Page 20 of Spearcrest Knight

I think about it. Evan’s height and gold skin and broad shoulders. His dangerous grin and summer sky eyes. Those big arms, that mop of loosely-curled fair hair. His long strides, easy laughter and pretty teeth. Evan is gorgeous like he’s from a movie, gorgeous like he knows it and feels no shame, with a sort of laid-back arrogance.

Where Evan is like the ultimate American rich kid cliche, Freddy is comfortingly British. Brown hair, grey eyes, big jumper. A kind, open smile. Not good-looking in the captivating, electrifying way Evan is, but… normal. Warm.

Safe.

If I had to be honest, I know whose name I would have to say to Audrey. But I don’t want to be honest. So I don’t give an honest answer.

Instead, I give the answer that feels right.

“It’s Freddy.”

Burn

Evan

OnThursdayafternoonI’min the hallway getting ready for a run when I hear the taxi pull up outside. I wrench the door open. Sophie is out of uniform today, and it completely throws me off.

It’s not even like she’s dressed particularly provocatively. If anything, it’s the opposite.

She’s wearing a big, ugly, baggy jumper, like someone’s grandad would wear, a short black skirt, black tights, old black boots. Her hair is loose around her shoulders and a little wind-ruffled.

When she sees me, her face immediately scrunches into a frown.

“I like your jumper,” I call out from the doorway against which I’m leaning. “The boomer vibe is a good look on you. Really suits your miserable personality.”

“I’m not here to get fashion commentary from a guy wearing shorts in this weather,” she says.

I glance down at myself. I’m wearing a long-sleeved top and loose shorts. It's not so much an outfit designed to be stylish—I'm only wearing what's comfortable for running. In reality, I could go running in a tank top and hot pants and still not be cold. I spent a big portion of my childhood winters in Cape Cod; British autumn doesn’t even come close.

“Don’t know why you’re complaining,” I say. “You get to check out my legs.”

“A gift I never hoped for,” she deadpans. “You might even say a gift I never wished for.”

“Please, Sutton, everyone in Spearcrest knows you want me.”

She rolls her eyes. “A rumour invented by you and spread by you. Bit embarrassing, if you ask me.”

“Don’t they say there’s an atom of truth to every rumour?”

“Not this one. But well done for knowing what an atom is. You’re not as dumb as you look.”

I give her my most charming grin. “I never said you wanted me for my brain, Sutton.”

She sighs, walks up to stand at the foot of the steps leading up the door, stretching her hand out.

“Talking of things I don’t want, do you know what else Idon’twant?” she says. “Your homework. But here I am.”

If I’m honest with myself, I completely forgot about asking her to do my homework. My mind got a little sidetracked after she left.

I definitely expected a lot more of a fight on that issue, and I’m not about to pass up the opportunity to get Sophie Sutton to do my schoolwork for me.

“Alright, come in!” I call, then run inside to go grab my backpack where I dropped it in the atrium, by the 17th century Greek statue my dad won last year at Sotheby’s.

“It’s in here somewhere,” I call over my shoulder when I hear Sophie approach.

She doesn’t reply, and I end up pulling out every notebook, booklet and handout I stuffed into my bag throughout the week. I hand them over to Sophie, who looks at the messy pile with open disgust.

“What on earth am I looking at?”

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