Page 16 of The Fall I Fell

‘I can’t wait.’ Jacob grinned.

‘Me too.’

Chapter 9

Now

The bus to college is supposed to be pulling up in the village in three hours, but already I sit on the edge of my bed with a sickness in my stomach. There’s another message from Dad already on my phone:

Have a great first day!

I always loved school. But I loved my school, with my friends, doing subjects that I actually chose. Now I’m hundreds of miles away, and everything has changed. As much as I appreciate the voice notes Freya sends me to keep me updated with any gossip, it’s not quite like the real thing.

I grip the duvet cover in my balled fists and it creases with the force and dampness of my hands. I can’t do it. I can’t walk into that college and pretend everything is okay. I can’t walk out of this room and act like it’s not killing me.

For an hour, I stare at the walls, sending myself crazy with panic. My heart pounds as my chest rises and falls until my vision is blurred from the tears.

Not knowing where else to turn, I take out my phone and dial the number I’ve learned by heart.

‘Hello?’ Freya’s tired voice flows through the speaker.

‘Are you awake?’ is the only reply I can think to give her and I picture her rolling her eyes on the other end.

‘I am now. What can I do for you?’ The sound of her voice now only reminds me how much I’ve missed her, how much I really need her.

‘You could come and fetch me if you like,’ I try and joke, but my laugh comes out like the depressed deflating of an old party balloon.

‘That bad, huh?’ She sighs. ‘You know I would if I could, Ava, but I don’t think the tube reaches that far. I’m sorry.’ And I believe her. If she did have the means, she’d be here before lunch, but she’s just as stuck as I am. ‘What’s happening?’

‘I’m supposed to start college today …’

‘Ah,’ she says.

‘How am I meant to just start again, Freya?’

‘You aren’t starting again. You do know that you still have all of the same friends, right? We’re just a little bit further away. And in that place, you’re not starting over. It’s already full of happy memories,’

‘And sad ones.’ I interject.

‘You’d be sad about those same memories whether you’re in London or Timbuk-bloody-tu,’ she chides. ‘Ava, you’ve always got London, and you’ve always loved the farm. And you’ve got Callum – he’s starting afresh too. And what about Jacob, won’t he be in the same year? That’s a good thing, surely?’

Hearing her say his name so directly makes me blink a few times before I can process her meaning.

‘Everything has changed so much. I hardly recognise Jacob any more.’ The thought of his cold shoulder makes me shudder. I tell her all about him not coming to dinner, and the tractor, and Pen, and she listens intently before tutting loudly on the other end.

‘Why is it that boys go through puberty and all of a sudden, they stink? And yes, I mean literally and figuratively.’ Her bluntness makes me chuckle, and some of the dread dissolves from me a little. ‘Look, Ava, I’m not going to pretend everything is going to be perfect, and finishing your fashion A-level on your own is utterly insane. But if anyone can do it, it’s you. I know how hard you work. I know how much it all means to you. All of this is just one more obstacle to tackle, and no matter how exhausting it all is, I know you’ll get there. I know you’ll smash it. Just stop thinking about everything around you for one second and remember who you are.’

‘What if it’s all for nothing and I don’t even get in?’ I think again of my empty inbox. My dream school has gone radio silent.

‘Don’t be stupid. Of course you’ll get in. They’d be a fool not to accept you. And then you only have one year surrounded by various kinds of animal dung before you’ll be living it up in Milan like the diva you were born to be.’

‘The animal dung isn’t so bad, you know. You get used to it quite quickly.’ I chuckle, unable to find the emotion to address the serious parts of her speech.

‘I’ll take your word for it.’

Once our goodbyes turn into another conversation, and I spend another ten minutes on the phone, I am suitably inspired. Freya always knows what to say to make me feel better. When we finally hang up, I sit with her words for a moment, feeling each and every one.

With renewed strength, I get dressed, pull my portfolio from the wardrobe, and head straight out the back door for a little reminder of who I am. I find my way to the treehouse almost instinctively. I suppose, even when everything with Jacob feels so different, the treehouse is still the space I’ve always been safe. The knots and branches, no matter how much they age, have helped me get through so much, hidden me from so much, that it is the only place I can think to go when it all gets too much.