Chapter Nine

The voice cut through the chaos like a blade and for a second the grip in my hair loosened just enough for me to drag in a ragged breath. Kate stood there with both hands locked around Lydia’s wrist, her face set in a way I had never seen before. She was smaller than Lydia but the fury in her eyes made her look twice as tall.

Let her go right now.

Lydia snarled and tried to yank free but Kate held on. Around us the circle of students tightened. Phones came out. Whispers started. Someone laughed too loudly. I could feel every eye on my face and the wet heat of tears that refused to stay put.

Then another voice arrived, deeper, colder, and the entire front lawn seemed to freeze.

Get your hands off her.

Isaac pushed through the crowd with Lane half a step behind him. His black shirt was slightly wrinkled from the press of bodies and his hair still looked like he had run his hands through it too many times. The second his gaze locked on Lydia’s fingers twisted in my hair something dangerous flashed across his expression.

Lydia released me at once as if the strands had burned her. I stumbled backward and Kate caught my shoulders, steadying me. My scalp throbbed. I could still feel the phantom pull of those fingers.

Isaac stopped three feet away. He did not look at me. He looked only at Lydia.

Explain.

She opened her mouth, closed it, then tried again. She was going to ruin everything. She told you not to drink. She is trying to come between us. Everyone knows she has been throwing herself at you since the term started.

The lie landed in the middle of the silence and hung there. I wiped my face with the back of my hand and forced myself to stand straighter. Kate’s grip on my arm stayed firm.

Isaac’s jaw flexed once. He turned his head just enough to catch my eyes. The question in them was clear. Are you hurt.

I gave the smallest shake of my head. It was enough.

He faced Lydia again. You do not touch her. Ever. Do you understand me.

She stared at him as if he had spoken a foreign language. Isaac.

I said do you understand.

The party noise had died to almost nothing. Even the music inside the house seemed quieter. Lydia’s cheeks burned red. For a second I thought she might slap him the way she had once slapped me. Instead she spun on her heel and shoved her way back through the crowd. Students parted for her like water. Eva and Lola trailed after her looking pale.

Isaac exhaled through his nose. He glanced at the nearest phones still recording. Put them away. Now.

Most of them lowered. A few kept filming until Lane stepped forward and the remaining screens vanished into pockets.

Kate spoke first. We are leaving.

Isaac nodded once. I will walk you to the gate.

No, I said. The word came out thinner than I wanted. You do not have to.

He looked at me fully then. The intensity of it made the rest of the night fall away for a heartbeat. Yes I do.

Kate squeezed my arm. It is fine. Let him.

We started moving. The crowd parted again, slower this time, curiosity still thick in the air. I kept my eyes on the ground until the front lawn gave way to the gravel path that led toward the main road. The night air felt colder now that the adrenaline was draining out of me. My hands would not stop trembling.

At the gate Isaac stopped. Lane hung back a few paces giving us space. Kate hovered close but not too close.

You should have stayed away from her, Isaac said quietly. His voice had lost the public edge. It was lower now, almost careful. She is not finished. She never is.

I know.

Why did you stop me from drinking.

I told him. The words came out in a rush, low enough that only he and Kate could hear. Mia and the others. They had something. One drop. They said it would make you go to whoever your body wanted most. They were going to put it in your glass. I saw her hand move. I could not just stand there.

His expression did not change but something behind his eyes went very still. You are certain.

I nodded. I heard them. Eva and Lola were with her. They asked if she was sure it worked. She laughed and said of course it was her.

For a long moment he said nothing. The wind moved through the trees beyond the fence. Somewhere an owl called. When he finally spoke his voice was almost soft.

Thank you.

The two words landed heavier than they should have. I looked down at my borrowed dress, at the grass stains near the hem from when Lydia had yanked me sideways. You should tell someone. The school. Your father. Anyone.

He gave a short humorless sound. My father would turn it into a political problem. The school would bury it to protect their golden families. And Lydia’s father sits on the board. There is no clean way through this.

Then what.

I handle it.

The way he said it left no room for argument. I wanted to push anyway. I wanted to ask how a seventeen year old planned to handle girls who carried substances meant to strip away free will. But the look on his face warned me the subject was closed for now.

Kate cleared her throat. We should go. Curfew is in twenty minutes and I do not want another mark on Charlotte’s record.

Isaac stepped back. He looked at me one last time. Get some sleep. Lock your door.

I will.

He turned and walked back toward the house with Lane falling into step beside him. I watched until the darkness took them.

Kate linked her arm through mine and we started the long walk toward the dorms. Neither of us spoke for the first hundred meters. The night felt too large around us.

Finally she said, You saved him.

I did not feel like a savior. I felt scraped raw. She would have done something worse if I had not been there.

Maybe. Or maybe he would have figured it out. But you still did it. That counts.

We reached the girls’ dormitory entrance. The night prefect was already checking names. Kate signed us both in with a smile that looked almost natural. Upstairs the hallway lights hummed their usual tired song. My room was at the far end, smaller than most, the one with the cracked window sill and the view of the practice fields.

Inside I locked the door and leaned against it. Kate sat on the edge of my bed and watched me.

Talk.

I do not know where to start.

Start with the part where you ran across a packed party to stop a boy from drinking something that was not his choice. Or the part where his girlfriend tried to scalp you in front of half the school. Or the part where he looked at you like the rest of the world had stopped existing for three full seconds.

I slid down the door until I sat on the floor. My scalp still ached. The broken pieces of Dad’s necklace sat in their little box on the windowsill, catching the thin moonlight. I stared at them while I spoke.

I keep thinking about what Mom would say. She would tell me to transfer. She would say the McCall name is a storm and people like us drown in storms. She would be right.