Keeping Up Appearances

by Elizabeth Stevens

  Keeping Up Appearances

  ALSO BY ELIZABETH STEVENS

  unvamped

  Netherfield Prep

  No More Maybes

  the Trouble with Hate is…

  Accidentally Perfect

  Keeping Up Appearances

  Elizabeth Stevens

  Sleeping Dragon Books

  Keeping Up Appearances

  by Elizabeth Stevens

  Print ISBN: 978-0648264866

  Digital ISBN: 978-0648264873

  Cover art by: Izzie Duffield

  Copyright 2018 Elizabeth Stevens

  Worldwide Electronic & Digital Rights

  Worldwide English Language Print Rights

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any form, including digital and electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the prior written consent of the Publisher, except for brief quotes for use in reviews. This book is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  For Emily,

  because you are invaluable.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter One

  Today was the day. The day I finally told Jason how I felt. I’d remembered to put on my big girl undies, I’d chugged three cups of coffee to steel myself against the nerves that were threatening to make me hurl – although, all that actually served to do was make the butterflies beat a slightly more violent samba on my ribcage – and I’d rehearsed what I was going to say to him for the last twenty-four hours.

  I was ready.

  I could do this.

  “You just go up to him and you say the words. The good words. The coherent words.” I mumbled the world’s least inspiring pep-talk to myself as I walked into the school building.

  I would have had no idea if anyone was saying ‘good morning’ or about to throw eggs at me. I was too busy keeping an eye out for Jason as I walked towards his locker. I forced my hands to relax out of the white-knuckle fists they’d balled themselves into and to take a deep breath.

  “You can do this,” I muttered. “Nancy agreed it sounded fine. It’s fine. You can–”

  I stopped and felt someone run into the back of me. They said something distasteful, but I didn’t hear what the exact words were as I was too busy having my heart ripped out of my chest and stomped on. I was pretty sure it was then set on fire for good measure and the ashes were scattered prettily on a vat of acid.

  Somehow, despite all that torture, the damned thing was still managing to beat furiously in my chest. It got far too hot and suddenly the air seemed far too thin. An inconvenient lump formed in my throat.

  I blinked, not believing what I was seeing. Surely, I was dreaming? I actually slapped my own cheek, but the image in front of me was still clear as day.

  Seeing Jason and Nancy standing in front of his locker on a Monday morning was not an unexpected sight, it happened on a weekly basis. But seeing Jason and Nancy in front of his locker with his hands on her hips, their foreheads and noses touching, and making goo-goo eyes at each other? That was something I’d only ever seen in my nightmares.

  And, the universe didn’t seem to think that was enough to throw at me that morning.

  My heart, too despondent even for theatrics, stuttered to a stop when he pressed a kiss to her lips. As far as kisses went, it was a simple thing; chaste and sweet and completely appropriate for the school hallway. But, I felt that nausea threatening again and I took an involuntary step forward as if that was going to make any difference. I managed to drag my eyes off them for long enough to look around. No one seemed at all concerned that Jason and Nancy were kissing in the hallway.

  Which only meant one thing.

  Well, no. Actually it meant a multitude of things.

  But first and foremost, it meant that I was the last one to find out.

  It also meant that the whole time I was going over my speech to Nancy in the last twenty-four hours – and she’d been telling me she thought it was great and building up my confidence and telling me I had to talk to him today – she’d been, what? Already…with him?

  I felt sick and my eyes felt unusually hot and prickly.

  Someone clapped me on the back and I looked over to see Nigel grinning at me. “JT and Nance finally got together at Teagan’s! Pretty great, huh, Holl?” he asked, clapped me on the back again and walked off with a huge grin.

  Teagan’s party.

  The party we’d boycotted on Saturday night because Teagan was one of the Bows and we hated them. Or at least, I’d thought we hated them and I thought we’d boycotted her party. Apparently, I’d been the only one sitting at home on a Saturday night crying at bad rom-com movies in my pyjamas and stuffing myself with chocolate.

  I dragged my eyes back to Jason and Nancy and found them looking at me like the school hallway was the last place they’d ever have expected to see me, like we didn’t meet at Jason’s locker every morning and had been meeting at Jason’s locker every morning since the third week of Year Eight.

  Concern flooded Jason’s deep sapphire eyes, but it was Nancy’s reaction that really hit home. The expression on her face said more to me than words ever could; the conniving weasel knew how I felt about him. She’d known all these years how I felt about him.

  It had never been lost on us that a guy with two female best friends could cause some issues as we grew up. That was the whole reason Nancy and I had always been honest about him. We had a pact that we’d always tell each other if we started or stopped crushing on him – or in my case, fell totally, completely and irrevocably in love with him and wouldn’t stop even when I was stone cold dead.

  Nancy had crushed on him plenty over the years, and we’d always laughed about it. Each time, I’d reassured her that he wasn’t mine and if she really liked him and he liked her, I’d step back – and, I’d meant it… At least, I’d wanted to mean it. But, she’d then always assured me that Jason wasn’t her type (particularly when her type was secretly the King of the Bows and all around dropkick – hot, yes, but arsehole extraordinaire) and that she wouldn’t get in my way.

  And, then! Then, she’d spent all of the day before texting me back and forth about me talking to him about how I felt! So with all this in mind, it was a bit of an understatement to say seeing them and their unexpected PDA was a bit of a surprise.

  I just… I just couldn’t comprehend such…betrayal.

  I’d been blindsided. I felt like I’d been kicked in the gut and it hurt worse than thos
e period cramps where it feels like Alien is trying to rip its way out of your uterus.

  I blinked and realised my eyes were tearing up.

  So, yay. Betrayal with a healthy sprinkling of humiliation threatening as well.

  Just what I needed on a Monday morning after three cups of coffee.

  Jason took a step forwards as he ignored the person who called out hello to him, but I turned and pushed my way through the throng of kids. I could only hope I’d find somewhere quiet before my eyes decided to join in on the betrayal and embarrass me in front of a whole school full of merciless teenagers. Thankfully, most of those merciless teenagers were making for their first lessons so the hallways were emptying aggravatingly slowly.

  I had no idea where I thought I was going or what I planned to do once I got there. But, where I found myself was not what I’d been expecting – even considering I wasn’t thinking straight. I pushed open a door, turned a corner, and my hands ran smack into a naked chest along with my face. I pulled my face off the naked chest and looked around, realising I’d somehow found myself in the boys’ locker room. Thank God it seemed like this half-naked body was the only other body in there.

  “Of all the girls I expected to see in here, you were not on the list,” a very recognisable voice said and I looked up to find the dark brown hair and pale cognac-coloured eyes belonging to the King of the Bows himself. But, the cocky smirk turned to a frown as he searched my face. “What’s wrong?”

  I blinked and a tear actually had the audacity to run down my face. I sniffed, looked up at the ceiling and tried surreptitiously to wipe under my eye. “Nothing’s wrong. Why would anything be wrong?”

  The smirk was back. “You’re certainly not the first girl brought to tears by my body.”

  My tears were suddenly, magically drying up and I was starting to forget why they’d welled in the first place as I glared at him. “I imagine I’m not the first one scarred by the experience either,” I replied flippantly.

  He only laughed and rubbed his hand along his stupidly perfect jaw. “Can’t say that’s been the feedback so far. But, I’ll take it on board,” he said with a conceding nod.

  I looked around and saw that we were indeed thankfully the only ones in there. The first bell rang and I mentally cursed my bad luck. I turned to leave, but he caught my arm. I would have turned back to say something particularly scathing I’m sure, but my phone buzzed. I pulled it out of my pocket. But, at the sight of Jason’s name on the caller ID, I hit ignore.

  “Ah,” he breathed. “You found out then.”

  Tears threatened again and I huffed a frustrated sigh in the hope I’d suddenly feel more angry than sad. Standing in the boys’ locker room with a half-naked King of the Bows (who somehow knew the news of Jason and Nancy before me) wasn’t making it all that much of a stretch; I at least remembered who we did and didn’t hate, and who we were and were not loyal to.

  “You almost say that like you care,” I scoffed.

  “About you? No. About that git fucking up? Yes.”

  I rolled my eyes and turned to him with a glare I certainly wasn’t feeling. “How is it so many girls want you when you’re such an arsehole?” I asked as though I genuinely cared.

  He grinned at me with that easy manner he had. “Didn’t you hear? I’m officially out of the game.”

  I looked him over. “You, dating?” I scoffed. “That’s about as likely as getting snow this Christmas.”

  He barely supressed a shudder like the whole idea of dating was mortally disgusting to him. That, or maybe the guy had an aversion to snow. I certainly didn’t think the risk to my sanity was worth asking for clarification.

  “Ew. No. I’m currently in the market to turn girls off my charms. By your rave review, I assume it’s working.” He was smiling now like he thought he was some kind of genius.

  “I have never nor will I ever want you,” I answered. “So, I am hardly the control group for your whacko little experiment. Now, kindly get your hand off me. Some of us don’t get concessions when they’re late to class.”

  Being the star striker for the Maple Ridge Grammar soccer team, he was given a multitude of concessions; he got to skip class to do whatever sports people did, he could be late, miss tests, have easier assignments, be a complete shit to the teachers, and they all just wished him well for the next match – even when it wasn’t winter terms.

  “Why are you half-naked?” I blurted out, realising that I was staring at his shirtless torso – which, yes, was all right if you liked your guys fit, lean and cocky as sin.

  He ran a hand nonchalantly through his hair. “I went to the gym. Thought the rest of the population might appreciate me showering before being stuck in heated classrooms all day.”

  I was unimpressed, quite frankly. “Who would have thought I’d live to see the day you thought about someone else’s feelings?”

  “Does my cock count? Because, I think about his feelings a lot.”

  I glared at him, wondering where he got the confidence to just say things like that. “You’re not as charming as you think you are.”

  “I think, Holly, you’ll find I am.”

  The second bell rang and I swore, which earned me a chuckle from the King of the Bows. “I wish I could say it was a pleasure,” I told him as I went to leave.

  “Let me throw my shirt on and I’ll walk you to class.”

  I frowned as he disappeared behind some lockers, frozen by the totally cavalier way he’d said that. “What?”

  I heard the door to a locker bang and he reappeared in his shirt and tie, with his satchel slung over his shoulder. Although, how ‘in’ your clothes are you really when they’re still flapping open like you’re about to be on the cover of GQ or something?

  “Ready?” he asked as though I hadn’t moved because I’d been waiting for him.

  And, I could totally understand why he thought that; it totally looked like that. In reality, my brain had misfired trying to work out in what universe he would tell me to wait for him as though he expected I would and that I would then be waiting for him.

  This one, apparently.

  “Holly?” He laid a hand on my arm and I jumped.

  “Yes, what?” I answered hurriedly.

  He looked at me like I concerned him for a moment, but then he was back to his sarcastically casual self. “Shall we get you out of the boys’ locker rooms? Or, did you want Coach to find you in here? I’ve got pull, but I don’t know if I can get us out of detention for this one.”

  I glared at him and nodded. “You know this from experience, I assume.”

  He gave me a wry smirk that told me he did indeed know that from experience and pushed the door open for me to go first.

  I walked out into the hallway and was annoyed to find students still milling about. And, they didn’t fail to notice me walking out of the boys’ locker rooms while the King of the Bows held the door open for me and he may as well still have been half-naked. Of course, he didn’t care in the slightest that they were staring and nudging each other as we walked down the hallway like we’d just had the hook-up of the century. Then again, the two of us being seen in any vicinity not at loggerheads was likely to cause a commotion.

  “We’ve got French now, yeah?” he asked absently as he wandered beside me.

  “You’re actually coming to class today? No emergency sports practice that will conveniently get you out of your vocab test?”

  He snorted. “Not this morning, unfortunately.” There was a pause. “Wait, we have a vocab test?”

  I turned to see him stopped, halfway through doing his buttons up, and him looking up at me through the hair hanging over his face like I’d just told him the powers that be had made soccer illegal and all the women in the world just died simultaneously.

  I gave him a sickly sweet smile. “Yes. We do.”

  I had never seen panic cross his face before, but I took a singular pleasure in it then. By the wa
y his eyes narrowed, he could tell and that pissed him off. I wish I could say I cared.

  “So, a question. Where are you going to sit now that your two best friends are doing the nasty?” he asked slowly as though it was something we discussed every day. My step faltered and he bent his head towards mine as we walked along. “Or, do we not talk about that particular heartbreak?”

  “Be thankful I’m not a naturally violent person,” I huffed, although I would be happy to make an exception for this guy.

  He chuckled. “I’ll tell you what. You come sit by me, give that git loser something to think about, and I won’t even cheat off your test.”

  “Wow. What an enticing offer,” I replied, sarcasm-heavy. “Thanks. But, no thanks.”

  “You going to sit in that empty seat right up front?” he cajoled.

  I frowned. “I…”

  And really – if I did that – how obvious would it be? If I sat by King Douche, at least it would be less obvious I was avoiding my (former?) best friend. Sitting next to someone was a just enough cause for not sitting next to someone else, wasn’t it? I mean, it was the King of the Bows and our sworn enemy… But, the alternative was just so much less appealing.

  He rearranged his shoulder strap as he strolled beside me. “You’ve got about two metres to reconsider my offer, Holly…”

  “I can sit wherever I like.” And wherever I liked was preferably not next to the King of the Bows.

  “Yes. But if I’m in on it, you can really stick it to git-face.”

  I glared at him on Jason’s behalf, if only because I’d temporarily forgotten that Jason had just broken my heart. “Fine. Thank you,” I accepted begrudgingly.

  Just as we walked up to the classroom door, he took my hand completely casually like he did it all the time. I looked at in him surprise, but didn’t have a chance to say anything as Madame Renoir let out a deep sigh.

  “Late again?” she asked as though she hoped maybe he had any other explanation for what was happening.