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“Because Vincenzo would say—and has always said—” “We keep the women out of it,” finishes a gruff voice. Vincenzo’s broad frame fills the doorway. “You think I’m a murderer, darlin’?”
“You spiked my drink, you made me think I was insane.” I’m yanked back by two firm hands, rapid Italian dragging me back to Earth. Vincenzo grasps me by the shoulders, eyes wide with alarm. “She’s fucking crazy, man. I know you hate that word, but she is.” “He’s torturing me,” I choke out, tears scorching a path down my cheeks. Alex sits up, the imprint of my palms on his neck as he sucks in a heavy breath. “She just woke up next to a body, Vincenzo, what do you think she’s gonna do? Start making a cup of tea?” “It’s preferable to accentuation!” Despite the tension of the moment, the faintest
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“I’d like to leave.” “Leave if you wish. Your first term’s fees will be due at the end of October.” My mouth drops open. “My fees? You said I was on a scholarship.” “Yes, should you complete your degree, you’ll receive your scholarship.” “What?” I rake my hand through my hair. “I obviously don’t have twenty-five thousand pounds lying around.” “Twenty-three.” “Oh,” I throw both hands in the air, “twenty-three! Excellent. You should’ve said so before, I can pay that now.” “Can you?” “No!”
“I think your T-shirt is backward.” I look down at the neckline of my jumper where the label of my top pokes out from beneath my sweater. I scowl at him. “Deliberate.” His voice drops to a husky whisper, his scent filling my nostrils as he leans toward me. “Given a rumor that we’re together holds up our dreams of being, oh, I don’t know…not in prison, maybe you should act like you’re not physically repulsed by me?” “This is me trying.”
“You didn’t like our alibi?” “I think it’s sad you had to make up a whole story just to convince people you could last an hour in bed with me.”
His sections are almost finished already, as well as half of mine. My chest sinks. I’m drowning here. I’m behind on my other modules too. “I’m sorry. I’ll catch up.” “You can repay me by not strangling me again.” Whoops. I almost forgot I did that. That whole night is a tangled mess of memory and hallucination. “It was an accident.” He raises an eyebrow. “An accident?” “Tripped and fell onto your neck. That’s how I remember it anyway.”
“How was it?” I give her a shy smile. “It was great. The big ones hurt, so…Alex is perfect.” He laughs in disbelief beside me, leaning forward to be closer to our curious neighbor. “Best two inches of her life.”
“Maybe she’s right, Twist. We should get to know each other.” “That would be pointless.” The second I hit Submit on this project, I’ll never see Alex again. “Awh, come on. I want to know things.” “Such as?” His eyes flicker with something that isn’t his usual disinterest. Sinister curiosity. His fingers drum on his lower lip. “Such as, what’s your real reason for being here?” I fire back a question of my own. “Do you get on with your father?” “Why’d you lie about who your parents are?” “Why’d you drop out of Yale?”
“My parents were in the helicopter,” I blurt out, desperate. There’s a long pause. A drag of a cigarette, and then another pause, until he finally breaks the silence. “You’re Andy Winters’s little girl?” “Yes,” I whisper, furiously wiping a hot tear from my cheek. “I just need some answers.” “I can’t tell you what you want to know,” he mumbles back. “I have a little girl too. I can’t…I can’t take any risks.” “I know. I get it. I just…I miss them.” “He…he was excited, that day. For the burgers.”
“Um…I’d better not. I have loads of classes to catch up on.” “Come on, Pheels.” “We’re not doing ‘Pheels.’ That is not a nickname.
Ophelia xx Sent from your bed. ________________ “Oh my god, Colette, you are the worst,” I grumble, as she gives it back. Vincenzo peers over and grins. “Bet he’s kicking his feet on the plane.”
From: Alex Corbeau-Green Subject: Hypocrisy (noun) the practice of claiming to have higher standards or more noble beliefs than is the case Date: Friday 11th October 21:21 BST To: Ophelia Winters “So formal” because you blocked my number. Block this email, too, and we’ll resort to fax or telegram. Enjoy the bed. There are Jelly Babies in the left bedside table. —ACG PS Catastrophically drunk before 10 p.m. is embarrassing. ________________ I love Jelly Babies.
Vincenzo Hungover? Pretty sure Colette and Magda threw you into bed and then passed out on the stairs. They really like you. Wanna get a coffee and a sausage roll? They really like me. I’m grinning as I type out my reply. Ophelia I have swimming and then social psych coursework. Thank you for hanging with me yesterday. I’ve been kind of lonely.
Vincenzo Maybe if you didn’t kill your roommates and be mean to handsome airline heirs, you’d be less lonely. Ophelia Whatever.
From: Ophelia Winters Subject: Technical difficulties (plural noun) technical problems, problems with equipment Date: Saturday 12th October 10:02 BST To: Alex Corbeau-Green I am joining the call; my laptop is just having a moment. Ophelia ________________ A reply comes back quickly. ________________ From: Alex Corbeau-Green Subject: User Error (noun) technical problems caused by the human user Date: Saturday 12th October 10:03 BST To: Ophelia Winters No problem. It always helps to lift the lid and turn the laptop on. —ACG
“You’re so weird. Like a girl in a horror movie, just lurking, never speaking.” I flash him my middle finger,
“Whoa, are you chatting to a girl?” He slaps a palm to his chest and turns around. “Oh my god, Josie. You scared the crap out of me.” Two beady, green eyes appear at the bottom of my screen. “Hello, Alex’s girlfriend, I’m Josie.” Alex glares at the little girl. “She’s not…we’re not…what are you even doing up?” “I was too excited for my birthday.”
“Sorry. She’s back in bed now.” “Your sister?” “Yeah. One of the six of them. She turns eight tomorrow.” “Six. Jeez.
a second girl appears, this one much older, with big, almond eyes and dark hair that falls to her hips. I’ve seen pictures of her and Alex on news sites before. She’s already a model. Alex doesn’t even look up. “Fleur, I’m working.” “Well, Josie came into my room and said you have a girlfriend, so obviously I had to come and see.” She waves at me and grins. “Oh my god, she’s pretty. I knew redheads were your type!” He looks up at the camera like a character in a sitcom, eyes wide with exasperation. “Let’s pick this up on Tuesday, Ophelia.” “Pretty name, Ophelia!” is all I hear before he hangs
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“I have a stalker.” She giggles. “Honestly, Vincenzo’s just too friendly. Like a puppy. He does it with everyone.”
To be loved is to be known,
“My father was asked to…tamper with the helicopter.”
“His supervisor at Green Aviation asked him to loosen some bolts on the rotor hub at the next full maintenance check. He refused, of course. He knew what would happen. He was a good engineer and an even better man. The most senior mechanic who visited Sorrowsong. But a week later, he had a visitor.”
“I was stupid. I skipped school to go shopping, and a man came and told me I’d make a good model. He said he’d take a headshot of me outside and…I was so stupid. I went with him. They sent Dad a video of me with my hands and mouth bound.” Her shoulders shake with sobs. “I think about it every day. Every minute.”
“It was the CEO. Cain Green.”
“Oh my god, Ophelia. Your man looks hot.” “He’s not my man,”
He’s the outside center, and the number thirteen on the back of his shirt seems fitting enough.
Johnny? <3
“Still good for dinner tonight?” “Can’t wait.” I can wait, actually. I’m kind of dreading it. I accepted in a moment of loneliness, when the idea of being a sad, Wall Street trophy wife sounded quite good.
one of the Sorrowsong players lifts Vincenzo by the hem of his shorts high enough for him to snatch the ball during the opposition’s lineout and toss it to the fly-half.
I love rugby & the men in their little shorts
my eyes skim over Alex, his land straight on me. They don’t leave mine as he pulls his black and white mouth guard out, or as the back of his hand slowly wipes the mud from his lower lip.
A tanned hand pulls me through the black mesh and onto the browning grass beneath the rows of seats. Footsteps hammer on the metal above my head, a titanium-white smile reflecting back at me. Shawn might as well lick his lips with the way he stares at me. I peer over my shoulder and through the mesh, at my friends wondering where I went. “What are you doing?” “I just can’t wait.” “To what?” “To kiss you.”
I swing my eyes back open. They’re met with emerald green. Alex freezes in his tracks as the black mesh falls into place behind him, staring straight at me. “Hold on. I gotta go,” he says, into the phone pressed to his muddy ear.
“Far be it for me to criticize your game, bro, but you couldn’t have picked a shitter spot for it.”
“What the fuck, Ophelia?” snaps Alex the second he’s out of earshot. “What?”
“Here’s a crossword clue for you. Two words. Five and six. First letter S. A massive wanker who pays for a tanning bed in the Scottish Highlands.” “Shawn Miller.” Man, I love crosswords. I couldn’t hold the answer in even if I wanted to. “He’s nice to me. He asks me about my day.” “Jesus fucking Christ, you’re worse than my sister,”
“Meaning?” “Meaning your standards are on the floor. If he asked you to split the bill fifty-fifty you’d thank him for paying his half.” “No, I wouldn’t.”
“It hurts.” “Not more than the silver spoon stuck up your ass, surely?” “Maybe even a little bit more.”
I’ve said Wow, that’s crazy three times and he’s still going.
My mind wanders back to my conversation with Alex. A massive wanker who pays for a tanning bed in the Scottish Highlands.
Vincenzo I’m so drunk I. Just sat. In the fireplace and set fire to a chair. But if Sleazy Shawn tries Sorry sent early If Sleazy tries anything Shawn, text me and Alex will come pick you up. He’s not drinking. He’s sober. He likes you. I know it.
Vincenzo Alex here. He’s passed out. I’ll make sure he’s fine. Enjoy your evening.
taken the Friday before last. Right before he flew back to New York. The video loads at a slow pace, until the thin frame of Elise Corbeau starts to move. She sweeps her arm over the jewelry counter of a luxury department store in Manhattan, screaming something about none of the gems being the perfect color.
“She’s been like this for years now. That family is so high maintenance.” It doesn’t take a genius to see that this isn’t high maintenance. It’s an illness.
I wish I didn’t watch to the end. I wish I didn’t hear as she cries out for someone to get her eldest son and not her husband.
Awww :(
I don’t want to go out with Shawn again. Whether I dislike Alex or not, I don’t like the way he talked about his mother.
I think about his last-minute trip back to New York. To the little blonde girl on his webcam. What was her birthday like?
“How was the date, Twist? Did he wear Velcro shoes?” I slap a hand to my chest as Alex comes out of his bedroom and locks the door. He slowly takes in my skintight dress and rubs a palm over his mouth like he’s desperately trying not to say something. “And you say I lurk.”
If he was sober when Vincenzo was texting me, I don’t think he is now. He’s standing behind me, close enough that his chest kisses my back each time he inhales. “He didn’t deserve it.” My shoulders tense. “The date?” “That dress.” I hate that his words hold the power to light little candles of confidence in the back of my mind. “Don’t say things like that.” “You look beautiful.”
I don’t dare tell him that I spent half the date imagining him pulling it off me, not Shawn.
I’m frustrated, panicked about the way his gaze alone makes me feel completely naked in the hallway. A depressing fact sinks its claws into my brain. Something in the way Alex looks at me, something beneath the anger, makes me feel pretty.
