Page 24 of Spearcrest Knight

The more I get to know Freddy, the more I despise the boys at Spearcrest. Even though they have every opportunity at their fingertips, they do nothing with them. Apart from finding newer and more obnoxious ways of displaying their wealth, they don’tspendso much aswastetheir time.

But Freddy… Freddy isintothings. He has hopes and dreams. A personality instead of an expensive watch.

And he’s actually interested in me. We discuss movies we like and books we’ve read. Instead of constantly being on edge like I am around Evan, I can relax around Freddy, be a softer version of myself.

Things go smoothly until the British autumn sets in for good.

Clouds stack on top of clouds throughout the week. Daylight becomes as dark as dusk. By Wednesday, rain is inevitable. And on Thursday, while I sit in the taxi on the way out of Spearcrest, a booming crack startles both the driver and me.

By the time I reach Evan’s house, the clouds are gutting themselves.

Rain falls so thick and fast I don’t even know how the driver sees anything through the windshield. I thank him, get out of the car, and run over to Evan’s doorway just for the shelter of his porch.

The best I can hope for is that the rain stops eventually. I have a little umbrella, but in this wind it’s useless. Freddy is expecting me, so if the rain doesn’t stop I’m just going to brave the deluge and hope for the best.

I wait a whole fifteen minutes, but the rain shows no sign of relenting. My coat doesn’t have a hood but I have a woolly hat on, and my trusty old boots. Although both will only be able to protect me for so long, what choice do I have?

Time to brave the flood.

Evan

Iwasjustcomingout of the shower when I heard the taxi pull up outside fifteen minutes earlier. Since I had to cut my run short due to the pelting rain, I expected to hear a knock on the door any minute.

Obviously, I should have known better.

Taking a seat in my mom’s reading nook, I peer through the curtains. This vantage point gives me a perfect view of the porch. There, Sophie Sutton sits like the prideful, stubborn little thing she is.

She’s wearing a big grey coat, a hat and her big old boots, her legs tucked against her. Of course, she’s too proud to ask me to come in. Or afraid. It’s hard to tell with Sophie.

I’m not wearing my watch, but I glance around the corner at my dad’s ugly vintage Patek Philippe clock, which dominates the wall above the mantelpiece. Fifteen minutes. For fifteen minutes, she’s been sitting on the cold steps, hugging herself and waiting.

When she finally stands up, a sharp blade of triumph cuts right through me. Watching her pride shatter as she knocks on my door is going to be so sweet, and I’m already anticipating the taste of it.

Except that, of course, Sophie pulls her woolly hat deep over her head and ears, and sets off down the porch steps straight in the direction of the pouring rain.

“For fuck’s sake,” I grit out, jumping to my feet.

I’m at the door before she’s reached the end of the steps. She starts when I call out, “Sutton!”

She turns, startled. Her eyes dart down my body, then back up, almost too quickly to notice. But it reminds me that I’m only wearing boxers, a towel wrapped around my shoulders.

A flush colours her cheeks, sending a tendril of dark pleasure unfurling through my chest. I want to tell her that she can look all she likes. I’ve been playing sports my whole life, I work out on a strict schedule and I was a part of Spearcrest’s rugby team up until last year, when I had to stop due to injuries.

I know what my body looks like. I’ve worked hard to make it look that way.

So if Sophie wants to look at it, she can look her fill. Iwanther to look.

But her eyes are firmly pinned to mine when she belligerently snaps, “What?”

I jab my head up towards the sky. “You’re not going to walk to town in this?”

She raises an eyebrow. “No? What am I going to do, fly?”

I roll my eyes. For someone so smart and well-read, she can be so stupid when she wants to be. I hold the door open. “Don’t be so fucking stubborn. Come in already.”

“While you’re prancing around naked? No thanks.”

“What are you afraid of, Sutton?” I ask with a smirk. “Never seen a naked guy before?”

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