Page 145 of Almost Ours

“What are you doing here, Rubes?”

She waves towards my parents’ house. “Were you ever going to tell me you’re rich?”

“I’m not rich. My parents are.”

“That’s something only rich people say.”

I shoot her a wary look. “It’s also true.”

Ruby bends in her seat to peer up at the house through the windscreen, taking in the gates, tree lined driveway, flashy porch and twelve front-facing windows. “I mean, that’s a beast of a house, Josh. You’re, like, rich rich.”

“My parents are rich.” I correct. “And my grandparents were too."

She turns back to me. “You have never mentioned it? You sat in my tiny council flat like five days ago? God, you let mum talk to you about how the rich are parasites for hoarding wealth.”

I shrug. “I happen to agree with her.”

Ruby folds her arms against her chest and narrows her eyes at me. “You went to private school, didn’t you?”

Sighing, I look at the house too. Mum and Dad have paid someone to decorate it. There’s none of that inflatable Christmas shit or multicoloured lights flashing like a nightclub. Everything is neat, symmetrical and annoyingly tasteful, which makes the place look even more expensive than it is. “Yeah. I went to St. Peters.”

Her mouth drops open. “How have you never mentioned any of this?”

“I don’t talk about it. Or think about it. Or acknowledge it.”

She undoes her seatbelt. “Can I come in?”

“What?” My head swivels towards her. “Why?” I cough to clear the sudden anxiety clogging my throat. “What for?”

“Josh,” her hazel eyes are looking at me like I’m beyond strange. “I’ve never seen a house that big. I want to go inside.”

Money is basically the only tangible thing I have from my parents. I’ve no doubt that tomorrow my present from them will be a wad of cash in an envelope and my uni fees paid for. It’s something Dad likes to lord over me too whenever he’s really pissed off, reminding me who pays for what, who owns the house, who put the car in my name, as though every pound he spends buys him the right to treat me however he wants.

The idea of bringing Ruby in there and letting her see this world, all the pictures of James, or even worse, somehow running into my parents even though I barely see them, has me wanting to shut the whole thing down before it starts.

I rub a hand over my mouth and look towards the house. “Why don’t we drive somewhere else?”

“Why would we do that?” A thought seems to come to her and her eyes widen. “Are your parents super strict? They don’t like guests over?”

I nearly laugh, my parents probably wouldn’t care if I brought half of Lincoln Uni through the front door, provided none of us disturbed them. “No. They’re not strict. They just…” I trail off, words failing me yet again. “They’re not really people you bring someone home to meet.”

Ruby looks down at her hands as she starts picking her fingernails. “Did Bonnie meet them?”

There isn’t a single part of me that wants to answer and feed into the bizarre jealousy Ruby has of Bonnie. There is no comparison between them. Whatever I thought I felt for Bonnie is completely eclipsed by what I feel for Ruby, and honestly, if James felt even a fraction for Bonnie of what I feel for the girl sitting opposite me, then I can understand why he went after her. Aside from my own fucked-up head constantly trying to convince me I’ll ruin this, I’m not sure I’d have the strength to stay away from Ruby, not even if she was with someone else.

“Yeah.” I answer carefully, my eyes glued to Ruby’s face. “She met them. She knew them well. We all went to nursery together and stuff. Our families are close. We were friends for years before we ever got together.”

Ruby picks her nails harder. “They like her?”

I reach out and hold her hands to stop her from hurting herself. “Where are you going with this?”

She looks up at me, hazel eyes full of doubt. “I just… you dated her for years; you let her meet your parents… all things you don’t want to do with me?”

“I need you to understand this isn’t about Bonnie.” I squeeze her hands lightly. “She was there before everything went to shit. Before James died. Before I became like this. We got together when we were twelve, Rubes. I didn’t spend every second worrying about what would happen with her. I could just be. I was happy back then.”

“But what?” she asks, looking like I’ve wounded her. “You can’t be happy with me?”

“What happened to you?” I burst out, frustration getting the better of me. “Why do you do that? Why does every shitty thing I do somehow become something wrong with you?” I let go of her hands and turn to look out the window, trying to clamp down on my temper. “I don’t get it.” Shaking my head, I blow out a frustrated breath. “I disappear for two days and you think it’s because you’re not good enough. I don’t want you meeting my parents and you think it’s because I prefer Bonnie. I tell you I’m fucked in the head and somehow you hear that as me saying I don’t want you? You haven’t done anything, Ruby. None of this is because of you. Why do you always, always think it is?”