“Yeah,” said Lucy. “All the teachers ever talk about now are the exams. They’re really laying on the pressure.”
“They are,” I said. “They keep saying that if we screw this up, that’s it. It’s all over—” I stopped and looked at Candela. She had a glazed look on her face, and I couldn’t tell if she was even listening.
“Do you guys want a drink?” she asked, distracted.
“Sure,” I said. Candela got up and made her way to the kitchen.
“Do you think she’s okay?” I whispered to Lucy. She turned to look at me, a worried expression on her face. “I don’t know,” she mouthed, with a shrug.
We heard the fridge door slam shut as Candela made her way back to us, with a couple of Diet Cokes. She passed them over to us, before sitting back down again.
“So what’s new with you, Candela?” asked Lucy, as she flicked back the tab.
“Well,” said Candela, “I’ve started seeing this guy.”
“You have?” I asked.
“Yeah, his name is Dirk. I think you met him at the housewarming.”
“The biker guy with tats all around his neck? Seriously, Candela?”
“Why, what’s the problem?”
“Isn’t he, like, forty or something?”
“Thirty-five.”
“So he’s basically twice your age?”
“And your point is?” She shot me a defiant look.
“He kind of gave me the creeps, Candela,” I said quietly.
She glared at me. “Well, maybe you’re just too sensitive.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I snapped.
“Hey, we should go out for dinner next week,” Lucy cut in quickly. It was clear she was trying to change the subject before it escalated into an argument. “Just the three of us. We haven’t done that in ages.”
“Okay,” I said.
“Sure,” said Candela, with a noncommittal shrug of her shoulders.
Something in her tone made my anger flare up again. “Don’t come out with us if you don’t want to, Candela. There isn’t a bloody gun to your head.”
“Jeez, Audrey, calm the hell down. What’s your problem?”
“You’ve been so distant since you moved out. I don’t hear a thing from you. You don’t answer my calls or text back.”
She stood up, glaring down at me. “It’s always about you, isn’t it, Audrey? Why don’t you just get over yourself for a second and see that people have lives of their own. The world doesn’t revolve around you.”
“Oh, shut up. I’m the one having to pander to you. I’m sick of being the one doing all the chasing. I’m not asking you to make me a priority—I know you’ve got a lot going on. But at least meet me halfway.”
She opened her mouth to speak but stopped. Her expression told me something I said had sunken in. “Look,” she sighed, sitting back down. “I know I’ve been distant. I’m just messed up about Ana—even if I don’t always show it . . . I’ve been trying to get away from anything that reminds me of her.” She clasped my hand in hers and then reached for Lucy’s. “The two of you—you’re like sisters to me. I love you both; that will never change. But I need to forget for a while—to be away from Three Oaks, from Barrett, and that god-awful bottle-green uniform.” Her eyes flickered over my school dress. “I just need everything from that part of my life to disappear for a bit.”
Her words brought on a heavy feeling in my chest. Until now, I was unable to grasp the depth of Candela’s suffering. I wanted desperately to be there for my friend, but not if my presence was causing her further pain.
“If you need your space, Candela, we’ll respect that,” said Lucy quietly. “But at least come to graduation. Please? It would be so weird not having you there.”
I winced at the desperation in Lucy’s tone, but I felt the same. Everything was dull without Candela. Nothing felt as special.
“Of course I’ll be there,” she said with a tight smile. There was a troubled look in her eyes. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Eight
It was the day of our exams, and I could barely stomach anything as I sat down at breakfast.
“Nervous?” asked Dad, sliding a pancake onto his plate with a fork.
“Yeah.”
“So what’s first on the agenda?”
“English in the morning, and then we have history after lunch.”
“Well, at least you’re starting out with the two subjects you’re good at,” said Mum.
“I suppose.” I frowned as a fresh wave of anxiety gripped my stomach.
“So there is really nothing to be nervous about, is there?”
I stiffened. There was something in her tone that was irking me. I think Dad must have noticed because he shot her a warning look.
“Edwina,” he said, “I’m sure Audrey will knock it out of the park, especially with English. But you know as well as I do that examinations are scary as hell, even at the best of times.”
“Thanks, Dad.” I gave him an appreciative smile.
“Aren’t you going to eat anything?” Mum asked.
A car horn sounded outside.
“Duck’s here. I’ve got to go.” I grabbed my school bag and slung it over my shoulder.
“Good luck, Audrey,” my dad called after me.
The atmosphere was unusually subdued as the teachers lined us up and led us into the hall. I walked past the desks and chairs that stood in neat, evenly spaced rows, my heart pounding in my chest. I took my seat and glanced over at Lucy, who was sitting near the front. She smiled and waved at me, then mouthed, “Good luck.” To my right, Duck, with a pen in his hand, was staring intently at the clock that hung on the far end of the hall.
Mr. Sadowski stood up and took us through the rules as my history teacher, Mrs. Douglas, placed a sheet of paper facedown on my desk. As I stared at the blank white sheet, I felt a wave of panic. Desperately, I flicked the rubber band around my wrist, but it was akin to throwing buckets of water at a raging inferno. The walls around me began to shimmer and shrink. I was hyperventilating, hunched over my desk. Duck was at my side in a flash, and I felt his hands grip my shoulders. His voice was faint and recessive, like a signal dropping in and out. “Audrey . . . Audrey, what’s wrong?”
I stood up blindly, my chair scraping loudly against the parquetry floor. I could sense a hundred pairs of eyes on me, and I couldn’t stand to be looked at—not for another second.