Chapter 2: Spearcrest Knight: Part 1 – Chapter 2

me, burning like a brand for hours. It’s not even like it’s the first cruel thing he’s said to me—it’s just that my thick skin always softens over the holidays, leaving me weak and exposed to his barbs.

The first blow of the year is always the hardest to take, but I’ll toughen quickly.

Because only the tough survive Spearcrest.

I’m distracted for the first half of the day, but I immediately cheer up at lunch when I spot Araminta Wilson-Sing and Audrey Malone. They are sitting in our patch of grass west of the campus, by the big oak trees near the old Greenhouse. They wave me over and I hurry towards them, my heart suddenly lifted.

They are my only friends in Spearcrest—they are the ones who picked up the pieces of me after Evan destroyed our friendship.

The two people who make life here bearable.

“Sophie, how did you ever manage to get this tall?” Araminta exclaims when I reach them.

Araminta is short and curvy and full of this super feminine energy. Her parents are both in politics, and they probably hope she’ll follow in their footsteps, but if I’m honest she’s too good for politics. Too beautiful, too lively, too sincere.

“I told you milk was good for you,” I tell her, sitting at her side.

She pulls a face, but before she can lecture me on how disgusting cow milk is, Audrey wraps us both in her arms and squeezes, knocking our heads together.

“I have missed you girls. So. Bloody. Much!”

Audrey is probably one of the smartest students in the school. She’s wiser than most adults I know. If I ever need advice, she is my go-to.

We eat lunch in the grass near the sixth form dormitories, doing our best to catch up. After I finish eating, I lie back in the grass with my head on Araminta’s lap, listening to Audrey. She’s telling us about some exotic older guy she’d met on holiday.

“An older man, Audrey?” Araminta asks salaciously. “You have to be careful with those. You know they only want one thing.”

“And boys our age don’t?” Audrey retorts, rolling her eyes. “At least older guys are more subtle about it. They know how to woo a girl.”

“

?” Araminta cackles. “Who are you, Jane Austen?”

I melt into easy laughter. When they’re not around, I always get this horrible sense of urgency, like I’m running out of time. Like everything is going to go wrong.

But around the girls, all the worry fades. It’s still there, just out of focus. Mum and Dad are always reminding me of how hard I’m going to have to work for even a fraction of the opportunities Spearcrest kids are going to have, but Araminta and Audrey make me feel like I’m one of those Spearcrest kids.

It’s only an illusion, but a lovely illusion. The illusion of belonging.

“How about you, Sophe?” Araminta asks.

I shrug. “Same as usual. Went to visit Mum’s family in Yorkshire. Saw some old castles. Read books. Researched universities. Nothing quite as exciting as Audrey’s scandalous affair.”

“I’m sure there’ll be plenty of opportunity for scandal this year,” Araminta says, waggling her eyebrows. “The Young Kings are running out of time on their bet to shag every girl in the year group before final exams.”

I prop myself up on my elbows, my good mood suddenly evaporated. “God! I forgot they said that!”

“At the end of Year 11, remember?” Araminta cackles. “Such a power move.”

“Such a dick move, more like,” Audrey says, shaking her head. “You couldn’t pay me to go near one of them. I’m done dating little boys.”

“They’re not so little anymore,” I mutter. I used to be taller than most boys in my year, now the Young Kings are all taller and bigger than me.

“Alright, between us girls,’ Araminta says, whispering loudly, ‘if you had to have sex with one of the Young Kings, who would it be?” She doesn’t wait before continuing. “I’ll go first. Luca. He’s the biggest arsehole of them all, but that’s because I reckon he’s the most insecure. He wouldn’t want anybody to spread the rumour he’s shit in bed, so I think he would make an extra effort to make me come.”

I choke on my own breath.

“Araminta!” I stare at her in horror.

Audrey is laughing so hard she’s making my head bounce on her lap. “You really came prepared with that analysis, Minty,’ she says. ‘I can tell you’ve given this some thought.”

“Well, I’d rather be prepared,” Araminta says with a shrug. “Besides, it’s our last year at Spearcrest, and my last year in the UK. I can’t waste it.”

She has a point. I nod reluctantly, even though sex with Luca sounds like the most disgusting thing I can imagine.

“I mean we’re all going to fuck some arseholes at some point in our lives,” Araminta adds. “I might as well get mine out of the way. Set myself up for success.”

This time, even I have to laugh.

“Audrey,” Araminta continues, “who would you pick?”

Audrey thinks carefully, tapping her manicured fingers against her lips, and ends up answering, “Sev Montcroix.”

We all groan.

“He’s so… pretentious and moody,” Araminta winces. “So… I don’t know, full of himself.”

I nod. “Not to mention a total fuckboy.”

“The word you’re looking for is !” Audrey exclaims. “That’s what you guys are trying to say. That’s what the problem is. He’s so .”

“Yeah, French,” Araminta says, “besides, I heard a rumour he’s engaged now.”

“Engaged?” I cover my mouth. “Imagine being the poor girl who’s going to have to put up with his pissy attitude and fuckboy behaviour for the rest of her life.”

The bell rings, drowning out the girls’ giggles. I reluctantly leave the comfort of Araminta’s lap, grabbing my bag as I get to my feet.

Araminta grabs my wrist.

“Not so fast, Sophe! You owe us an answer.”

“I would tell you,” I say, “but I genuinely have to go!”

“Liar!” Araminta exclaims, pointing an accusing finger at me. “You just don’t want to tell us.”

I pull a letter from my backpack and brandish it in her face.

“I’m not lying. See? I have to report to Miss Bailey for the academic mentor programme!”

Araminta reads the letter with narrowed eyes and sighs.

“Shit.”

With a smug grin, I take my letter and stomp away, waving at them over my shoulder.

“Whatever!” Araminta yells, pulling out her tongue at me. “We all know who you’d pick anyway! Ev—”

The rest is muffled by Audrey’s hand, but it’s too late. I turn to throw a thunderous glare at Araminta. She gives me a thumbs up.

“We love you, Sophie!” Audrey says warmly.

I pull a face at them and hurry away. Based on how warm my cheeks feel, it’s a good thing they didn’t get to see how red my face probably is.

Not that Araminta is right. She’s just saying it to wind me up because she knows how much I hate him. Still, the disgusting thought of sleeping with Evan Knight follows me like a shadow all the way to Miss Bailey’s office.

Miss Bailey is one of the younger teachers at Spearcrest, and she used to be my English teacher back in lower school. I miss having her because she has this incredible calming influence on everyone around her.

The kind of calming influence I need right now.

When I walk into her office, she’s watering her little collection of ferns and succulents. She’s wearing a cream satin shirt and loose trousers. Her heels are lying abandoned under her desk, and her dark bob is pinned back by tortoiseshell hair clips.

She gives me this huge grin when I come in, and even makes me a cup of green tea when she makes herself one.

“I can’t believe this is your last year,” she says. “I’m never going to be able to replace you in this programme.”

I can’t help blushing a little bit, even though she probably doesn’t really mean that.

The truth is that no matter how hard I work, I’m nowhere near the smartest student in Spearcrest. Still, I’ve done everything in my power to be the best mentor I could be to every student Miss Bailey has ever entrusted me with.

After a quick catch-up chat, Miss Bailey turns towards her computer.

“Right, down to business, then. This year is going to be a little bit different. Normally, I have Year 12s mentor students in the lower schools, and Year 13s mentor Year 12s, but I’ve had some special requests from the governors this year. So…” she looks up at me, widening her eyes, “how would you feel about mentoring another Year 13?”

“Someone from year?” I say, unable to stop the surprise seeping into my voice.

She nods.

That definitely doesn’t fit well into my plan of keeping myself to myself this year. I don’t feel good about it at all, but Miss Bailey is looking at me with her big hazel eyes, waiting expectantly.

“Alright…” I say. “I suppose I could.”

“Oh, Sophie, that’s wonderful! I know it might be a little awkward for you, but I’ve been put under some pressure to make sure certain students get their target grades.”

“It’s okay, Miss Bailey,” I say.

I can see how hard Miss Bailey works, and I can only imagine the pressure she must be under. Besides, this is my last year. So it might be a bit awkward tutoring a kid from my year, but how bad can it be?

“You’re a superstar, Sophie,” Miss Bailey says, sounding genuinely relieved. “Since you’re doing exceptionally well in your Literature class I’ve paired you with a student who is currently failing Literature.”

“Failing?” I wince.

How can someone fail English Lit? I’m pretty sure all you have to do to pass is just read the books.

Miss Bailey sighs. “Unfortunately, yes. Except that failing is not an option this student’s parents are willing to accept.”

“I can imagine.”

“I’ve scheduled your sessions for Tuesdays and Thursdays, six in the afternoon. How do you feel about that?”

I check my planner. In between chess club, my study timetable, and the lower school book club I run, my time is already slipping away from me. Still, it’s too late to turn back now, and I have every intention of getting into every university I apply for, and this is my ticket.

“Alright, Miss Bailey, that’s fine, I’ve made a note.”

“You absolute angel!” Miss Bailey exclaims, typing into her computer. “You’re quite possibly saving my life! Alright, I’ve booked you in. You won’t start until half-term, so you get to have those afternoons for yourself now.”

I nod and make a note of that too. Miss Bailey beams at me. “You remind me so much of me when I was your age, you know.’

I try to hide how much it pleases me to hear this. I tuck my hair behind my ears, a little self-consciously, then put my planner away and stand.

“If I grow up to be like you, Miss Bailey, I would be pretty proud.”

She laughs.

“What! A boring old English teacher! No, you’ve got a much more impressive future ahead of you, I can tell. Well, have a good term, my darling.”

“Thanks, Miss Bailey.”

I stop at the door.

“Who will it be, by the way?”

“Your lucky tutee?”

I laugh.

“Yes, my lucky tutee.”

“Mm,” she checks her computer. “Evan Knight.”

My entire body becomes entombed in ice.

“Who?” I ask even though I heard perfectly well.

“Evan Knight,” she looks up from her computer. “Do you know him?”

The ice of which I am now made cracks and shatters into splinters. I can barely move.

“No,” I say weakly. “See you later, Miss Bailey.”

And then I run away, trying to keep the bits of me together long enough that Miss Bailey doesn’t see me fall apart.

And then all the pain from Evan’s words this morning, from every cruel thing he’s ever said to me, and the oldest pain of all, the pain of betrayal, all come rushing back like a blow.