“I’ve just got to pop to the office for one minute. Don’t move,” Mr Jones ordered in his monotone voice and left the room.
The second the door closed, Julian got up and walked over to me. I sighed as he sat on the chair beside me, pulling the chair out and getting comfortable.
“Leanne’s having a party on Friday, you wanna go?” he asked, swinging one leg onto the table.
He knew I was with Cole, so either he was delusional or had a selective memory. “I’m trying here, Oakley.”
That was true. He was trying. I just wasn’t sure it was enough. I didn’t understand why he wanted to be friends now. I shook my head but smiled gratefully, or I tried to anyway. It was very hard to act normal with him, especially after what he’d done at my party. And no matter how hard we tried to be civil, I would never forget how he had made my life hell for years.
The door swung open, making us both jump.
“Get lost,” Cole growled, glaring at Julian as he slipped into the room. Julian glared and stuck his middle finger up to Cole, before returning to his seat.
“What?” Cole said innocently me innocently, surprised at my look of reproach. I smiled and shook my head.
“So, detention, huh?”
“We got it for talking.” Julian interrupted.
Cole frowned at Julian angrily.
“Are you trying to be funny?”
I grabbed his hand and shook my head.
“Wait, you really got detention for talking?” he asked in disbelief, and started laughing. I sat back in the chair with my arms crossed over my chest and waited for him to get over it.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, shaking his head. “Just pretty ironic.”
You’re telling me!
Without warning, Cole leant over the table and pressed his lips to mine. Every kiss from him made me melt. My heart soared, and I kissed him back. He pulled away just a few seconds later and walked out of the room with the biggest, cheekiest grin I had ever seen. I couldn’t help smiling to myself.
Thankfully, Mr Jones didn’t get back from whatever he was doing until after Cole had left. I did briefly worry that Julian would tell him, but he didn’t. He didn’t do anything actually. Just stared at his phone and frowned.
When detention was over, I made my way to the bench outside the front of the school to quickly eat my sandwich before my afternoon class started.
“Oakley?” a female voice called. I looked up to see Abby jogging towards me. What on earth is she doing here? The last I had heard she was studying teaching at University in London. Does Jasper know she was back?
“Hey.” She smiled warmly and sat down. “Isn’t this great, I managed to get my work placement here! I’m so glad I get to see you again. I’ll be helping out in some of your English lessons so we can catch up,” she gushed, practically bouncing on the spot.
I smiled sarcastically. Did she really expect me to be happy about this? She was the reason my brother had cried – Jasper never cried. She was the reason why he couldn’t trust women any more and behaved like such a jackass. I hated her for hurting him so much. This day just keeps getting better and better, I thought sarcastically. This wasn’t even the worst part. I still had dinner with the doctor to get through yet.
Chapter Eighteen
Oakley
I sat awkwardly at the dinner table. Jasper sat beside me and glared at Mum’s doctor friend, Sadie. The atmosphere around the table was tense. We all knew why she was really here, although no one said anything.
“So, Oakley, how are gymnastics going? Your mum told me your instructor thinks you could be Olympic material.”
I sighed. Marcus had said that, but I would have to put in a lot more time and to me, gymnastics wasn’t about winning trophies. The escape and my love for it was all I was doing it for.
“Don’t be shy, sweetheart. You’re so talented.” Shut up, Mum!
“Why is it called cottage pie anyway? I mean I get the shepherd’s one for the lamb, but what’s cottage and beef got in common?” Jasper mused, staring at the large oven dish in the middle of the table. Grinning in amusement, I poked at my carrots. It only took one look from Mum to make Jasper sit back and eat quietly. I appreciated him trying to take the attention off me though.
Sadie’s casual questions kept coming. What classes did I like at school? Did I have a nice time on holiday? Who were my favourite football team? She never asked me anything directly, but I knew what she was doing.
When the conversation turned to my childhood, I knew I didn’t have long left before the more personal questions were asked. Mum had gotten her photo albums from the bookshelf; she had a separate one for every year of our life.