Page 10 of The Ring
“I’ll think about it when I finish,” I reply sharply, taking back my laptop, snapping it shut, and setting it beside me.
“I don’t even know why you bother.”
I lift my nose in the air, outraged by his comment. “Perhaps for the same reason Laurie does.” I tried to come up with a better response, but obviously I failed.
He points at my computer. “Bullshit. Laurie actually loves that shit. You don’t.”
I take a sip of my matcha to avoid looking him in the eye because, as much as I hate it, he’s right. He knows me by heart, and I hate that he knows me by heart.
I get defensive, so I take a jab at him. “So what do you suggest? That I spend my life doing nothing like you?”
He clenches his jaw, looking hurt, but it lasts only a second before he shakes it off. “Maybe. It might be better than doing something that makes you miserable.” And there it is.
This is the first time he’s ever said what I’ve always known he was thinking during our arguments about this, and what a part of me also thought. But back then, he was gentler about it, using the indirect approach.
“Weren’t you the one who, a few weeks ago, threw it in my face that I wasn’t doing anything?” I remind him, my voice tight.
He bites his inner cheek and looks away from me.
I saw him on Christmas Eve, and we had a fight a little like this, only ten times worse. At least right now, no one is yelling.I’ll never admit it aloud, but because of that fight, I decided to come back. Before, I was hoping I could milk the tragic end of our relationship enough that Anthony would let me take another term off. But after saying to him I was coming back in the spur of the moment, I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me backing down.
I decided I’ve had enough of this. I’m tapped out of yelling and fighting, and I don’t need to sit here while he criticises my life choices. Especially not in a public setting where anyone can snap a photo or record a video. The last thing I need is to wake up tomorrow and see us plastered across the front page of some tabloid.
I get up, slip my coat back on, and start shoving my laptop and all the scattered school supplies on the table into my bag.
He frowns. “Where are you going?”
“Anywhere but here,” I tell him, pulling some money from my wallet. I toss it onto the table and walk away.
Chapter 5
TJ
Iwanted to go after her, but my ego wouldn’t let me. So I stayed at the table, drinking my coffee, which arrived the moment she left. I shouldn’t have come here, but I wanted to see her. I desired it so badly that I borrowed Laurie’s phone without his permission to get her class timetable, to find out when she would be here. I even took a book from him to have an excuse to be around South Kensington at this hour.
Every term, they exchange schedules. She used to send me hers, too, but not this time, for obvious reasons. It used to bother me how close they are, especially considering Laurie used to have a crush on her. But that was just puppy love. Now, I’m grateful for their closeness because I can use it to my advantage.
I know I sound pathological, but that’s what she does to me. She’s like a drug. She gives the best highs and the worst lows, and even when she makes me feel horrible and is bad for me, I want more. Always more.
So much so that seeing her wasn’t enough anymore—I wanted to touch her. But I wouldn’t tell her that. Instead, Icomplimented her necklace and touched it, knowing full well she would unconsciously do what she always does when someone compliments her jewellery: touch it. And she did. For a few seconds, our fingers touched. The most glorious few seconds I have had in months.
In my opinion, the interaction was a step forward on the road to eventually having something resembling a cordial relationship. For once since the gala night, the air between us wasn’t so tense that you could cut it with a knife. But I ruined it. I messed it up by bringing up college and work, topics I knew were mostly off-limits between us. However, I couldn’t help myself.
For a long time, my job was to get rid of anything that bothered her or made her unhappy. I know she’s unhappy with the current plan for her future, but she refuses to tell her brother. It frustrates me because I can’t fix it. Not without it blowing up in my face. A part of me also feels guilty because I might’ve pressured her to come back. But I only did it because we were fighting and it seemed like a good comeback. Maybe if she’d stayed away longer, she would have eventually told Anthony that what he wants for her isn’t what she wants for herself. He wouldn’t be mad like my dad when I told him the same. If you knew Anthony, you’d know that the only thing he wants is for Cornelia to be happy. But Cornelia feels like she owes him because he stepped up as a parental figure for her.
I finish my coffee and pay the bill. I gather the money she left on the table, count it, and transfer the amount into her bank account.
The sun’s out in London, a sharp contrast to my current mood. With nothing better to do, I walk home and soak in the brightness. Laurie’s book can wait another day. He hasn’t noticed it’s gone. I would know if he had.
As I stroll by some houses, I notice a few still have theirChristmas decorations up, despite it being nearly February. Each one I pass only makes my mind drift further back to the last big fight Cornelia and I had.
It was Christmas Eve, and I went to Selfridges to do some last-minute Christmas shopping. Cornelia used to handle all of my Christmas shopping except for her own gifts. She loves shopping. She’d plan in advance and have every gift bought by November, each one perfectly tailored to the person’s taste. She’s the best gift-giver I know.
So it deeply shocked me to see her shopping, not just because it was strange for her, but because she was supposed to be in another country. I’d learned from West, via Annabelle, that Cornelia was spending Christmas in Paris. Now I know she was lying. I’m not sure how much Annabelle knows, but she wasn’t happy with me at the time.
For a moment, I thought I had gone mad, that I’d gone from everything reminding me of her to actually seeing her everywhere. It took me a minute to realise she was really there, looking at some Prada bags.
She looked radiant—it was so annoying.
