Jessie Kensington thought she had escaped her troubled past when she faked her death and started a new life as Violet Arrowood. But three years later, she finds herself at Vanguard University on a scholarship, trying to build the future she always d...
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Clara is already back in bed when I enter, the lights are off and her back turned towards me. The same awkward silence is back.
"Are you awake?" I ask, though I know she is. I just don't know what else to say. "I'm sorry, please don't hate me-"
"I don't hate you." She cuts in. "I'm not upset about what you did, I don't think any less of you."
I'm confused. She doesn't think less of me, yet something feels wrong. "Then what?"
The silence stretches before she turns to face me. Though I can't see her face, knowing she is facing me makes the moment feel more intense.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she whispers. The pain in her voice makes me wince. So, it's not my actions or my confession that's upsetting her? It's that I didn't tell her sooner.
I step towards her and instantly reach out, wrapping my arms around her, and apologise again. "I'm so sorry." I pull back slightly; we're knee to knee, our hands brushing lightly. "I was scared. Not that you'd tell someone, but that you'd hate me, or think less of me. Mostly I was scared it would put you in danger. I've spent so long on the run, never having anyone to talk to. I never even considered the possibility of sharing my secret... until you came along."
"I get it, I guess. I just wish I'd known from the start. I could have helped you."
"You have helped me, C. More than you know... Since we're sharing uncomfortable things and stuff..." I swallow hard. "Please tell me what happened at the gym this morning..."
"What happened with what?"
"The text. I saw your reaction. Don't tell me it's nothing, because I know it isn't." I know it was something, her reaction reminded me of my own reaction when I received those texts.
The bed shifts as she lies back, and I do the same.
"Nothing happened that I didn't do to myself."
"What does that even mean?"
"Nothing."
"It's not nothing. I know something happened." I roll onto my side to face her, seeing only the faint light from outside the window catching the blonde in her hair. I prop myself up on one elbow, resting my head on my hand.
"Vi, I know what my grandma does," she says slowly. I freeze. "She helps girls who've lost their way. Her words, not mine." I squirm, trying to understand where she's going with this. "I didn't ask questions, neither to her or to you— because honestly? I was just doing her a favour, I didn't expect to like you. But then I met you, and I had a feeling. I didn't know you'd become one of the most important people in my life, but I had a feeling I was going to like you."
The room falls silent again, and I roll onto my back, taking a deep breath.
"What I'm trying to say is, I know you must have been through some tough things for my grandma to help you. I know what you've told us isn't the whole story. I won't pressure you to tell me anything, but when or if you're ready, I'm here for you. No judgement. And I hope you'll do the same for me. That when, and if, I'm ready to talk, I hope you'll be there, too. But until then, please don't ask me what's wrong. Because honestly, Vi? I will break down."
