by Emma Doherty
“There’s a new girl.”
My whole body stills. Did she actually come to school?
“She’s smoking, man,” Logan says. “Everyone’s talking about it.”
I’m trying to process their words, but I can’t as my eyes dart around the corridor. It’s got to be her, right? We don’t get many new girls, though surely I would have seen her if she’d been here, right? Then again, it is a big school and we could be on different schedules, and if I know Izzy then she’s definitely not planning on going out of her way to see me.
“How do you know?” I ask sharply. “Have you seen her?”
Finn nods, his eyes narrowing at my reaction. “Yeah, she was in history with us.”
I blink. It’s got to be her.
I look at Logan, who can’t wipe the grin off his face. “Bro, you gotta see this chick.” He turns to Finn like he needs him to back him up. “She’s British, right?”
It is her.
Finn’s looking at me curiously, and I’m guessing he’s starting to piece it together. He knows I have a sister who lives in the UK, of course he does, but he doesn’t know what she looks like. The only picture I have of me and Izzy is one from when we were little, and I hardly ever talk about her anymore. I can’t. It’s too hard talking about a sister who doesn’t give a damn about me. Who wants to admit that? So, I’ve just buried it, but Finn’s smart. I don’t know if he remembers her name from when I used to speak about her, but I mentioned to him months ago that I wanted her to move over here and I can see he’s starting to question the new girl based on my reaction.
“Ethan—”
Logan cuts him off. “Phillips was almost drooling, man.” He’s completely oblivious to the tension that’s overtaken my body as he refers to one of our teammates.
“What’s her name?” Matty asks.
“Izzy, I think?” Logan turns to Finn. “Was it Izzy Kavanagh?”
It’s like a punch in the face. “What?” My voice is louder than I intended it to be. “What did you say her name was?”
He looks confused at my reaction. They all do, and I’m not surprised; it’s not a usual response. “Izzy Kavanagh?”
I scoff in disbelief. Of course. Of course she’s freaking using Kavanagh. God forbid she admits any link to me.
“She’s hot, like another level hot. You should have seen Evie’s face when she walked in.”
I scowl when I realise he’s still talking about my sister and the way she looks. I’m about to say something when Matty jumps in. “Oh yeah? What does she look like?”
“Like she should be on my dick.”
I grab his shoulders and slam him into the lockers so hard the noise echoes down the hallway. Everyone around us freezes, and it’s not just my friends who have eyes on me. Everyone in the vicinity is looking over at us in surprise.
“Don’t you ever say anything like that again,” I hiss at Logan, who looks as startled as everyone else. I glance around, my breathing heavy. “If any of you fuckers go near her, I swear to God I will end you.”
There’s no way in hell I’d let any of my horny, dirtbag friends anywhere near my sister.
Logan nods, his eyes wide, and I step back, taking a deep breath.
This is what she does to me—makes me so damn angry I completely overreact and take it out on one of my best friends. Yes, what he said was out of line, but I know he was just joking, and I’ve definitely heard worse in the locker room. “Sorry,” I mutter. “I’m just stressed.”
Logan holds his hands up in surrender. “No worries, man.”
I need to find her—right now. I grab my bag and turn to haul ass out of here.
“She really said Kavanagh?” I demand, stopping and turning to face them. “That’s what she said her name was?”
He nods wordlessly, his eyes wide.
I shake my head in irritation then turn and stalk off, not giving a crap that Finn’s shouting after me to wait for him. I have every intention of finding my sister and finding out exactly what the hell she’s playing at.
Lunchtime finally rolls around, and I bolt from my desk the second the bell rings. There’s no way I’m sticking around for afternoon lessons. I could barely concentrate in class, and I’ve felt like an exhibit in a museum all morning. People have openly been staring at me and whispering about me, and some of guys in letterman jackets—who I can only assume are football players—have started to get bolder, walking that little bit too close to me in the hallways and trying to draw me into conversation. The entire morning has felt like an ordeal I’m not willing to repeat.
I really feel like I’m on the edge. The edge of what, I don’t know.
I’m ready to head for the main entrance when Pippa appears in front of me.
“Hey.” She smiles at me, glancing around nervously. I’m surprised to find I’m actually pleased to see her. It’s nice to see someone familiar who is actually talking to me rather than just staring at me. “I know you didn’t ask me to meet you or anything, but I just had class next door to you and I thought I could walk you to the cafeteria, maybe introduce you to some of my friends?”
I hesitate, still thinking about getting out of here, and she misreads my hesitation.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to. You’re probably already meeting people,” she says, turning and walking away.
“Wait, stop,” I call after her, hurrying to catch up. I pause, glancing longingly towards the main entrance but then realising it would only get back to my dad if I don’t attend afternoon classes. “That would be nice. Thanks.”
She grins back at me, and together we make our way to the cafeteria. Walking along with somebody makes me feel not quite as alone as I have all morning.
She pushes through the doors and I follow, trying not to feel intimidated by the sheer volume of people who are packed into the room. I glance around and pretend I don’t know notice how the volume dims slightly and how I’m definitely getting more than a few looks. They really mustn’t get many new people here.
She turns to me. “I feel like I’m with a celebrity.”
I snort. “Hardly. I’m just the new girl freak.”
She laughs. “You’re not a freak. Did you bring your lunch?”
I shake my head, and she turns and points towards a line at the far side of the room. “That’s where you can go grab some food. It’s usually pretty good.”
I nod as she tells me she brings her own lunch and then points out where she and her friends sit, telling me to come over when I’ve got my food. Then she takes off, leaving me to fend for myself in the lunch line. I make my way over to the food counter and notice a group of guys in those jackets blocking the way. They go silent as I approach but don’t move. I plaster a bored expression on my face and scoot around them, refusing to give them the satisfaction of having me look at them. Pippa was right; they really do think they run the school.
I join the back of line, and after taking one glance at the tacos that are wilting on the hotplate and the greasy burgers next to them, I decide to opt for a chicken sandwich (after checking what’s inside it), an apple, and a bottle of water. I pay at the till and then turn to face the cafeteria, scanning for Pippa’s table. She’s already looking my way and waves over at me, smiling widely. I keep my eyes on the ground in front of me and the tray that holds my lunch as I move through the various tables, trying to get to Pippa’s so I can quickly eat my lunch and pretend everyone’s not looking at me.
Suddenly a chair is kicked out directly into my path, halting me in place. I turn to see where it’s come from and see Ethan is sat slouched in the chair opposite the one he’s shoved in my direction. Of course he’s in here. I should have thought about that, and I mentally kick myself for not thinking about him when I agreed to come in. My eyes scan around his table. It’s completely full. Every seat is taken, and there are people standing around on the edges, like they’re chatting to those who are sat down, only no one’s chatting right now. They’re all staring at me.
<
br /> Ethan clears his throat and nods towards the only empty seat, which he’s kicked into my pathway. “I saved you a seat. Sit down and I’ll introduce you around.”
I pause whilst he stares back at me, his face totally expressionless unless you know him well and can detect the tenseness in his jaw. He’s not as comfortable as he’d like everyone to believe. We both know what this is. It’s a chance for me to slot into his life as his sister and take my place amongst his friends, to forget about the last five years. My eyes meet his and, just for a second, I see the hope that’s there before I shake my head.
No.
No, he can’t have it both ways. He can’t drop me as a twelve-year-old and then expect me to walk back into his life like nothing has happened. We can’t pretend the last five years didn’t happen and act like he was there when I needed him. Neither of us say anything for a few seconds then I shove the chair back towards him with more force than is strictly necessary and go to move on.
“Izzy!”
I pause and look back at him. His eyes are still focused on me, but I’m acutely aware that it’s not just his eyes on me. His whole table is silent as they watch our exchange. “Just sit down, okay?”
“Yeah, come on, pretty girl. Sit with us.” I turn and see a grinning guy with light brown hair sat next to Ethan. It’s the same guy who was in my history class and wanted me to sit near him.
Ethan turns to face him. “Shut up, Logan. Didn’t you hear me this morning?”
The guy pales at the memory and the smile is wiped from his face. “Sorry, I’m just being friendly.”
“Well don’t,” Ethan snaps. He turns back to me. “Come on, sit down.”
“No, thank you.”
“Biz!”
I freeze completely, and my eyes find his. “Don’t call me that.” There’s a definite bite to my tone. Biz is what my mum used to call me. Ethan did too, to be fair, but I can’t hear that right now, not when no one’s called me that since she died.
His eyes flash with annoyance. “Fine,” he bites out. “Take a seat, Isabella.” My eyes narrow. He knows I hate my full name and no one ever calls me it, not even teachers. I go by Izzy, as he knows full well. I shake my head and turn to walk away. “Actually, I heard you’re going by Kavanagh now.” There’s an edge to his voice that I’ve not heard before. “Been hearing all morning about the new girl Izzy Kavanagh.” Anger crosses his face, like it’s a personal insult to him that I’m not using the same surname as him. But why would I? I can’t stand my father, so why would I want his name? “Kavanagh,” he mutters, like it leaves a bad taste, which is weird considering it’s his mum’s name too.
“I go by my mum’s name,” I tell him unnecessarily.
“Your mum’s name?” he asks incredulously. “Yours?”
“Yeah, I think they know each other,” someone mutters nearby, and someone else replies, “No shit.” Apart from that, there’s total and utter silence from his friends as they watch our exchange.
Ethan doesn’t even notice them. His focus is solely on me as he shakes his head and his hands clench into fists on the table. “You’re unbelievable, do you know that? You finally decide to turn up after four days, and then I hear you’re using Kavanagh. You’re a…” He stops himself from finishing and instead takes a deep breath, in through his nose and out through his mouth, as though he’s trying to calm himself down.
But I’m interested now. “I’m what?” I step towards him. This isn’t like him. Usually he’s happy-go-lucky. Usually he doesn’t show his real feelings; he’s an expert at covering them. “Finish your sentence, Ethan,” I say sharply.
He throws his hands up. “You know what? I should just be grateful you showed, right? That you showed up and are gracing me with your presence. That you’re not drunk for the first time in days. That I actually know where you are for once.”
My eyes bore into his. Why is he acting like he’s concerned? Why is he acting like he’s bothered about my behaviour? He can’t suddenly start acting like this after years of silence between us.
My silence just pisses him off further. “Or maybe I should just be thankful that we’re actually having a conversation, right? Because God knows you don’t talk to me anymore,” he mutters.
Finally. Finally he’s not being the perfect all-American teenager who’s bothered by nothing.
“I don’t even know…” His voice trails off as he shakes his head, like he wasn’t actually aware of what he was saying.
“Speak up, Ethan,” I tell him, putting my lunch onto the table in front of me and crossing my arms. “Use your words. Formulate a proper sentence.” I say it just because I want to see how far I can push him to get a reaction. “Even you can manage to do that.”
“You nasty bitch,” he snaps before he can think, and I start to laugh as there are shocked gasps around us. I’m amused because my perfect brother is finally losing his control and showing me some of his true feelings for a change.
“Whoa, whoa,” Finn starts, looking at him in surprise before glancing back at me. “We all just need to chill out.”
Neither Ethan nor I acknowledge him.
“Yeah,” Logan starts. “I think maybe you should go sit somewhere else, pretty girl.”
Ethan turns to glare at him. “Stop calling her that. I already told you guys to leave her alone. If I find out any of you guys have gone near her, I swear to God you’ll regret it.”
Finn looks startled by the anger in Ethan’s tone as I start to laugh and say, “It’s a bit late to start worrying about my honour, Ethan. That went a long time ago.”
He winces as he realises what I’m saying. At the look on my face, his wince turns into a glare. “Just shup up.” He turns to look back at his friends. “I mean it. She’s off limits.”
“We got it, E,” Finn assures him just as the blonde at Ethan’s side—the girl Pippa shied away from earlier, the one who’s been looking steadily more and more pissed off throughout our conversation—finally explodes.
“WHAT THE HELL, ETHAN? Why are you telling people she’s off limits?”
He barely glances at her. “I’ll tell you later, Evie,” he says distractedly, dismissing her.
Evie. That’s the name of the girl I know I don’t like without even saying a word to her.
Ethan is reaching down and grabbing his bag, and he’s rounded the table before I tear my eyes away from Evie, having matched the look she’s giving me with one of my own. “Come on,” he starts, grabbing my arm. “I want to talk to you.”
I snatch my arm back. “Don’t touch me,” I snap. I already have one family member trying controlling me and telling me what to do. I don’t need another. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
That seems to be the last straw for Ethan. “You are a fucking nightmare. Do you know that? I’ve been worried about you all week and you just turn up like nothing’s wrong. You are so selfish and…” He stops abruptly, clamping his mouth shut as he realises just how much we’re being scrutinised, but I want to hear more.
“Go on,” I tell him, my voice low. “Tell me what you think.”
He takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. Let’s just get out of here.”
I take a step closer to him. “Tell me what you think of me, Ethan,” I challenge quietly. I pause whilst he just glares back, his whole body radiating tension. When he doesn’t respond, I continue. “Do you want to know what I think of you?” There’s no need to raise my voice. There’s total silence around us, and it’s not just his table watching us anymore, but I don’t care. I’ve been itching to tell Ethan what I think of him for months, if not years, and if this is the place where I do it, so be it. I take another step closer to him. “I think you are a pathetic excuse for a so—”
“WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?” Evie suddenly erupts from her place at the table. She stands and comes to face me, flanking Ethan on his left. “YOU DO NOT SPEAK TO US LIKE THAT.”
“I don’t remember s
peaking to you. Did I?”
Her jaw falls open. Clearly she’s not used to people speaking back to her. She crosses her arms over her chest and takes a step closer to me. “You need to be careful.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
“You don’t have a clue what you’ve just done.” Her dark blue eyes bore into me, and a smile takes over her lips. “You just made a big mistake,” she warns. “You just committed social suicide, babe. I don’t care about your dumb accent or your designer handbag. You’re officially done here.”
“I’m done?”
“I’m gonna make sure of it. I’m gonna be your worst nightmare.”
Ethan’s head snaps to her in surprise, and he scowls in disgust. “Evie, stop. Don’t be such a bitch.”
She looks utterly flabbergasted that he’s defended me.
“I don’t need your help, Ethan,” I tell him.
He turns to me. “It would be really good if you could just shut your mouth right now, Biz.”
“Shut up.”
“What did you say?” Evie demands, pushing past Ethan to get closer to me. It’s obvious she’s getting more and more agitated that there’s something going on that she doesn’t understand.
“I said ‘Shut up.’ Want me to spell it for you?”
Her face turns red with fury and she leans towards me. “I don’t know who you think you are with that stupid accent—”
“British,” I interrupt her. “It’s a British accent. You might have heard of it? Collection of countries in Europe? The UK?”
She splutters for a minute. “Whatever. I don’t care where you came from—in this school you don’t speak to us like that, and you definitely don’t speak to Ethan Carlington like that. Do you even know who he is?”
I glance over at Ethan, who looks like he wishes he’d never bothered stopping me. “Yes, I’m aware of who Ethan Carlington is.”
“Well then you should know he’s not even on your level, sweetie. His dad owns this town, and if your family wants to settle in, it’s best not to piss off his son.”
Ethan’s jaw falls open at her words, and I wonder just how good she usually is at hiding her bitchy behaviour. I’ve no doubt this is her true character, but I wonder how often she actually shows it to Ethan and his friends, because the Ethan I knew would never tolerate this. He would never want to be around someone who behaves like this.
