Casting Shadows (10 page)

Flynn pulled me closer towards him. ‘I belong here.’ He put his hand on my face. I closed my eyes as his fingers stroked my cheek. ‘Nothing else matters,’ he whispered,
pulling me towards him. ‘Okay?’

‘Okay.’ I hugged him back.

This was how I loved him best. When his black mood evaporated and his whole being was focused on me . . . loving me, needing me. In those moments I felt whole.

A creak on the stairs.

I opened my eyes to see a flash of blond hair disappearing around the corner.

‘What was that?’ Flynn asked.

I was certain it was Leo. Had he been watching us? I didn’t want to spoil Flynn’s loving mood so I just shrugged.

‘No idea,’ I said, then I led Flynn into our room.

Two days before sixth form college started I went back to Mum’s for a visit. I’d been to see her every couple of weeks since I’d come to live at the commune,
but I usually only stayed one night, and now Flynn and I were living together, I didn’t even really want to do that. It was so clear Mum disapproved of Flynn and me being together that, even
if she didn’t say anything, the atmosphere in the house was always strained. Still, both Mum and Dad insisted I went.

It was weird the way Mum’s house no longer felt like home. Mum had moved my remaining things into Stone’s old room. She tried to make it look nice, hanging up a print I used to like
and putting a pretty throw over the bed, but these things just made the room feel even less personal to me. I lay on the bed, gazing at the faded blue of the walls and the little dark stains where
Stone’s posters had been stuck on with Blu-tack, and found myself feeling homesick for the commune.

At least it was fun seeing Emmi and Grace that evening. Emmi had spent a fabulous month in France and had, naturally, acquired a fantastically good-looking French boyfriend. He certainly looked
gorgeous in the many pictures Emmi had taken of him on her phone. For a couple of hours it was Jean-Luc this and Jean-Luc that, then he actually called and Emmi squealed and they had a long
flirtatious conversation – in English – about when he was supposed to be arriving the following week.

‘Of course we can,’ Emmi said. She was standing out on the landing, her mobile clamped to her ear. ‘And we have nice bread here in England as well, you know.’

Grace and I settled down on Emmi’s bed. We were painting our toenails, waiting for Emmi to come back. I was enjoying being girly after a long week tending the commune’s vegetable
patch.

I raised my eyes. ‘Sounds like Jean-Luc’s as high maintenance as our Em.’

‘So how’s it going living with Flynn?’ Grace asked. ‘My parents would
never
let me have James come live with us.’

I shrugged. ‘It’s not like we’re living in a family home, remember. We’re part of the commune,’ I explained, stroking nail varnish over my big toenail. ‘But I
love being there with Flynn.’

Grace and I charted for a bit about what we’d been doing. Grace had gone to a festival with James since I’d last seen her. Flynn and I could have gone with them but Flynn
hadn’t had the money and I wasn’t sure I really wanted to go anyway. It sounded like Grace and James had had a great time. Grace told me about some of the bands they’d seen, then
she blushed.

‘I know I said I wouldn’t mention it again but did you ever tell Flynn about what happened with James? James asked me to ask you.’

I shook my head. ‘No way,’ I said. ‘Flynn would never understand.’

‘You mean he wouldn’t believe you and James hadn’t wanted to kiss each other?’

I shrugged. ‘He’d just be mad at the idea of it.’

Grace screwed the top back on her nail varnish bottle. ‘D’you think he might wonder if the pair of you secretly like each other?’ Her fingers trembled as she set the bottle
down.

‘Oh, Grace . . .’ Was that what
she
thought? ‘You don’t . . . James and me . . .
no
. . .’ My stomach twisted into knots. I hadn’t thought
about James and me since the last time I’d seen Grace. Had she been worrying about it all this time?

It’s just been on my mind a bit.’ Grace’s voice dropped to a whisper though there was no chance of us being overheard; Emmi was still charting away on the landing to Jean-Luc,
her phone clamped to her ear. ‘I realised I was grateful that you hadn’t, you know, gone any further with him.’

What?
My mouth dropped open. ‘No. James didn’t
want
me, Grace. It wasn’t like that. And I didn’t want him. Not that he isn’t lovely
but—’

‘If you’d wanted to, I bet he’d have done it.’ Grace’s mouth trembled. ‘I mean, the way you look, what guy wouldn’t want you?’

‘You’re kidding.’ I stared at her, genuinely amazed. ‘James is totally in love with you. Anyway, you’re ten times prettier than I am. Look at you. You’re like
a supermodel.’

Grace shook her head. ‘I’m not like you and Emmi,’ she said matter-of-factly. ‘It’s fine, Riv, but I’ve seen the way guys look at you. I know James loves me
but it would still be tempting for him . . . that’s all . . .’ She tailed off, looking miserable.

I hugged her, feeling simultaneously confused and relieved and guilty. How could Grace think for a second that James would be interested in me, when he had her? Is that what Flynn would think,
if he knew? That I was secretly all into James?

I drew back. ‘I swear James has never done anything to make me think he liked me like that,’ I said. ‘And you can tell him that I haven’t said anything to Flynn.’ I
paused. ‘And that I really don’t want him to say anything either.’

‘Sure,’ Grace said. ‘But maybe Flynn would be more understanding than you think?’

I shook my head. ‘No way.’ If sensible, sweet-natured Grace had got upset at the possibility of James and me fancying each other then what on earth would passionate, volatile Flynn
make of it?

I went back to the commune the next morning. College was going to start the next day and Gemma took me into Norton to buy a jacket. The shops here weren’t anywhere near
as cool as London stores but it was fun hanging out with Gemma. The more time I spent with her and Dad, the more I appreciated how lovely she was, like a still pool of water, keeping calm in the
face of all storms. I’d even plucked up courage to ask her about losing her baby earlier in the year. There were tears in both our eyes as Gemma confessed she had cried recently, thinking how
the baby would have been due around now. She also admitted that she and Dad were hoping she would get pregnant again soon, though she was eager to reassure me that no new arrival would ever take
precedence over me and Stone. I came home, back to the commune, really hoping, for the first time, that Gemma and Dad would have a baby. A little brother or sister would be so cool.

The next morning, Flynn, Leo and I took the bus to the sixth form college for our first day. Before we left, Dad gave me a peck on the cheek then turned to Flynn. ‘Look after her,’
he said.

It was just a small thing but it was nice that he said it.

Flynn nodded. His expression didn’t change but I could tell he was pleased too. He and Dad had really bonded over the summer. I’d seen them many times working silently and happily
together on shared jobs like mending the fence in the south field or checking over the sheep.

Flynn took my hand as we got off the bus. Leo walked behind us as we strolled along the street and into Norton Napier College. The main building was square and modern with clean, concrete walls.
I’d liked it as soon as I’d seen it for the first time earlier in the summer: all the rooms smelled of fresh paint and were laid out as a grid, with clear signposts everywhere.

Flynn, Leo and I found our way easily to the secretary’s office, despite the corridors teeming with teenagers. I knew there were only 180 students or so in the whole school – ninety
in each year – but it felt like all of them were swarming past us. I noticed most of the girls were taller than me – and almost all wearing jeans or sweatpants. I was glad I’d put
my jeans on rather than a skirt, and that I was wearing a simple black jumper – nothing too showy or obvious. Flynn looked cross, which I knew meant he was feeling a bit awkward, but he was
still chatting quite normally to me. Of the three of us, it was Leo who was having the worst time. I glanced at him as Flynn opened the secretary’s office door. He was actually shaking.

‘Hi,’ Flynn drawled. ‘They said we should come here.’

‘I’m Mrs McCudden.’ A short, plump woman with wispy grey hair and a harassed expression bustled over to meet us. She shook our hands, then asked for our names. She found me and
Leo on the lower sixth list straight away. ‘Yes, River Armstrong and Leo Maxwell. No need to be nervous.’ This was directed at Leo, who had gone white as a sheet. She handed us each a
form. ‘Just an extra bit of paperwork, then down to the hall for your induction.’

Leo and I sat down on the sofa with our forms. They were straightforward questions asking about contact numbers and checking home addresses. Two girls and a boy on the sofa opposite were filling
in forms too. One of the girls looked up and smiled at me.

Mrs McCudden turned to Flynn. ‘And your name is . . . ?’

‘Flynn,’ he said.

‘Ah . . .’ Mrs McCudden reached for another list. ‘Upper sixth . . . Patrick Flynn. Is that right?’

‘Just Flynn.’ Flynn glared at the unfortunate Mrs McCudden.

She blinked distractedly. ‘Sorry?’

‘Just Flynn,’ he repeated slowly. ‘My name. Flynn. I’m not writing Patrick on anything.’

‘Whatever you like, dear.’ Mrs McCudden handed him a form, then bustled back to her desk.

A minute later we were all done. Leo and I joined Flynn as he handed his form in.

‘So the three of you live on a commune?’ Mrs McCudden said brightly. ‘That must be interesting?’

Flynn ignored her. Leo looked down at the form he’d been filling in as if he might be sick all over it.

‘That’s right.’ I smiled. ‘Just a couple of miles away. My dad’s been there a while.’ Mrs McCudden and I charted for a few minutes about what living on the
commune was like. Then the door swung open and a young Asian man with glasses and sleek black hair peered round.

‘Patrick Flynn?’ he said.

Mrs McCudden bustled out from behind her desk again. ‘This is Mr Shukla,’ she said to Flynn. ‘Your tutor.’

Mr Shukla grinned and held out his hand to Flynn.

‘Hi, Patrick.’

‘Flynn,’ said Flynn, crossing his arms and looking mutinous.

I held my breath. I had often wondered how Flynn had managed to get every person at his old school to call him by his last name. Now the answer was obvious. He simply intimidated them into
it.

‘O-kay, Flynn,’ Mr Shukla said, still holding out his hand.

Flynn shook it very briefly, then picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder. He glanced at me. ‘See you later, yeah?’

I nodded. He disappeared out the door. A moment later Mrs McCudden directed me, Leo and the other lower sixth students present to the hall. The whole year was here. After a short talk from the
head, we were divided into four tutor groups. I was very relieved that Leo and I were in the same one. I gave Leo – who still looked very nervous – a reassuring smile as our tutor
introduced herself as Ms Ransome from New Zealand. She seemed really nice – young and friendly – and wore a tight angora jumper that I couldn’t have imagined on any of my old
teachers at Langton. I liked her immediately Leo, I noticed, didn’t appear able to meet her eyes.

After Ms Ransome had checked us all against a register, she led us down the corridor to our tutor room. Having a surname beginning with A’ meant, as usual, I was at the head of the
line.

‘So you live on the commune?’ Ms Ransome asked, as we walked along. ‘I’ve heard about it but I’ve never met anyone who lived there before.’

I started in on a repeat of the conversation I’d had earlier with Mrs McCudden. As we went inside our tutor room, Leo caught up with me and whispered, ‘D’you think
anyone’s going to talk to us about anything other than living on a commune?’

His face was even paler than usual, his eyes still sick with fear, but at least he was smiling.

I grinned back. ‘It’s not that bad,’ I said. ‘Don’t sweat it, we’ve got each other, remember.’

Leo nodded gratefully, as Ms Ransome asked us to sit. The tutor room wasn’t anything like the old-fashioned classrooms at Langton. A row of lockers stood along one wall, with shelves
opposite and a horseshoe arrangement of tables and chairs in between. Leo and I sat together, as Ms Ransome explained that the college was closely linked to the local comprehensive, which meant all
but a handful of lower sixth students had come from the same school. I gulped when I heard this. I’d kind of assumed that everyone in our year would be strangers but it was already obvious
most of the other students knew each other well.

‘You’ll use this tutor room for general studies and free periods,’ Ms Ransome went on. ‘And now I’m going to ask everyone to introduce themselves. Just a name will
do at this stage.’

I felt nervous but when it came to my turn to say my name no one looked at me oddly. In fact, as I gazed around the room, I felt more confident than I had all morning. The tutor group was about
twenty strong, half-half boys and girls. The girls were watching me, mostly with open, fairly friendly expressions on their faces. This was encouraging and I forced my mouth into a hint of a smile.
The boys seemed to be giving their attention equally to me and Ms Ransome’s chest. All except Leo, who spent the entire session staring at his shoes.

Ms Ransome gave out maps and timetables, then we headed off for our first lessons and the rest of the morning passed in a blur. I went to meet Flynn in the cafeteria at lunchtime. The college
let you come and go as you pleased outside lesson times but Dad had given us tokens to buy a meal from the canteen on our first day. For the future, Flynn and I planned to go out as much as
possible and bring our own food to eat in the local park.

The cafeteria was heaving when Leo and I walked in. I looked around, trying to make Flynn out. And then he was there, beside me, pulling me into a kiss.