Page 26 of Spearcrest Knight

And Sophie’s used to being either mocked or ignored by the boys at Spearcrest, so I bet some guy could slip right past her defences if he was sweet enough to her.

The thought is both electrifying and infuriating.

I sneak a glance at her. She’s leaning against the window, her chin propped in her palm. I know this pose well—she always sits like this when she’s deep in thought. What is she thinking about? Her secret boyfriend?

If Sophie had a secret boyfriend, what would he look like? Knowing Sophie, he’d probably be older. Smart, polite, well-read. He’d study something pretentious, like Classics or Philosophy. He’d probably fascinate her and make her smile.

I turn my eyes back to the road, the row of glowing red brake lights ahead. Traffic into town is slow because of the almost-blinding rain, and my mind wanders, lured down a slippery path of questions. What must it be like to be this guy, to have Sophie’s attention and affection? To take her on dates and hold her hands and talk to her without every conversation being laced with insults? To spend time with her doing nothing, just listening to music or idly touching her long hair while she reads a book?

When I imagine it, my mind plays the film of a relationship with Sophie with me starring as the boyfriend.

We’re in my bedroom, and it’s my bed she’s lying on while she’s annotating some boring copy of whatever she’s studying. It’s my hand stroking the glossy length of her brown hair. I’d try to play a game on my phone but I’d be too distracted by her slight frown of concentration.

Not because I’d want to be her boyfriend, but because I can’t ever picture someone else being at the centre of her life.

She’d look up at me, and I’d notice how soft and kissable her lips are. My hand would brush her cheek, wrap around her neck, pull her slowly towards me. She’d melt into me, her mouth would open under mine, my tongue would glide against hers. Then I’d pull her to me, slide my hands under her shirt, my finger searching for—

“Stop.”

Sophie’s voice startles me so much I pull a muscle in my neck turning my head.

For a terrifying second, I’m scared I’ve been thinking aloud and that Sophie is trying to stop me from expressing some deep and disturbing desire. But she’s unbuckling her seatbelt—we’ve arrived on the high street.

Besides, if she’d heard what I was thinking, she’d probably have thrown herself out of the moving car. I know I would have.

I pull the car to a stop in a parking bay outside a florist. Sophie shoulders her backpack and pulls on her door handle but hesitates.

“Hey, uh… thanks for the lift.”

Her gratitude is unexpected and throws me off a little. I shrug.

“Anytime, Sutton.”

She doesn’t say anything else. She gets out of the car, slams the door shut and runs off in the rain. Her big boots splash into puddles as she darts across the street and disappears through the doorway of a shop. I look up at the sign, peering through the thick grey blur of the relentless rain.

Gold letters on a green sign read “The Little Garden”. The vintage style painting of a cup of coffee tells me this is a café.

I stay parked for a while, but Sophie doesn’t come back out. Nobody else walks in apart from some old ladies. If Sophie is meeting her secret boyfriend, then he’s already inside. The rain is falling too thickly to be able to see anything through the window apart from the vague glow of golden lights and the outline of plants.

For a truly stupid second, I have the impulse to get out of my car and walk into the café.

I’d know for sure then. I’d be able to see what it looks like to be someone worthy of Sophie’s affections. But if I go in, there’s no chance she won’t see me. And if she knows I followed her she’ll be understandably furious, and I’ll look pathetic. I can’t even think of a good excuse to give her.

So I turn the key in the ignition and set off home.

Even though I’m driving away feeling like I’ve just turned my back on a battle, I know better.

Because I’m not going to cede Sophie to some other guy—some insignificant nobody from some shitty British village. I’ve worked too hard to make Sophie untouchable, to ensure nobody could ever approach her on my watch.

I’m the one that fucked up this time, though.

Because I had the perfect excuse to keep Sophie close to me, and I gave it up like a fucking idiot. I didn’t realise what was at stake when I first made that deal with Sophie. It never occurred to me Sophie would seek the things she’d never get within Spearcrestoutsideof it.

Clearly, I underestimated her.

Now, all I have to do is find a way of bringing her back to me. She won't get away as easily this time.

Bullet