Page 60 of Hired Help

Pathetic.

I’m sitting here crying and didn’t even notice.

“I’m fine.” The words come out laden with so much aggression, they’re almost fist-fighting. “Just sinuses.”

I tilt my head forward to hide the worst of it, but it does nothing to stop the sensation of the other students staring. Watching my meltdown is far more entertaining than deciphering the recurring themes in Patricia Grace’s work.

When class is over, I breathe a sigh of relief. Short-lived as I hustle to get across campus to my next class, Chemistry.

The equations involved in the class soothe me. No matter how many years pass or how much fads change, the immutable nature of the universe and its matter never changes. The stability is exactly what I need right now. Cold hard facts that don’t randomly alter the course of my life on a whim.

I have a free period leading up to midday and force myself to go to the library when I’d rather hide in my room. The stiff upper lip my dad instilled in me can’t abide the thought of skulking in the shadows, hiding.

For lunch, I meet up with Floss in the quad. She’s got another few friends with her, lightening the atmosphere. Rather than wanting to monopolise her, I’m grateful. Their casual chatter is easy to fall into.

Now the outfits being worn to the senior ball are in the rear-view mirror, talk turns to the upcoming Halloween party. Still months away, but that isn’t about to stop anyone.

It’s so nice to talk about costumes and our favourite fanfic rather than face my heartache.

“I’m going as Wednesday Addams,” a girl named Lexa says. She’s small and shy and reminds me of a mouse. Her voice comes out at about the same volume. “I found a dress and blazer that’s exactly right in an op-shop on the weekend.”

I can already picture it. Her hair is as black as mine and would look just right braided into pigtails.

“You should go as Enid,” I tell Floss. “There’s a wig you can buy that’ll make you look the part.”

For some reason, Floss hates the warm brown curls she was born with and uses any opportunity she can to pretend they’re any other colour and style.

“Heads up,” she answers, and I frown, not understanding what she’s talking about. “Do you want to go watch the rugby practice instead of hanging around here?”

Usually, I’d be down for that in an instant. Watching the largest boys flex their muscular thighs as they hurl themselves into a tackle is always on the cards.

But my gaze finds the same reason that prompted her suggestion and I instantly dig in my heels.

Harrison is seated one bench over. His back is to us right now but at any moment he’ll turn. At any second there could be a new confrontation. If I push him hard enough, the man I saw in him on Friday night might reappear.

“No thanks,” I say in my loudest voice. “I’m good here.”

Floss puts a hand on my knee, squeezing it then letting go. “Kaden isn’t a genius at relationships,” she says in a whisper. “But he’s on the money with this one. It’s time to let things go.”

She’s right about her first point. If Kaden were a relationship guru, he might notice that his stepsister’s gaze warms ten degrees every time she looks at him… and only him.

The rest of her statement I ignore.

“Did you find a good afterparty?” I ask her.

“Brooke,” she says in a warning voice.

“What? It’s just a question.” I turn to the new girl Lexa instead. “What about you? Were you at the dance?”

“Mm,” she says, frowning in confusion at the undercurrent. “But Finn wanted to leave early to go to a gig playing in Sydenham, instead.”

“Finn Riley?” My eyes widen in surprise. He’s too slim for my taste but the boy’s hotness is still off the charts. Lexa isn’t ugly, but she’s nowhere near his level. A note of admiration sneaks into my voice. “Girl.”

She wrinkles her nose, shifting uncomfortably on her seat. “The band were fantastic.”

“Oh, the band,” Floss says with a chortle, sending me a wink. “I’m sure ‘the band’ were fabulous.”

Lexa catches the inference, and her colour deepens. I’m about to add to the tease when Everett taps me on the shoulder, large torso blocking the view of his friend. His dusty blond curls are tangled from the breeze, pale blue eyes squinting with concern. “Don’t you think it’s time you found somewhere else to eat your lunch?”

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