Page 26 of I Was Always Yours (RCA: Royal Crown Academy)

She sets off arm in arm with a striking dark-haired Asian girl towards an open-air market of food stands where other students mill about.

“Follow her,” I instruct the driver.

He does as ordered, the car creeping slowly after them. I suddenly wish I’d come in a less conspicuous vehicle.

We don’t get far before the car can’t follow anymore, the path turning into a walking only section.

“Wait here, I’ll be right back.”

I jump out before I can think better of it and walk around the car to the market entrance. Six and her friend are about thirty feet in front of me, going from stand to stand and looking at each menu.

I follow quietly, careful to stay at a safe distance and hiding behind people and objects as much as possible in case she turns around suddenly.

Startled glances are thrown my way, but I ignore them as I keep an eye on her. Her laughter is hypnotic, and I find it impossible to look away. Before I know it, I’m standing one person removed from her in line at a food stand.

“Hi! Does number four have any peanuts?” I hear her ask the stand owner.

“Yes, but number seven is completely nut-free.”

The conversation transports me back to two years ago; Astor and I in our kitchen and Six coming over to play around snack time. Sally, our chef, bringing out peanut butter cookies and Six saying she was allergic.

We’d turned around and asked Sally to never use peanuts or peanut products in her cooking so Six could eat freely at our house.

The wave of memories assaults me and sends me hurtling between the past and present like a bad game of tennis. That little reminder eventually brings me back to reality.

To seeing the madness of manipulating my way into coming here and then tracking her down like a stalker when she’s my enemy.

I turn away, disgusted with myself.

I let myself be distracted by her like an idiot.

I make my way to the limo and get in, slamming the door shut physically behind me and metaphorically slamming it shut on her for good.

Chapter 9

Sixtine, age 13

For years, I miss him.

Going from talking to him every day to being completely cut off overnight feels like I’ve had a limb torn from my body. It feels like I left a part of my soul in England with him, like I accidentally made him a Horcrux.

He occupies my thoughts, heroes my dreams and invades my nightmares to such an extent that, for a brief moment, I even convince myself that I see him.

It’s just a brief moment, but time stops. I’m in the middle of ordering lunch and turning to look at Nera when I see the back of a head, and something jolts in my stomach.

I freeze, my eyes trained on that head as it bobs through the crowd. The hair doesn’t even look like his, it’s longer than when I last saw him, and yet something calls to me.

There’s no way it’s him and yet...is it?

A breeze blows hair into my face, shielding my vision, and by the time I push it behind my ear, he’s gone.

“Six?” Nera calls, using the nickname he gave me and which I’ve started using more widely. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, all good,” I answer, my tone faraway.

I must have imagined him.

PART II

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