Page 13 of Almost Ours

“Bonnie,” Ewan says carefully, hands up like he’s trying to calm a feral animal. “You know what you did. I don’t think this is the best way to handle it.”

Her head snaps toward the ginger boy so fast I’m surprised her ponytail doesn’t fly off her head. “I know a thing or two about you, Ewan. So, I’d keep your mouth shut if you want to keep the peace.”

Bloody Nora, she’s a vicious cow!

Ewan blinks, stunned. “What the hell does that mean?”

Bonnie ignores him. She’s locked on Josh again, an unsettling energy emanating from her. “We will talk about this!”

“Take the fucking hint, Bonnie!” Josh hisses—and this time, he loses his cool. His careful exterior melting completely away. “It’s not even a hint. I’m outright telling you to fuck off. I don’t want to be rude to you, I don’t want a scene, I want peace. I’ve had enough drama and crap to last a lifetime, so do me a favour—take your conversation, your chats, your apologies, and fuck off back to whatever emotionally inept place you crawled out of.”

Woah.

Bonnie swallows, looking between the four of us as the fight slowly drains out of her. She looks small and completely human. I feel a flicker of guilt at the sight. For all I know, he did something awful and she’s here trying to fix it.

But the way Josh reacted to her, the way Ewan braced and Brooke practically folded into herself, reminds me of how we all reacted to Harriet on New Year’s Eve, right before I punched her.

Whatever happened between them, Josh is the one who got hurt.

Badly by the looks of it.

Bonnie looks at me last, her face full of something mean and ugly, before she turns and storms off, her Uggs smacking the floor like an angry toddler.

We all watch as she leaves, none of us saying a word. When the door of the café slams shut behind her, I exhale slowly, leaning back in my chair.

“What,” I ask the table quietly, “the fuck was that about?”

Chapter Four

Wednesday

October 7th 2015

Joshua:

My head is a carousel of fuck, fuck, fuck.

What the fuck is Bonnie doing here? She was supposed to go to Bristol, and I was supposed to go to Oxford. We weren't meant to end up in the same city, never mind the same university.

She can't be here. Not in my space. Not in my life. Not anywhere close to me at all.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I don't need to check it to know who it is. I silence it through the denim without looking, my jaw tight.

Bonnie is the reason my brother is dead, and if I have to see her face every day, I don't think I'll survive it.

I know everyone thought I was being dramatic when I screamed at her in the middle of school, telling her I'd never forgive her and to stay away from me, but they don't know the truth.

Only I do.

And I vowed to keep the secret for her and for James. I wanted to protect him, even after he was dead. I wanted to keep people from seeing the worst thing he ever did.

My twin brother was sleeping with my first love behind my back. I’m not even allowed to be angry at him for sleeping with her, because I'm too angry at him for leaving me. It's been nearly three years, and I still feel like someone pulled the floor out from under me. I should be getting better by now. The grief should be easing off.

It feels like it's getting worse.

Choosing Lincoln Uni instead of Oxford—which is where I was meant to go with him—was supposed to be my clean slate. But here I am. Right back in the same fucking hell I was shoving behind me.

I hate knowing that if I could have him back, I wouldn't care that he slept with her. I wouldn’t care if they were in love. I wouldn't care about any of it. Every problem in my life would shrink into nothing, because the agony of not having him is bigger than everything else combined.