Nothing, really.
Certainly not something anyone should think about every minute of every day. Refreshing his online profiles. Again and again and again.
I stare out across the edge of the clearing. There’s an icy silence, which lets my horrible thoughts ring out loud.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid—
There’s a muffled scream.
I blink. What?
It was faint, barely a whisper. But I heard it. It was definitely a scream.
Am I going mad?
But then I hear a man’s voice, strangled against the wind.
Ren?!
Without thinking about what my feet are doing, I run towards them.
CHAPTER 47
Chloe
I’ve managed to tease some conversation out of Sven. Just general things, like where he works out, what he’s doing at college. As we talk, he seems to become more fidgety. He keeps moving his arms beneath his baggy jumper, and he’s so . . . tense. Every few steps, he’ll flick an imaginary bit of fluff off his jumper or jolt his shoulder unexpectedly.
As we’re walking along, I have a flashback to us texting late at night right at the start. How intimate it felt. How much I felt like I knew him. His bronzed face is fixated on the ground now. An uneasy feeling creeps into my stomach.
How much did I really know him?
Why did I stay up all night messaging a complete stranger like that?
But the more we talk, the more unsure I am that Sven is the one behind everything that’s been happening. He just seems so shy. He doesn’t seem like the type to hack into my school emails, send false messages to Louise. And besides, he wouldn’t have even had those photos.
I glance up. His slut comments flashing before my eyes.
Is he really the one behind all of this?
I just . . . can’t picture it.
I laugh at something Sven says to try to relax him. His whole face lights up. I half-smile back.
This whole situation feels like a very young, very awkward first date.
‘It’s strange meeting someone you’ve only spoken to in person for the first time, don’t you think,’ I say, smiling. With each step, my nerves are beginning to melt away. This guy isn’t dangerous. He’s more nervous than me by a mile.
The problem is, I still can’t get anywhere near his phone. He’s been holding on to it ever since we met and glances at it every few seconds. There’s no way he’s going to put it down without realizing. How can I find out for sure whether he’s the one behind the messages? I need evidence.
We find a place to sit on a grassy slope, and Sven leans his arms forward, resting them against his parted knees. I curl my legs up underneath me and turn towards him.
‘It’s really nice to have finally met you,’ I say, and I look directly into his eye.
He blushes and his eyes dart either side of me. ‘Yeah. I mean – yeah, it’s nice.’ He clears his throat. ‘You look, y’know, really good.’ His eyes sweep over the curve of my chest.
I try to smile back, but a thought is forming in my mind. A memory so vivid, it stings: me pouring my heart out to him about what happened with J. The fear I felt when he didn’t reply. The message: WHORE.
I glance down at my phone. I definitely saw him type the texts to me earlier. I know this is his correct number. He’s the one who sent those messages.
I might not know if he hacked my life, but I know one thing: he’s the guy who called me a whore.
He’s talking to me now – in stuttered tones – about some workout he does at the gym. I nod, trying to pay attention, but inside me, there’s a burning sensation kindling, rising up through my veins.
Slut. Whore.
The unfairness of the last few weeks comes crashing over me like a tidal wave. The shame put on me by him, the guy from the party, and even my friends.
Interrupting our conversation, I give a loud snort.
Sven stops taking mid-sentence. ‘Are you OK?’ he says, holding my gaze.
‘Yeah, yeah – I’m fine.’
‘OK,’ he says, and he starts talking again.
I hold up my hand. ‘Actually, you know what? I don’t think I am OK.’
I look him square in the eye, and he blinks several times.
‘Why did – before, when we were texting, and I told you about that guy – why did you call me a slut?’
Sven’s eyes widen, but then he looks away.
‘I already apologized for that,’ he says, his tone a touch defensive. His bottom lip curls at the corner.
‘Yeah, I know. But I don’t get why you said it in the first place. When a girl tells you someone assaulted her, why is your first response to make it her fault?’
Sven looks up to the sky, then glances back at my legs. ‘I said sorry.’
There’s an edge to his quiet voice now. And no stutter. But I press on.
‘And this weird thing happened. When my, um, phone deleted you, my friend Louise showed me these strange messages I’d never sent. Between me and this guy she was seeing.’
Sven looks at me sharply.
‘The thing is I’ve never even spoken to this guy. The messages were completely made up.’
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see his teeth grit.
‘Don’t you think that’s weird?’ I say, my voice rising higher.
He clears his throat. ‘Yeah, I guess.’
I can’t stop myself from talking. ‘And at school everyone got sent Louise’s private photos. From my email address, though I don’t remember sending them.’ I stare right at him. ‘It’s been really, actually, weird.’
Sven isn’t looking at me any more. He’s looking straight down in between his clasped-together arms, his eyes running along the floor. His face twitches – and I can just about make out the muscles of his jaw clenching and unclenching.
‘Do you have anything to say about that?’
He looks up, his face set. Suddenly his tense cheeks slacken – and he speaks so quietly, it’s almost a whisper.
‘Why did you bring me here, Chloe?’
CHAPTER 48
Chloe
Sven’s words whistle across the empty clearing, the sun gently filtering through the leaves of the trees either side of us.
‘Why did I bring you here?’ I repeat, confused.
I don’t know how to answer. Whether I should pretend to keep flirting with him, or if the charade is really up.
Sven’s eyes flash. ‘Why did you bring me here when you have a boyfriend.’ He almost spits the last word out, and for the first time, I see venom in his trembling face.
‘A boyfriend?’
I keep thinking about all the things I planned to say – that Tom was my cousin, or a friend – but all the pretence is draining out of me.
This guy has made my life a misery. I deserve to know why.
I suck in my breath. ‘So what if I have a boyfriend? I can speak to other guys. I can meet up with other guys. His name is Tom Taylor, by the way – but I’m guessing you already knew that!’
My lip curls as I look at him. I can’t believe this is the guy I confided in. The person I messaged almost every minute of every day for a while. The person I kept secret from Tom.
How could I have been so stupid?
‘Aaaargh!’ Sven suddenly, violently, clutches the sides of his head. ‘I knew it, you bitch! I knew you had a boyfriend.’
His eyes are directly on me now. Intense. Red.
My heart starts to beat wildly.
‘I never said I didn’t have a boyfriend!’ I feel my body shrinking away from him.
‘But you messaged me! You got with that guy at the party. You might as well have got with Jerome!’
It’s like my veins have been plunged into ice.
‘I didn’t say the messages at school were about someone called Jerome.’
There’s a beat of silence. My mind starts working in over-drive. There were tagged Instagram photos of me and Louise together that night. Ther
e were comments between Jerome and Louise underneath the pictures. On Tom’s friends’ accounts there were pictures of them both, videos and stories of us all from the party.
Did he guess from all that?
Sven looks straight at me, and I suddenly feel very, very scared.
‘I should never have apologized,’ he spits. ‘You know exactly what type of girl you are. Exactly.’
I can feel my whole body fold up into itself. He seems wild with fury.
‘You would never bother with a guy like me! I’m a nice guy – I messaged you every day! I never kept you waiting or treated you like crap—’
He leans forwards and grabs me by the shoulders with both hands. I let out a tiny scream, but then look around. There’s no one here – we’re flanked by trees either side. No one can hear or see me.
Oh God. Why didn’t I tell anyone what I was doing? What’s going to happen?
Can I talk him round, somehow? Oh God. Fuck.
What have I done?!
Sven is still speaking, screaming in my face. ‘You message me constantly! You lead me on with those photographs on Instagram! Well you don’t get to do that. You don’t get to behave like a complete slut and get away with it.’
He’s shouting loudly now, his voice shaking. He grips my shoulders, pinning my arms either side of my body. I can feel the pressure of his hot grip, pushing me down on the grass.
I squirm, but this only seems to make him angrier.
‘It’s not fair! It’s just not fair!’ he shouts.
I’m shaking all over. I can feel tears springing from my eyes, but I can’t control them.
OhGodOhGodOhGod.
‘I’m sorry,’ I choke, trying to make him stop. ‘I shouldn’t have invited you here.’
‘YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE BLOCKED ME IN THE FIRST PLACE!’ His voice echoes down the park. ‘I gave you everything! Any time of day, I was there for you! What more could you possibly want?’
His nails are digging into my bones. I can feel the force behind his arms – the strength hidden by his baggy jumper. My heart is drumming frantically in my chest – my breath coming in short, desperate bursts.
‘GET OFF HER!’ Suddenly there’s a high-pitched cry from someone nearby.
Oh, thank God. Thank God. Thank God!
Sven looks up, and all of a sudden, a log comes crashing down behind him.
CHAPTER 49
Amber
They can’t see me, but I can see them. Over the top of the clearing, there are two figures, kneeling down in an embrace.
But wait – it’s not an embrace.
I step forward and see Chloe’s eyes, big and wide. Ren is clutching her shoulders, his hands pinning her arms to her side.
She looks tiny. Not tiny like thin, beautiful. Tiny like frail. Like a breakable doll.
‘I’m sorry!’ I see her mouth against the rattle of the wind.
It feels like everything is happening in slow motion.
I see the real Ren for the first time. Him following Maisie home after they’ve been on a few dates. Her terrified face when he won’t leave. I see him being forceful with Jemma after their night out, pushing her to go further. Him pinning Iulia to the ground. I can feel his fingers on them, his skin-crawling touch like nails against a chalkboard.
His face is changing. His beautiful eyes are flashing with anger, and it’s almost like his pretty features are being rearranged before my eyes. I feel a jolt of repulsion.
He was guilty.
I was wrong.
Ren starts screaming in Chloe’s face. His mouth twisted in a horrible grimace. His arms, with deep muscles bulging out of them, don’t look strong; they look weak.
He looks ugly.
Chloe, too, looks different. Usually she’s the most animated person in the room, but here, her eyes are wide. Her body is tiny and crumpled like a child’s.
My heart starts to beat. Really, really fast.
I feel a twist of disdain in the pit of my stomach. I feel a fury building like when Seb and I used to have screaming matches as little children. A wild, uncontrollable anger.
He can’t do this.
And I won’t let him. Not again. Not to another girl.
Without thinking what my feet are doing, I run forward. Neither of them sees me. Chloe has lowered her gaze to the ground, and Ren is looking straight at her.
‘YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE BLOCKED ME IN THE FIRST PLACE!’
Ren is screaming now. He looks crazed, his eyes red, sweat dripping down his face.
The blood is thumping through my veins. A flashback to childhood. Playfighting with Seb. He was always bigger than me, but that didn’t mean he always won.
When he pinned me down, what did I do? How did I stop him?
My mind is whirring as I look round the park for something, anything. I grab a log. Heavier than I was expecting. Then, with a heave, I lift it up above me. Not above his head or neck, that would be mad. But high above his shoulders.
Something makes me stop. Maybe I won’t have to. Maybe he’ll just stop.
Maybe he won’t . . .
But I need to be sure. In my left hand, I unlock my phone, swipe open the video camera and click record.
‘GET OFF HER!’ I shout, and Chloe’s eyes lift up to mine in shock.
Ren doesn’t drop her. I see his grip tighten on her arms, his nails biting deep into her skin. He looks up, and his eyes don’t even seem to flicker with acknowledgement.
‘Get the fuck away from us!’ he shouts, rocking Chloe’s whole body with his fists.
My stomach twists as I throw the log as hard as I can, down onto the ground.
CHAPTER 50
Amber
I’m standing over Ren, my chest rising and falling, sweat dripping off my nose. I look down at him. He hasn’t moved.
‘Get off her!’ I shout again, and I’m surprised by how strongly my voice carries across the field.
Ren keeps hold of Chloe. Why won’t he let her go?
I heave up the log over my shoulder again, ready to slam it down to the ground beside them.
‘What the hell are you doing, you psycho?!’ shrieks Ren, leaping up.
He steps forward aggressively, and his eyes snap on me. He’s so close, I can see every freckle, line and vein on his face. My heart starts to beat, fast.
I have spent hours looking at his face every day, several times a day.
But he doesn’t look how he looked online. He looks better, but also worse. Behind his eyes, I can see the flash of fury. I’m seeing Ren, but not my Ren. Not the one I created in my head.
The Ren that never existed.
‘It’s you!’ His mouth twists with disgust. ‘Weird girl from the gym.’
My heart stops.
Weird girl from the gym?
Even though I know my Ren wasn’t real, even though I know everything I thought about him was wrong, the phrase still makes my eyes widen.
‘Weird?’ I say quietly.
‘You just almost hit me with a fucking log!’ he spits, and Chloe shrinks away from him.
But I don’t shrink away. He’s twice my size and has muscles bulging out of his shirt, but I don’t feel scared; I feel furious. Absolutely fucking furious.
I can’t believe that someone can behave like this. That someone can be so entitled that he thinks he can just take what he wants. That someone can act nice to me when he’s actually awful. That he calls me ‘weird’ and ‘psycho’ just because I stopped him behaving like a monster.
‘And you think that’s worse?’
Ren steps forward. ‘What the—’
‘You think me throwing a log is worse than what you did to those girls? What you did to Chloe?’
Ren scoffs. ‘I didn’t do anything to her. She’s the one leading guys on, posting selfies, flirting with everyone. She’s a fucking—’
‘Why can’t she do that?’ I say.
I rise to my full height and puff out my chest.
‘What’s wrong with fl
irting? What’s wrong with wanting attention? It’s harmless. She’s not hurting anyone . . .’
‘It’s disgusting!’ he shouts.
Chloe has stood up now and is next to me, standing very close. I can feel the warmth of her body beside me, and it emboldens me.
‘Why? You do it.’
‘What?!’ he says, turning on me.
‘You flirt with girls, at the gym. You lead them on,’ I say, louder than I was expecting.
Ren laughs. ‘Oh, for God’s sake. That’s not the same.’
‘Just leave,’ says Chloe, all of a sudden.
Her voice is so quiet, it’s almost a whisper. I’ve never heard her speak like that.
Ren swivels to face her, and I feel her arm tense up next to mine.
‘You’re pathetic. You’re a slut. You don’t deserve someone who’s going to treat you well. You deserve—’
‘JUST GO!’ I shout, the volume of my voice surprising even me. I step in front of Chloe so he can’t get to her. ‘Leave us! NOW!’
Ren’s eyes glance at the log in my right arm and my phone in my left. ‘You’re pathetic,’ he says.
But it’s an empty insult. I can see in his eye, he’s beat.
‘So what if I am?’ I step forward.
Ren glares at me and then snorts. ‘No guy would like you, anyway. You’re absolutely disgusting. Both of you.’
‘Yeah, right. Tell that to the police.’
My voice is high and artificially cheery. I step forward, and Ren takes a step back, glaring at me.
‘Run away, then. Bye!’ I’m shouting after him as he walks away. I don’t stop shouting, I keep walking forward, my arm with my phone outstretched, recording. He spits on the floor and rolls his eyes.
Blood is pumping through my veins. As I watch him slope off, I can almost physically feel the weight of all those hours melt away. Hours spent looking at his social media, creating the perfect man in my mind, imagining someone that never was.
It feels like everything has evaporated apart from the earth I’m standing on. But what’s left, the bit that I can actually feel, is solid.
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