Part 57 (1/2)

”What have you said to her?” growls Will.

”I'm sick of pretending I don't want her. Cutting to the chase.”

”Your brother has joined you in the obnoxious w.a.n.ker stakes and asked if I want to f.u.c.k him.”

”What the h.e.l.l?” yells Will. ”You b.a.s.t.a.r.d!”

Nate stumbles and giggles again. ”Just trying to help, man.”

”f.u.c.k. s.h.i.+t. I'm sorry!” I blink at Will. Why is he apologising? ”Are you okay?” he asks.

”Why shouldn't I be?” I snap. ”I don't care what he says or thinks. Either of you!”

Nate rests an arm on Will's shoulder and focuses on me. ”I love you, Fleur. I want you. You're the air that I breathe, the woman of my dreams, the Oof!” He trips backwards as Will punches him in the stomach.

”p.i.s.s off! You're upsetting Fleur!”

This is not happening. Really isn't. The people around are silent amongst the growing volume from my select pair of a.r.s.eholes. I pull together the remnants of my dignity.

”You.” I poke Nate in the chest. ”Never come to my study group again. Ever. If I see your smug face anywhere near me I swear I will break it.”

”Study group.” He looks at Will. ”Rock and roll, man.”

Shaking and fighting tears, I push past the gathering interested people and head in the direction of the exit. Look how easily I was fooled into thinking Nate Campbell had respect for me. I was right. He is interested in me, but as a conquest, and there I was falling into the trap. I'm b.l.o.o.d.y glad he opened his drunk mouth tonight and showed his true colours.

15.

WILL.

The last time I physically fought with Nate, we were thirteen. He kept losing when we played against each other in World of Warcraft, and my goading p.i.s.sed him off so much he hacked my account and deleted my character. Six months of my life, gone.

I punched Nate. He hit me back, harder. Mum separated us and we didn't speak for a week.

We don't fight a lot any more, but some memories stick. Like when we were eight, Nate deliberately broke my Harry Potter Lego Hogwarts I'd spent two weeks building. Sounds b.l.o.o.d.y stupid now, but I cried. When that amused him more, I almost broke his nose.

If I do something or have anything better than him, Nate acts out. People think twins are special, but at the end of the day, we're like any other brothers apart from we look the same. We fight and we make up. I regret tattooing my arms to match Nate's and now, we've s.h.i.+fted to compet.i.tion over who gets the best chest tattoo. Otherwise known as, who can take the most pain.

Being a twin has its advantages, but mostly it sucks. The more I grow into my own ident.i.ty, the worse Nate reacts, as if I'm trying to be better than him by choosing to be different.

Since Ruby Riot's popularity grew, he's s.h.i.+fted the compet.i.tion to girls; and recently, I've edged away from that too. I became sick of him crowing about how he picked up the best looking, had the best s.e.x, and that bulls.h.i.+t. Yeah, having girls throwing themselves at me is awesome, but I'm bored of repet.i.tive, unemotional s.e.x. I want one girl. Even Jax is becoming p.i.s.sed off with Nate's att.i.tude. I always thought Jax would be the big-headed a.r.s.ehole if we became famous. Nate has that crown.

Last night, I came closer than I ever have in years to smacking him in the face. In the end, I walked away. Partly because there were too many witnesses to the spectacle and Fleur was already embarra.s.sed, and partly because at the end of the day, this is all my fault.

I'm gutted my behaviour led to Fleur's humiliation at the hands of my d.i.c.khead brother. I questioned his motivation, but he shrugged me off, said he was drunk and didn't mean to go that far. I know him. Nate's actions were deliberate. The atmosphere in the house is icier than when the heating failed last winter.

I'm left with one option.

Explain everything to Fleur, ask Nate to apologise, and stop this before I really screw things up. There'll be other girls. She's not one of a kind.

Who am I kidding? When I say I want one girl, I mean specifically Fleur.

I'm not dumb enough to attend the study session on Thursday; my death wish isn't that strong. Six days since the gig, perhaps she's calmed down?

Yeah, right, Will.

Turns out, I am dumb enough.

I sit on a desk outside the room we meet for study, resting my head against the pinned notices. I flick through my phone messages. We're close to alb.u.m launch now; all this uni bulls.h.i.+t could be over forever soon. I will sit my finals though, if only to have the pleasure of saying I told you f.u.c.king so to my parents. Look at me, I can gain a degree and be a rock star.

I snort at how funny that sounds.

The PR company are filling the oncoming weeks with fun and games. Attempting to schedule interviews, TV appearances, both in the UK and overseas. Since the tour with Blue Phoenix ended, we've been s.h.i.+elded from all the publicity while we wait for the alb.u.m release. What happens next? More craziness to match the tour earlier this year?

The door cranks open and Sam steps out. ”You're late, man,” he says. ”Why didn't you come in?”

Nita swerves past him with a smile and wave, and I nod at her, eyes on the doorway.

”Ah. Complicated. Need to talk to Fleur.”

He winks. ”Gotcha. Wondered why she was cagey about where you were.”

When his tall frame moves from the door, he reveals a stony-faced Fleur. She barely glances before slamming the door behind her and stalks away.

”Fleur!”

I call her name a couple of times, weaving through people heading between lectures, as she strides across campus. I catch up, aware there's amus.e.m.e.nt at the rock star chasing Fleur across the courtyard.

”Fleur. Please.”

”p.i.s.s off.” She trains her eyes ahead.

Wow, I never expected those words from her mouth.

”Let me explain. Apologise.” No response. I walk backwards attempting to catch her attention and she grips the strap of her messenger bag. ”Please.”

The silent treatment continues, as does my backwards walking, and I trip over a low wall behind me. As we reach the period buildings housing the history department, she pauses.

”I do not have anything to say to you. Do not follow me into here.”

The expression on her face tears at my heart. Sour-faced anger and thin-mouthed distance would be bad, but her eyes s.h.i.+ne with tears as she attempts to stop her mouth turning down. I worried she'd be p.i.s.sed off with me, but this is a thousand times worse. Fleur is still hurt.