Page 97 of Spearcrest Knight

But I don’t say anything.

Ultimately, I know Mum and Dad mean what they say. They do want what’s best for me. They have offered me an opportunity not many people like me get to have. They’ve always worked hard to make sure I’d be looked after and never have to worry.

It would be easier to say everything I want to say if they were worse parents. But they’re not.

So I swallow everything back until I’m suffocating, until I can barely eat through the lump in my throat. When it’s time to go home, I thank them, hug them, and leave with my words still stuck in my throat.

I wake up the next morning exhausted and shaky. I’m off my game for the rest of the day: I turn up too late to catch breakfast in the dining hall, I’m distracted in my Maths lesson and my free period is spent rereading the same few sentences of my book of critical theory on Austen. I arrive for my Literature class ten minutes early, so I lean back against the wooden panelling of the wall, letting my head fall back and wondering whether I could sleep standing if I just closed my eyes.

Before I can close my eyes, I catch a glimpse through the glass door of one of the other classrooms. I recognise Mr Houghton, gesturing passionately as he explains something to his students. Moving slowly and carefully so nobody notices me, I peer inside the classroom. It’s definitely a Year 13 class; I recognise most of the students. It doesn’t take me long to spot Evan.

He’s easy to spot, with his bright hair shining like a beacon in the morning sunlight, but that’s not the reason I notice him.

I notice him because every single student in the class is bent over their desks, diligently taking notes as Mr Houghton speaks. Every single student—apart from Evan.

His exercise book isn’t even open, his copy ofPersuasionsitting closed next to it. His elbows are propped against his desk and his chin rests on his fists. He’s staring out of the window.

I watch, frozen in fury, as Mr Houghton says something that makes all the students bend forward to annotate their book. Evan, though, just sits completely still, staring out of the window. He doesn’t even glance at Mr Houghton.

After all this, after everything… Why am I even shocked that Evan doesn’t actually give a shit about Lit? It’s not like I believed his blatant lies about wanting to improve. I knew he was lying then, so why am I so shocked now?

Seeing it with my actual eyes, how little he cares and how blatantly he lied to me, somehow brings everything into crystal clear focus for me.

All the work I’ve put in this year—all the time wasted on him just so he can do nothing at all. Evan is exactly what I always knew he was: a spoilt, selfish, deceitful arsehole with not a thought to spare for anyone or anything that isn’t him.

A strange calm settles over me.

I sit calmly in my Lit class until the end, and then I calmly walk over to the other side of the building and knock on Miss Bailey’s door. She calls me inside, and I sit down across from her. I tell her I can no longer tutor Evan, and that if there is no way out of tutoring him then I would like to resign from the academic mentoring programme.

Miss Bailey immediately goes into a state of panic.

“Oh, no, Sophie, there's no reason to quit!” she says, throwing up her hands. “I know you asked me to find somebody else for Evan, and I’m so sorry I didn’t! I’ve been so busy—but that’s no excuse, I know. No, there's absolutely no need to quit the programme.”

She reaches for her glasses, which are resting next to a box of chocolate biscuits, and checks her computer. “Right, let’s see what we can do.”

I sit rigidly facing her. An icy sort of triumph fills me. I’m finally going to be free. After today, I never have to see Evan, speak to Evan or think about Evan ever again. It doesn’t exactly solve all my problems, but it’s exactly what I need: a symbolic victory against an untouchable foe.

“Right, well, Beatrice has just started tutoring Zachary Blackwood. He’s on target to achieve his predicted grade but he wants to achieve top marks in Literature since he’s applying to read Literature and Classics at Oxford. I suppose you could take Zachary and Beatrice could take Evan?”

I’m only swapping one Young King for another, but at this point, I’d take Luca Fletcher-Lowe, the devil himself, if it meant getting away from Evan.

“That’s fine.” I take a deep breath, trying to project assertion and determination. “I would like to start straight away, please.”

Miss Bailey nods. “Well, Beatrice has been telling me she doesn’t think she can help Zachary much since he’s already doing pretty well, so I’m sure she won’t mind. Alright, I’ll let everyone know what’s happening, hold on.”

She makes a note in her planner then puts her pen down and looks up.

“Are you alright, Sophie?”

I nod and stand. “A lot better now, Miss Bailey, thank you.”

“Did something happen between you and Evan?”

I smile. “Nothing I can’t handle. And now that I’m done with him, I don’t even have to worry about it.”

“Right…” Miss Bailey says with a slight frown. “Well, if you ever need to talk, you know where to find me.”

“Of course. See you later, Miss Bailey.”

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