“And who do we have here?” a voice suddenly comes from behind us, and I jump away from Zack, breathing hard. I know that voice.
Bracing myself, I turn to see the bride and groom coming towards us. Amy’s eyes flick between me and Zack, disapproval all over her face.
FIFTY-FIVE
LAYLA
Rob looks even more like Josh up close. He’s smiling brightly, and I can see he has the same dimples as his brother. But it’s not him that I’m focussed on.
Amy winds her arm through Rob’s and studies me assessingly, her expression blank. A trickle of cold goes down my spine as she narrows her eyes at me.
“Layla Thompson,” she says slowly. “What on Earth are you doing here?”
I open my mouth, but no words come out.
Rob grins, slapping Zack on the back. “Thanks for coming, man. Didn’t expect you to make it, if I’m honest.”
Zack laughs. “I never miss an open bar. Congratulations, guys.”
The two of them start chatting happily, but I can’t focus on what they’re saying, my eyes locked on Amy’s. Memories are rolling over me in waves.
I haven’t told Luke this, because I know he’ll just blame himself, but Amy was one of the cruellest teachers back at Emery High. Once the bullying started, I used to spend most of my lunch breaks in her office, practically begging her to help me. I remember once I went to the office to see her, wet and crying, after one of the guys had poured water all down my shirt. As I walked into the staff room, I overheard her talking to the other teachers. That Thompson girl wants to see me again. I don’t know why she’s even bothering with her A-levels — that’s a girl that’s bound to end up on a pole, if ever I saw one.
It wouldn’t bother me much now, but when you’re a sixteen-year-old goody-two-shoes, hearing the head teacher of your school say that about you is scary. And so unbelievably embarrassing.
I swallow thickly, forcing myself to meet her gaze. “Hello, Mrs Martins.”
Zack clears his throat next to me, and Josh’s brother smiles. My cheeks heat.
“Oh God. Mrs Tran… I mean, um, Amy. God. I’m sorry.”
Amy laughs sweetly. “It’s not a problem. One of the pitfalls of being a teacher, I’m afraid. I saw one of my old students in Tesco the other day, and he called me Miss.” She pulls a face, then glances across to Zack. “And you must be Zachary, right? Rob has told me a lot about you.” Her eyes flick back to Zack’s hand on the back of my neck. “So, how long have the two of you been dating?”
I shove Zack off me. “We’re not. I’m actually here with Luke.”
“Huh. I did see you two together earlier.” Her pale eyes burn through me, and I fight the urge to step back. “Well. That’s not a match I thought I’d ever see.”
“Here ya go, love.” Zack interrupts, passing me a glass of lemonade. “Get this down ya.” He rubs my arm.
“Thanks.” I tip the glass back, swallowing down the drink so fast my eyes water.
“Seriously, though, thanks for coming, man,” Rob tells him over my head. “Wasn’t sure you were gonna make it.”
Zack wipes some lipstick off the rim of my glass and grins when I glare at him. “Why? I’m not that flaky, am I?”
“No,” Rob says, smiling at a passing couple. “It’s just, I know it’s a tough day for you. When we were doing table arrangements, Josh said you probably wouldn’t come.” He smiles at Zack sympathetically. “It’s good to see you getting out.”
Zack goes still next to me. I watch, alarmed, as his face drains of colour.
Rob keeps talking. “Honestly, if I’d known about the date, I would’ve moved the wedding. But everything was already booked. So, yeah, I really appreciate it. I know Josh would—”
“Zack?” I ask, interrupting him. “Are you okay?”
Rob pauses. We both watch as Zack tugs at the collar of his shirt. He’s starting to breathe hard.
“I…” he clears his throat. “Yeah, I just. Can you hold this a sec?” He shoves his glass into my hand. Liquid slops over the rim and wets my fingers. “Crap,” he mutters. “Sorry. I…” he reaches for a napkin from the table, dabs at my dripping wrist, then takes a deep breath. “Shit.”
“It’s okay.” I set the glass down, touching his back. “Hey. Are you feeling alright?”
Zack opens his mouth, closes it again—then turns on his heel and leaves, striding through the hall and towards the exit. I watch his broad back disappearing into the crowd, confused.