JAMES
At this point, the drawing that extends across my sheet looks quite impressive. The sharp black teeth, small spirals, and uncontrolled circles almost seem three-dimensional. It's as if I could just reach out and grab the image. I'm always amazed by everything that can come out of doodling. And how well it distracts. For example, from the fact that my boys are on the playing field less than a hundred meters away, practicing for next weekend's game. Or the fact that I still have to spend an hour and eleven minutes in this room.
"James!" I look up. Everyone on the committee is looking at me. "What?" "He hasn't even heard!" Jessalyn exclaims indignantly, looking at Ruby as if it's her fault that I don't feel like these pointless meetings. "Then I'll say it again," Ruby says calmly, looking at me from the opposite side of the table. "We need costumes for our poster photo. There's a rental company in Gormsey, but it's obvious the dresses aren't original, just plastic." "Gormsey?" I ask, puzzled. "It's where I was born," she responds patiently.
This is the first time I've heard that name.
I find myself wondering what kind of house Ruby must live in. What her parents are like. If she has siblings. Matters that shouldn't interest me.
"Last time we said we wanted to take the most authentic photo possible. But it's not so easy to find quality clothing. Beaufort has been around for over a hundred and fifty years, right?" She's trying hard to speak to me kindly, but that doesn't change the familiar cold feeling running through my veins. I suspect what's coming next. "Do you think you could ask your parents if they would lend us a couple of pieces of clothing?"
I wish I could continue doodling in my notebook. Or be somewhere else, playing lacrosse, for example. There, no one asks anything of me, I can just run, compete, dribble, shoot at the goal, and be free. In the field, I can forget. Here, they remind me who I am and what awaits me in the future. I clear my throat.
"Unfortunately, I can't."
It seems as if Ruby already anticipated this response.
"Okay. Can I ask why?"
"No, you can't."
"In other words, you don't want to help us," she says with forced calmness.
"There's no difference between 'wanting' and 'being able to.' My answer remains the same."
Her nostrils flare slightly as she tries to remain calm. She doesn't quite succeed, and in a way, I find it amusing. I try to ignore the fact that she's really pretty. I've never seen a face like hers: her perky nose doesn't fit with the proud expression around her mouth, her cat eyes don't match the freckles covering her nose, and neither does the straight bangs with her heart-shaped face. But, surprisingly, everything fits perfectly. And the more I look at her, the more attractive she becomes.
I can't explain why I lost control like that yesterday. It wasn't the first time someone threw in my face that I'm a miserable rich kid. It wasn't the first time that Ruby, in particular, threw it in my face. I don't know why her words affected me so much, but they stirred something in me... and I didn't like it! I don't recognize myself like that... and neither do my friends. None of them have mentioned what happened today, yet I expected them to laugh it off, to tease me about how I reacted and thus make light of the matter. But, with their silence and expressive looks, they've given even more weight and importance to Ruby's words.
I sigh inwardly. Damn, I wanted to enjoy my last year of school, not worry about anything or anyone, and just have fun, that's all. Instead, I can't play lacrosse, I have to meet with this crappy group, where the atmosphere is pitiful, and I have to endure Ruby telling me that...
Ruby snaps her fingers in front of my eyes...
"Sorry," I say, rubbing my face with both hands. "What?"
"Guys, we can do without him," Kieran says angrily.
"I could do without you too, but unfortunately, I have to put up with you until the end of the term," I reply, looking at him coldly.
"James!" Ruby exclaims indignantly.
"What's wrong? I'm just being honest."
"There are moments in life when honesty is out of place."
I have on the tip of my tongue to reply, "Look who's talking." But I restrain myself. In a way, I find it attractive that she speaks to me with such severity. This is probably because I haven't partied with the guys for two weeks and I have too much pent-up energy.
I urgently need to think about something else. Trying to go unnoticed, I take my phone out of my pants pocket and send a message to the group.
"Tonight, party at my place."
"Let's go pick up the clothes at the rental company, and that's it," Lin suggests. "With a little Photoshop, we'll fix them to look authentic."
Kieran sighs.
"This is absurd. James Beaufort is on our team."
"Then, if James doesn't want to help us, I'll inquire at Beaufort myself," Ruby suddenly says.
"You won't," I absentmindedly say without taking my eyes off the phone: Alistair just messaged me about how bad the new players are and how the coach is going crazy.
"You can't forbid me, can you?"
I absolutely do not want her to talk to my parents. I don't want anyone near my parents. It's almost impossible when you consider that their donations fund a not insignificant part of this school and they show up at all the parties. But just the idea of Ruby approaching my father turns my stomach.
"Do you really want me to inform Lexington at the weekly meeting how little you get involved?"
I slowly look up and squint at Ruby. I can't believe she's seriously trying to blackmail me. If I weren't so angry, I'd be impressed.
"Do what you want," I growl.
For the remaining time, I ignore her, and no one else speaks to me. Furious, I draw circles and sharp objects in my notebook from which small monsters with sharp teeth holding lacrosse sticks in their claws emerge. When Ruby ends the meeting, I get up so quickly that Camille, who is by my side, gets a fright. I'm almost at the door when Ruby stands in my way.
"Could you stay for a moment?"
"I'm in a hurry," I say through gritted teeth.
I try to avoid her by stepping to the side, but she also slides to the side.
"Please."
She no longer has the exasperated tone she had a couple of minutes ago. Now she seems tired, as if she's just as impatient as I am to finally leave this room. Maybe that's the reason I nod and make space for the others. But maybe it's also because I'm thinking about Director Lexington and the fact that I want to avoid participating in these committee meetings for longer than necessary with all my strength. Kieran is the last to leave; before closing the door, he gives me a strange look. If I had to bet, I'd say he's jealous of me. Interesting...
Ruby clears her throat. She leans on one of the tables, crossing her arms.
"If you're angry with me, don't take it out on the team. The others can't do anything, and it's a nuisance to make their work difficult."
Thinking about the previous day almost makes me feel bad. I remember every word she said. But I don't want her to know that what she said upset me, so I respond coldly to her gaze.
"I'm not angry at you."
"Well, you don't exactly give off a particularly friendly impression."
I look at her, raising my eyebrows.
"We had a stupid argument in a workshop, Ruby Bell. A debate that at a certain point seemed too stupid to me. What do you want?"
"I just wanted to apologize. I behaved unfairly, took it personally, and I'm sorry."
"Okay, this is not what I expected. I need a moment to find the right words."
"You think you're very important if you still think about that."
She blinks several times, obviously taken aback by my sarcastic response.
"You know what? Forget it, that's it."
"You don't have to apologize to me just because you want something from me."
"I'm not apologizing because I want to ask you for something, James," she protests, "but because I truly feel sorry. Yesterday, I was... I was mean."
We gaze at each other for a while, and I try to discern any hidden intention in her gaze. But I find none. Her expression is open and honest. I briefly weigh my options. I could continue to ignore her and act as if I don't care about what she said, but then I risk her really speaking badly of me to Lexington and prolonging the time I have to spend in this committee. Besides, I realize that it's not true that she wants to do that. Arguing with Ruby Bell is extremely tiring. I think everything will be easier if I make concessions.
"Okay," I finally say.
Suddenly, the atmosphere is no longer filled with anger like it was two minutes ago. I feel like I can breathe again, and Ruby's shoulders also seem more relaxed.
"Good," she responds.
For a few seconds, she seems undecided, as if she doesn't know what to do. Then she nods and returns to her desk. She takes her planner, opens it, and crosses something out. I wonder if apologizing to me was the first item on her to-do list. It wouldn't surprise me.
In fact, I could leave now. We've said everything we needed to say. I don't understand why I don't move from my spot and instead, I stay watching her gather her things. Everything seems to have its place in her dreadful backpack, and watching as a file, a notebook, markers, a water bottle, and finally the planner disappear step by step inside is strangely comforting, almost hypnotic.
"How many costumes do you need for the poster?" I suddenly hear myself ask.
Ruby pauses in the middle of a gesture. She slowly turns her head to look at me.
"Two," she says cautiously. "One for a man and one for a woman."
I see her trying in vain not to get too hopeful, and I decide not to keep her in suspense for too long.
"I'll ask my parents for them," I announce after a brief pause.
Ruby's eyes light up, and it's obvious that she's struggling to keep them from shining.
"Really?"
I nod.
"Are you happy now?"
Ruby closes the backpack and slings it over her shoulder. She takes a few steps toward me.
"Thank you. It's a great help."
I shrug, then we leave the group room together for the first time since I joined the committee meetings.
"The planning is going very well, isn't it? For Halloween."
She looks surprised. I'm equally surprised by my question. Why on earth am I not leaving?
"Actually, yes. But I don't think I'll be able to sleep soundly until the party is a success."
"Why do you attach so much importance to it?"
She reflects for a couple of minutes before responding.
"I want to prove that I'm good at leading the team. That I deserve this position. I had to fight to join it and then I had to fight again to not let Elaine overwhelm me." She gives me an apologetic look. "I know you're friends, but seriously, I wasn't a good team leader. I don't want all the work and enthusiasm I've put into the committee, and that I continue to put into it, to go to waste."
I mutter something thoughtfully and she looks at me inquisitively.
"I'm thinking about whether there's something I'm so passionate about."
"Lacrosse?" she asks.
I shrug.
"Maybe."
We descend, cross the library, and exit, and for the first time, I become aware that the activities that seem so absurd and cumbersome to me are an important component of other people's lives.
"By the way, what time is it?" Ruby suddenly asks.
I check my wristwatch.
"Almost four."
She mutters a curse under her breath and rushes off.
"I'm going to miss the bus!"
Her green backpack jumps onto her back, and her brown hair flutters in the air as she runs quickly towards the bus stop.
I head to the parking lot where the driver awaits me in our Rolls-Royce. Suddenly, asking my parents for the clothes doesn't seem like such a heavy burden.
RUBY
My phone vibrates just as I'm sitting with my parents and Ember in front of the TV watching The Voice Kids. I take it out of my pants. The button to unlock it gets stuck for a good while, and I feel like I have to press it a little harder every day. When the phone finally understands the command, I am stunned. I have received a message from an unknown number.
The costumes for the poster are ready. They can be picked up tomorrow in London. J.
"I can't believe this girl is only eight years old," my mother's surprised voice resonates in my ear. "Why don't either of you know how to sing?" my father asks. "I would have taken you to a show like this." "Our talent manifests in other fields, Dad," Ember replies. "Oh, really? What can you do?" A muffled sound leads me to look up. Ember has just thrown a cushion from the sofa at my dad. He bursts out laughing. "My blog has over five hundred followers, Dad. I can sew, and I can show people that with a body like mine, you can wear whatever you want. That's something, right?" "Over five hundred already?" I ask, surprised. My sister nods laconically. Since we fought, we haven't talked much. Ember is still very angry because I refuse to invite her to the next Maxton Hall party, so I completely missed her reaching this major milestone. "That's awesome. Congratulations," I say. I don't understand why my words sound forced, as I say them sincerely. Ember has been working on Bellbird for over a year. She puts so much effort and love into the blog that she deserves to succeed with it. "Thank you." Ember looks down at the remote and starts fiddling with it. "Do you think Ember could show up there with her sewing machine and participate in the competition?" my father suddenly asks.
"Or maybe you could give a lecture. It would be great if you could explain to those people what you've taught us- comparison with Voldemort included and all that so everyone can understand."
Ember lets out a loud laugh.
"I don't think that would work, Dad. It's a musical show."
"Ah. Yes. It's a good point. And what about Britain's Got Talent? It's a talent show, and if what you do doesn't fit there, then tell me what does. If needed, we'll invite your five hundred followers to be the audience. And then we'll all cheer you on together."
"Of course!" I agree. "Go and sign up with your sketches on one of these shows. I'll make some colorful tags and distribute them to all your followers."
My sister grimaces. I stick my tongue out at her. Her eyes start to sparkle, and a cautious smile begins to form on her lips. At that moment, I feel like everything is back in order. We've made peace silently, as always. I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.
My father says something else, but just then my attention is drawn back to my phone, where a message lights up again. I go to reply, but then quickly delete what I've written. I don't know how to react. The idea of traveling with James to London and spending a day with him, outside the boundaries that Maxton Hall normally sets around us, seems strange. Strange, but also... exciting, if I think about it more deeply. I type a couple of words again.
Suddenly, a cushion lands on my face.
"Hey!" I exclaim.
"We hadn't finished our discussion, Ruby," my father points out in a serious tone. "Participate in it."
"No, Dad, I can't sing, and no, I'm not going to attend a talent show so that you can all laugh at me."
"Hmm," he says, looking thoughtful at me while Mom makes a sound of satisfaction. "Such a young girl with such a wonderful voice."
"There are other ways to win in a competition like that. If the sewing machine doesn't work, we could also learn to juggle."
"If you're so determined to participate in a talent show, you should enter on your own," I say dryly.
"You know what? Maybe I will," Dad replies with a feigned tone of obstinacy.
"And... in what field?" absent-mindedly asks Mom, who doesn't take her eyes off the screen.
"How about...?"
Danny Jones, one of the judges, presses the button, and his chair starts to turn. Mom cheers, and Dad also raises his arms euphorically.
Ember and I look at each other and burst into laughter at the same time.
"Do we have anything planned for tomorrow?" I ask after the girl has left the stage and the atmosphere has calmed down a bit.
Dad shakes his head.
"No, why?"
"We're planning the Halloween party and looking for costumes. A schoolmate has been able to get some outfits, and he's asking if we're going to pick them up in London tomorrow."
"It's a two-hour trip. Is your dreadful classmate driving, or are you going by train?" Mom asks.
I raise my finger to indicate they wait a moment. Then I type the response.
Okay. How are we getting to London? R. B.
I hope he understands that my initials are meant as a joke.
My driver will pick you up around 10. Okay? J. M. B.
For a moment, I'm about to Google James just to find out what the M stands for, but I stop myself. That would also be crossing another boundary. I don't want to know everything about him on the web. There are already hundreds of rumors circulating in school. I have gossip about James Beaufort for the rest of my life.
"It seems my schoolmate has a driver," I respond later.
"A driver?" Ember asks incredulously. "Oh, he must be one of those posh types."
"His family owns Beaufort."
"Are you going to London with the Beaufort boy?" Dad insists, sounding a mix of surprise and distrust.
I nod slowly.
"Yes. We can get the outfits from his store."
My father frowns.
"And you're traveling... just the two of you?"
"Enough, Angus," my mother interjects. "Leave Ruby alone."
"What's going on? If she has a date with a boy, I want to know."
I feel myself blush.
"I don't have a date with a boy, Dad. It's a school thing."
He grunts. Ember, on the other hand, stares at me wide-eyed.
"This is incredible," she reclines back on the sofa and crosses her arms. "Oh my. You have no idea how lucky you are, Ruby."
"I'll take photos for you," I reply, but Ember keeps her eyes glued to the TV. "So, can I go?" I ask my mother, feeling she's the only sensible person in this living room.
"Of course," she says, giving a warning look to my father when he opens his mouth again. "You're old enough to decide with whom, when, and where you go."
For some reason, her words make my cheeks blush even more. Not paying much attention, I type a response:
Okay.
By the way: instead of champagne, I'd prefer Ben & Jerry's. R. J. B.
P. S.: You needn't add another initial!
I hesitate for a moment and wonder if I can really send a message like this. James and I aren't close enough to joke with each other through chat. Or are we?
No, we're definitely not.