Page 39 of Good Losers (Lochkelvin Academy)

And Finlay, who comes to a stop beside me with a scowl, bending to stroke Captain Porthos’s head.

“This isnae yer place,” he tells me, weary.

“I’m one of you now,” I fire back.

“If it were me, ye’d be well oot o’ it.”

“Then Rory must believe in me more than you do.”

Finlay stares at me, giving a slow, sarcastic nod. “Aye. Aye, that must be it. Rory’s a being o’ pure selflessness, after all. That’s why he was busy suckin’ yer tits in the library. Oot o’love.”

His words are so caustic that it feels like being slapped with a palm full of thorns.

“You really are a bitter cunt when you don’t get what you want.”

Finlay staggers back, clutching his chest as though I’ve mortally wounded him. “Oh, no, not the C-word. Oh,nooo. It’s only the sixth most spoken word here, dinnae let it taint yer pure American lips on the way oot.”

The absolute hypocrisy of him, too, when it’d beenhimsucking face with Danny the night of the dance. Granted, he’d been drunk and nothing about his current state even indicates Finlayrememberingit, but I’m more tempted than ever to bring it up out of spite.

Instead, I scowl at him. “Why are you being like this? It’s like you suddenly hate me.”

“Because I thought ye were better,” he mutters viciously, eyebrows lowered in disapproval. “Better thanme. I thought ye were stronger against Rory. But I never knew ye wanted him like that, and I’mreallyfucked-aff ye never even telt me ye were together.”

“Sorry, I didn’t realize I needed your permission.”

“It’s no’ about permission. It’s aboutyou— flirtin’ wi’ me, kissin’ me, bein’ mine, and then fuckin’ aff to be wi’himwithoot so much as a second glance. It’s about yer increasingly mixed signals towards me, sassenach. And tae tell ye the truth, I’ve lost patience wi’ it. I’ve lost patience wi’you. So I hope ye have agreattime together because there’s no fuckin’ way I’m fallin’ for ye again.”

My mouth tumbles open. I’d been about to tell him to fuck right off and maybe go kiss some more boys around the back of the school, but in a whisper, all I manage is, “Falling for me…?”

“It’s no’ like I can fall for ye again, because I already fuckin’ fell for ye lang ago. Maybe the moment I saw ye in Moncrieff’s classroom, that first day o’ school. The best I can dae is pick myself up and dust myself doon and leave ye tae it, because it’s no’ physically possible for me tae fall for ye any harder.”

There’s a sharp whistling noise from the piste and, like a dog obeying his master, Finlay glances up.

“Are you two quite finished?” Rory drawls from the end of the piste, his mask pulled up above his eyes like a jousting knight on his break. “Some of us are waiting to fight properly.”

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