Safety is Relative

Chapter Twelve- Confession

On Saturday, after training, I climb into the back of the car as usual bruised and cross. Unlike any other week, due to my pent-up exasperation, I’d lasted longer than usual before I’d lost concentration and let Sophia pummel me. But, like any other week, eventually fatigue had got the better of me, and she punched me so squarely in the jaw that I had to sit out for the rest of the session with an ice-pack on my face.

‘I hate that girl,’ I say sourly, as she saunters past the car with her twin, seemingly feeling as good as when she arrived.

‘Maybe you should have let out your anger issues on her,’ suggests Quinn from the front.

‘I did!’

He chuckles. ‘Wow sis, either you are a crap fighter or you have a lot of repressed rage.’

I stare out of the window, only to see Lysander hurrying up to the car.

‘Can we go? Let’s go!’ I say frantically, hitting the back of Quinn’s chair to hammer my point across. ‘Come on, Mum!’

Mum stares at me, bemused. ‘But Ash isn’t here yet?’

‘He can walk home!’

Lysander taps on the window, and I cringe away from it. I've been avoiding him as much as possible ever since that kiss two days ago, but he keeps tracking me down, trying to talk to me, acting as though we’re some sort of item.

Which we are most definitely not.

Not that this significant fact seems to have entered his thick skull yet.

‘Oh look, it’s Poppy’s son!’

‘Don’t open the window, don’t open the window, don’t open the- oh hi, Sander! What’s up?’ I force a stupid smile on my face. I can’t be as rude as I am at school when Mum’s in the car, not if I want to survive rolling the window up.

Lysander leans against the car. ‘Nothing really. I just wanted to see if you were alright after that blow to the head?’

‘Crap fighter,’ Quinn mutters, sniggering.

‘I’m fine,’ I say, kicking his seat.

‘Cool. Knew you would be, just wanted to make sure, you know.’ Lysander stands up, looking across the car park. ‘Look, I have to go. I’ll see you later at your party, okay? Bye.’

He hesitates, like he’s waiting for me to beg him not to leave, but I just greet him with stony silence until he walks off, looking a bit hurt.

I don’t feel bad. The egotistical jerk deserves it.

Then what he said penetrates my brain. ‘Hey! What did he mean our party? Please tell me we’re not throwing a party and he’s invited?’

Mum turns around to stare at me. ‘Yes, we are throwing a party and he is invited. What has got into you, Rue? I thought you liked him?’

‘No,’ I say sulkily, crossing my arms.

‘Well, in answer to your rudely-asked question, we are having a party tonight. I thought it would be fun to invite your friends from training. And hopefully you will be in a better mood by then, madam. Honestly, I try to do something nice for you and it gets thrown back in my face!’

‘Teenage girls, eh Mum?’ says Quinn, shaking his head.

Ash distracts me from murdering Quinn by arriving, and allowing us to leave at last. The car journey home is quiet, with everyone preoccupied with their thoughts. I have a headache, so I lean against the window, my panging forehead pressed against the cool glass, watching the raindrops trickle down. They calm my racing thoughts. All I need to do is tell Lysander I’m not interested, and hopefully not hurt him too badly.