using one hand to answer a phone call and the other to fan at her face. She says something into the phone and then instead of heading inside, makes her way over to the entrance to the car lot, standing just off the sidewalk. She looks down the street, looking out for something as she pulls her hair off her neck and ties it up into a high ponytail, still fanning at her face.

  Logan starts to laugh. “She looks like she’s about to melt.”

  I snort. “She’s hungover.” She’s always hungover. A hangover in this heat is a nightmare from experience, but she does it so often I’m surprised she even gets side effects.

  She reaches into her bag and pulls out a cigarette, which she promptly lights.

  Gross. It’s disgusting that she smokes anyway, but before 7.30am?

  She wanders down the sidewalk slightly away from the students who are walking onto school grounds and away from any prying eyes of teachers who are on duty. She’s technically not doing anything wrong as she’s not on school property.

  I glance behind me and see most of my friends have their gazes fixed on her. They all seem to have this weird fascination with Izzy. I tell myself it’s because she’s different and someone new, but the reality is probably that most of them want to sleep with her, and I’d really rather not think about that or I’ll end up with no friends.

  I turn back to Izzy, and she’s moved farther down the street. She still looks flushed, and after a minute, she stops fanning her face, grabs the hem of her t-shirt, and starts wafting it up and down like she’s trying to generate some air flow against her skin. She must really be suffering today.

  She glances down the street again and finally steps forwards as a battered grey truck pulls up next to her. I take a step forwards as she leans into the window.

  Surely she’s not come all the way to school to ditch now?

  And who the hell is this guy? Has she really got another random guy she’s seeing? Marcus Bailey is bad enough.

  She speaks to the guy for barely a minute before straightening up and reaching into her handbag. She looks back towards the school entrance, making sure no one’s looking at her—seemingly oblivious that anyone looking from the school steps, windows, or from our general direction can see her—and pulls out a bunch of money. Even from here I can see the green bills being handed over, and she takes a small package in return.

  My jaw hangs open.

  “Did…did she…?” Matty looks like he can’t quite believe what he’s just seen.

  No. She wouldn’t. Surely…?

  Izzy turns around as the car drives off and she shoves the small packet into her bag.

  “Bro, did she just pick up before school?” Logan sounds both impressed and horrified. “Like literally ten meters from a bunch of teachers?”

  She is actually unbelievable.

  I have no words right now.

  “Does she know she’ll get expelled if she’s caught?” Deacon asks from behind me. “Like does she get that?”

  I answer honestly. “I don’t think she cares.” That’s the problem. Right now Izzy doesn’t care about anything.

  She starts walking towards the entrance, her eyes darting around and her hand still wafting her shirt up and down, trying to cool down and simultaneously flashing her stomach at anyone who cares to be watching. Coincidentally, it’s my horn-dog friends.

  I am so angry with her right now I could throttle her.

  It’s like she’s literally doing anything she can to screw up her life.

  The stream of students heading into school has thinned out as we should already be in homeroom, and the teachers on duty are starting to herd in the last of th
e kids getting out of their cars or arriving on foot.

  Izzy’s still not seen us as she nears the entrance. As she gets closer, I can see there are bags under her eyes and she looks more tired than I’ve seen her in a while. For a second, I feel sympathy for her. Maybe Finn is right and my dad’s visit and my grandparents took it out of her more than I realised, but then I wipe that feeling away and replace it with anger—anger at her being such a complete and utter train wreck.

  She finally reaches the bottom of the steps, still wafting her shirt, looking visibly uncomfortable in the heat, and looks up as she takes the first step.

  She halts as she sees me, and I know in that second that she knows I saw that, saw her take whatever that guy gave her. Then her eyes slide to my friends, who I’m sure are all staring at her and the slither of her stomach they can see.

  She smirks in their direction. “Tell your friends to take a picture, Ethan,” she says as she passes me. “It’ll last longer.”

  Deacon lets out a low whistle as their eyes follow her up the stairs.

  I almost hate her in this moment.

  Almost.

  “Don’t rise to it,” Finn mutters quietly from next to me, taking in my clenched fists. I could honestly go ten rounds with a punching bag right now. “Deal with it later when you’ve calmed down.”

  “That better just have been weed,” I start. I refuse to think she’s dumb enough to bring hard drugs onto school property. No amount of Dad’s money is going to stop her from getting expelled if that happens.

  “Bro,” Logan starts, looking after her. “I know your sister gives you a hard time and doesn’t give a crap about us, but is it wrong that it makes me want her even more?”

  There are general grunts of agreement from around him as Finn steps in front of Logan before I can take a swing for him.

  I’ve barely taken two steps onto school grounds when someone steps in front of me.

  “Logan told me you did his calculus homework for him.”

  I blink, taking a couple of seconds to recognise Rachel, Pippa’s friend from lunch, standing in front of me.

  “He said you completed it in like five minutes tops and that it was all correct.”

  “Good morning to you too,” I tell her, moving to step around her. I am so bloody hot. Why is it always so hot over here? I feel like I’m about to melt.

  She blocks my way. “Is it true?”

  I frown, using my hand to fan at my face. “I didn’t do his homework. It was just practice and then I tore it up.”

  “Well he fished it out of the garbage and pieced it back together. You got everything right. All of it.”

  “You know, you shouldn’t do Logan’s homework for him. He can do it himself. Don’t let him use you.”

  She smirks. “We have a mutually beneficial arrangement, actually. I wouldn’t let anyone use me.”

  I blink. That does sound about right—she doesn’t seem like she’d let anyone walk all over her—but I can’t help wondering what their agreement consists of.

  “You’re missing my point,” she adds. “You got all the equations right.”

  “Okay?” I’m really not sure what she’s wanting me to say here.

  She just stares at me like it should be obvious what she’s implying, but I honestly don’t have a clue.

  “Well, I need to go,” I say, stepping around her.

  Again she moves in front of me. “Look, I admit I might have misjudged you. You’re in AP calculus with me but you never say a word in class. Forgive me for thinking you didn’t have the brains to handle the material.”

  Wow. “I didn’t actually know that, but thanks.”

  “Yes, well, I’d like to give you a test.”

  I blink at her. “A test?”

  “Yes, a test,” she tells me impatiently. “To see if it was just a fluke or if you really are gifted at math.”

  My jaw falls open. “Are you kidding me?”

  She scowls. “No, indeed I am not ‘kidding’ you.” She places her hands on her hips. “If you pass the test, I’ll let you join the math club. Obviously you’ll just be one of the supporting members and not one of our stars, but I think we can work with you.”

  “Okay, Rachel, is it?” She nods. “That is not the way you behave when you want someone to do something for you.”

  She looks surprised. “I was merely telling you what I wanted with you.”

  “Well now I’m telling you: I do not want to join the math club. Thank you for your interest, but no.”

  She looks at me like I’ve just told her I don’t want a million pounds and then throws her hands in the air, says I’m ungrateful and will regret this, and then storms off, leaving me with very little hope that my day is going to get any better with this as the start of it.

  Kristen: Really? You’re just not going to reply to me now? You’re not going to tell me how you are?

  I swallow down any emotion I feel at Kristen’s message and swipe it away. It’s followed up by another one. That coupled with my hangover means all I want to do is go home, crack into the bag of weed I picked up this morning, and crawl into bed. I’m pretty sure I’m not going to make it to any more classes today.

  Kristen: It’s not the same here without you.

  I stand abruptly from the lunch table. “I’m going to get some water,” I tell no one in particular and head towards the water dispenser near the entrance of the room with my water bottle.

  I’m still thinking about Kristen as I press the button and wait for the water to fill up. I’m so lost in my thoughts that I don’t even realise my bottle is full until it starts overflowing. I quickly pull it away and step back—straight into a hard body.

  Finn.

  I whirl away from him instantly, splashing water down myself but not caring as I put some distance between us.

  I only took one step back, so I shouldn’t have bumped into him. He was standing way closer than was strictly necessary.

  Finn smirks down at the water splashed across my t-shirt. “Make you jump?”

  “I didn’t see you.”

  “Just like you didn’t see us this morning when you were buying right outside the school grounds.”

  Yeah, they definitely saw that. I was definitely not being as subtle as I thought I was. “That’s none of your business.”

  He shrugs. “Ethan’s my business, and you’re his.”

  “Yeah, well, Ethan can stay out of my business too.”

  “What’s the deal with you and Marcus Bailey?”

  I blink in surprise. He’s so straightforward and to the point. I’m not used to it. “Again, that’s none of your business.”

  “You guys had a thing going?”

  “Define a ‘thing’?”

  He stares at me for a couple of seconds. “Whatever your ‘thing’ is looked like it was over on Saturday.”

  “Really? It looked like that when I was driving away in his truck?” I know any romantic situation between us is definitely over, that much is clear, but I don’t need to explain that to Finn. He’ll just go back to Ethan and tell him, and I’m still pissed off at him for telling Marcus the truth about my age. He could have lost me the closest thing I have to a friend here.

  “I know Marcus from way back. He won’t go near you now he knows you’re in high school.”

  My jaw tightens. “Well you seem to know a lot, Finn.”

  I screw the lid on my bottle and step to go around him, but he shifts in front of me. “I know your dad was here this weekend.” My whole body tenses just at the mention of my father. I hated that he was around all weekend, even though it was only two nights. I just felt his discontent with me every time he came within five meters of me. I never realised how draining it is to feel that all the time. “Don’t let your dad’s behaviour mess with you. Don’t react to him and mess things up for yourself.”

  “What?”

  “Just because your dad showed up and made you feel like crap doesn’t mean it’s a good idea for
you to drink more and buy drugs right outside school.”

  Is that what I’m doing? Letting my relationship with my dad make me do things even stupider than usual?

  “Are you okay?” he asks with a look so intense I have to look away. I can’t look at him when he’s staring at me like that. He’s too good-looking. Too intense. Too overwhelming. “Are you okay, Izzy?” he repeats. He steps in closer to me and drops his voice low so it feels like it’s only the two of us here in the cafeteria. “I’m here if you need to talk to someone, about anything.”

  It takes a second for me to react. For some stupid reason, I find it hard to concentrate when he’s standing this close to me. “I’m fine,” I mutter.

  I am fine. I always am.

  “Yeah,” he says softly, coming that little bit closer to me, and I can’t help it—my eyes drift back to his. “You are.”

  My heart slams in my throat and I wait for him to burst out laughing or brush it off, but he doesn’t. He just gives me a lopsided grin, not breaking eye contact.

  Did Finn just say I’m fine? Like he thinks I’m good-looking?

  “Um…um…” I’m so shocked by what he said, or what I think he said, that I can’t even speak. Have I just entered a parallel universe? Finn doesn’t like me. He doesn’t like the way I treat Ethan and the way I behave. He doesn’t like me…right? I clear my throat. “You can go,” I say, indicating the water dispenser behind me.

  He holds his hands up, and for the first time, I realise he doesn’t have a bottle in his hands. “I don’t need water.”

  “You don’t?”

  “No.” A small smirk covers his face, and I swear it makes my stomach flip. “I just wanted to talk to you. Wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

  My jaw drops as he sends me a wink and then turns to go back to his table. My eyes follow him as he pauses to chat to a couple of girls who have stopped him on his way back. He laughs at something they say and they stare greedily at him.

  I don’t get him. I don’t get him at all.

  I mean how can one person be so confident? But then I take in his appearance and appreciate just how good-looking he is and get my answer. How could Finn not be confident?

 

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