“This isn’t a story. This is Neve’s life.” I could have applauded Ruby, but hugged her instead.
“Thanks, Rube. Look, I don’t know how it’s going to turn out. But who does? Life throws shit at you sometimes. I just know I want to be with Jake when it does. That’ll do for now. I’m not na?ve enough to expect it will be plain sailing to a happy-ever-after.” Of course, that was what I wanted, what I hoped for, but Kema wasn’t the person to admit that to. “More importantly, who wants ice cream?”
After we had shared the tub of chocolate deliciousness, Kema left and the three of us moved to Ruby’s room. Sitting on her bed, surrounded by candles and incense, we again pretended to study. Ruby was the first to admit defeat.
“I’ve had enough. I know I’m doing well enough to pass these courses and that’s all we’ve got to do this year.”
“True. I’m thinking about swapping to just American Studies at the end of this semester,” I shared.
“Really? But I thought you loved English Lit? Don’t get me wrong, it’ll be great to have you in more of my classes, but don’t rush into anything. There’s a few weeks until you have to confirm next semester’s choices.” Mickey surprised me with his sensible advice.
“Why do you want to swap?” Ruby asked.
“I’ve just been thinking about it and I prefer those classes. The only thing I’m not sure about is the year in the States. You have to do that if it’s your major.” I knew it would be difficult to spend a year in America without Jake. But I also knew we could survive it.
“So, it’s nothing to do with Garrett, then?”
“No. Not really. Not much.” I knew the real answer to Ruby’s question, just as much as she did. It was a hopeless lie.
“If it is, you can sort that out. You shouldn’t change your course just because he’s being so vile.” Ruby’s comment had me intrigued. We hadn’t talked much about him after I ignored her initial warning.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you know, with the things he’s saying.”
“The things he’s saying? What the hell is he saying?” I had taken his silence as a positive thing. It turned out he wasn’t being so silent after all.
“Oh, God. I thought you knew.” She looked at Mickey, whose face gave away his lack of surprise.
“You knew? Why didn’t you say something?”
“I didn’t want to mess up the weekend for you… and I’d hoped it would just go away. That he would go away,” he admitted.
“What would? What has he been saying?” I needed to hear it, however bad it was. And it was bad.
Garrett was spreading rumours, lies, about me. Both Mickey and Ruby had heard them via friends of friends. Apparently, I was a sleazy tramp of a girl: we’d even been caught almost having sex by the seafront. Apparently, I sought out rich boys for rough, dirty sex and then made them buy me things: things like dresses from posh shops. Shit. The glimmers of truth to the rumours were enough to make the whole thing all too real.
“Why are people believing him? You said he’d spread rumours about that other girl. Don’t they know what a bastard he is?”
“Possibly. But he’s also charming. And rich. People want to be liked by him. So they side with him and play friendly. At your expense.”
“What do I do?”
“Nothing. They’re rumours. As soon as people see that you don’t have anything to do with him, or any other guy here, they’ll forget it. What are your other options? Take him on? The girl never wins in a slut-shaming contest, Neve.” As pissed off as I was by what he said, I knew Mickey was right.
I needed to lay low and that fitted in with my plans for the next couple of weeks. I wanted to clear all of my work so I could spend some undisturbed time with Jake when he came down. I’d go to classes and stay close to my room. Things would calm down.
Yeah, right.
Three days of self-imposed isolation later, my Victorian Literature tutor asked me to stay after her seminar. As the other students left the classroom, I was nervous. I’d never been someone to get into trouble at school, and the serious tone of her request made me anxious.
She took a seat at right angles to me and took out the essay I had handed in a couple of weeks earlier. I breathed a sigh of relief, believing it was just a personal feedback session.
“I’ve had to grade this a Fail, Neve.” What? I’d never failed an English assignment in my life. My horror must have been clear on my face. “I know that is hard to hear, but you must have expected this could happen. It was a calculated risk, after all.”
“What? I don’t know what you mean? What risk?”
“Colluding on an essay. We know that many students study together, but the university made it very clear in the induction programme that all assignments must be completed individually. You’ve had clear information on the regulations around collusion and plagiarism.” I knew that. But I didn’t know why she was telling me that.