Page 41 of Spearcrest Knight

“Do you understand my frustration?”

“Understand it? I’d belividif I were you. Why don’t you send him packing?”

“I’d love to. But if he passes then I can go back to working at the café and putting money away for next year.”

“Well, alright,” Audrey says more calmly. “I see what you mean. It’s still annoying, though.”

I laugh quietly. “You’re preaching to the choir, Audrey.”

We lapse into a cosy silence, lulled by the dull rush of the rainfall. Sleep tugs at me, my eyelids growing heavy and slow, like I'm blinking through thick honey. A dull buzz vibrates through the table. Audrey picks up her phone, peers at it, puts it down. She picks it up again, pouts thoughtfully at it, puts it back down.

“Is it him?” I ask, blinking blearily at her.

She's not mentioned the boy she met over the summer holiday, but it's clear he's still on her mind and in her life.

“Mm-hm,” she says, pushing the phone away.

“Are you not going to text him back?”

“He wants to meet over the Christmas holidays.”

“I didn’t even know you two were still in touch.”

It’s a familiar story. Audrey always knows everything about us. She was the first person I told about my secret job, about Evan. And yet it always takes her the longest time to open up to us, to tell us about the things going on in her life.

It takes patience, being Audrey’s friend, but she is worth the time.

“He’s been texting me all term. Now he’s offering to come to London for the winter break. He’s even offered to pay for me to come to Switzerland if I want.”

“Is that where he lives?”

“It’s where he goes to university.”

I watch her, waiting for more information, but she seems deep in her thoughts.

“Well. Are you going to meet him?”

“Is it bad that I really want to?” she asks, finally looking up at me.

“Why would it be bad?”

“Because he’s a rich arsehole, exactly like all the rich arseholes here at Spearcrest. His parents are investment bankers, he went to a private school in France. I’ve spent all these years avoiding the boys here, but how is he any different?”

“Well… what attracted you to him in the first place?”

Audrey pauses to think, reaching absent-mindedly for her hair and pulling on a thick curl that doubles in length when she extends it. Her voice softens as she speaks, taking on a softer hue, soft as the gold and green lights of the library.

“I liked how smart he was, how well-spoken. He speaks with a French accent and he’s a little self-conscious about that. He’s sort of quiet, and a little bit shy.”

“Well,” I say, sitting back in my chair and raising my eyebrows. “He sounds nothing like the boys at Spearcrest. And even if he was, then so what? If you like him, and he likes you, and you want to spend time with him, then why shouldn't you?”

Audrey gazes at me for a long time. I can’t help but admire her hazelnut-brown eyes, her dark, smooth skin. Her beauty is unlike anybody else’s: a maturity and poise that makes her look older than she is, almost regal.

A smile dawns on her beautiful face, making it more beautiful still.

“Yeah, you’re right… you’re totally right, Sophe.”

She picks up her phone and types out a quick text. When she’s done, she puts the phone away and peers at me with a grin.

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