Page 102 of Spearcrest Knight

Sophie

Astrangesenseoffinality settles over me after my fight with Evan, like something between us is now irremediably broken. I don’t quite know why I feel this way, because things are no more broken than they have always been.

The added dimension of sex—or whatever happened in the study hall—might be the reason behind my heightened emotions. Arguing with Evan and making out with him both leave me with the same sense of mingled victory and loss.

Is that what sex always feels like? Like winning pleasure at the cost of losing a part of yourself?

That night, even though I try really hard not to, I cry myself to sleep.

The following day, I finally respond to Freddy’s text. I had forgotten about it until my argument with Evan, and guilt overwhelms me after I text him. But he texts back almost immediately, and we arrange to meet for dinner at the weekend.

The implication of meeting him for dinner is not lost on me. Instead of anticipation, all I feel is guilt. Would I have remembered to text Freddy back if I hadn’t been reminded of him by Evan’s unexpected outburst of jealousy? Would I have agreed to meet him if it wasn’t to prove to myself I don’t want Evan?

Am I just using Freddy as a weapon in my war against Evan?

I don’t want to beat Evan by becoming just like him. Someone selfish and self-serving, who uses others to get what they want and dismiss them as soon as they’re done.

Still, as I get ready to meet Freddy, I can’t shake the guilt clinging to my skin like a parasite. I wear a plain black dress, boots and red lipstick, but I don’t go overboard. The more effort I make, the more it’s going to feel like a date, and the more this feels like a date, the more nervous I’ll be.

No, this isn’t a date. This is me giving myself a chance to experience being with someone who doesn’t make me feel like shit, someone who is actually nice to me. Someone who doesn’t play games or treat emotions like chess pieces.

The air is icy and crisp when I arrive in Fernwell, and I spot Freddy as soon as I enter the restaurant. True to form, he’s on time and waiting for me at the front of the restaurant. He’s wearing jeans, a thick jumper and a woolly coat. His dark hair is ruffled by the wind, his cheeks and nose are red from the cold. I rush over to him and he greets me with open arms and a wide smile.

His hug is warm and comforting, and he leads me into the restaurant with a friendly arm around my shoulders. It’s lovely—like being with the girls. I shake the thought away.

“How’s the Little Garden?” I ask as we sit at our table. I expected to be nervous, but Freddy’s presence is so calm and warm I can’t help but feel comfortable.

“It’s a little chaotic, I must admit.” Freddy grins. “With you gone and Jess focusing on her studies, it’s pretty much me riding solo at the moment.”

“I’m sure the old ladies of Fernwell don’t mind.”

Freddy laughs. “No, I’m sure they don’t. I just don’t know that there’s enough of me to go around.”

“Mm… so many old ladies, so little time.”

“Right!” Freddy chuckles then shakes his head. “I mean I’m definitely the consolation prize, because they keep asking about you. Seems you made quite an impression on them.”

I’m sure he’s saying this to be nice, because those old ladies worship the ground he walks on. And as we sit and eat and chat and laugh together, it’s so easy to see why. Freddy is everything one would want in a person: well-spoken, compassionate, friendly. Nothing he ever says feels forced, strategic or calculated.

But the more time passes, the more restless I become.

Because I’m not blind, or deluded, or naive. Freddy is warm and comforting like a warm cup of tea—but a cup of tea has never set my heart racing, or made my blood pump through my veins, and made me so painfully turned on I would have done anything for it.

Everything about Freddy is the opposite of Evan.

Where Freddy is a safe harbour, Evan is a dangerous storm. Where Freddy makes me feel like nothing bad could happen to me, Evan makes me feel like I’m constantly on the verge of having to fight for my life. Where Freddy makes me feel soft and comforted, Evan makes every part of my body pulse with adrenaline, with tension, with anticipation.

Am I broken? Am I so used to the insane pressure and pain of battling Evan Knight I can no longer get excited by kindness and affection? Everything I’ve done with Evan has been reckless—every time we touch feels perilous, precarious, volatile. Handling him is like cupping gunpowder in your bare hands while you’re on fire.

I remember his words the last time I saw him. “He’ll never make you feel the way I do.” I had been so desperate to prove him wrong.

But meeting with Freddy only did the complete opposite.

After dinner, Freddy walks me all the way to the bus stop. We walk shoulder to shoulder, talking about exams, trading study tips, discussing the books we’ve read this year, a new exhibition at the National Gallery he wants to check out. When we get to the bus stop, he hugs me again and I swallow nervously, wondering if he expects something more, wondering what I’m going to do if he tries something.

But Freddy breaks the hug and says, “I’ve had a great evening. I’m honestly so glad I got to see you, Sophe. I was a little worried about you.”

I shrug and smile. “Don’t worry about me. I’m tough—you know that.”

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