Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 116759 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116759 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
I pulled away, storming up the street.
“Sebastian!”
“Don’t look at me with compassion. I don’t deserve it,” I spat out. “I should be in prison, but our school didn’t want an international scandal. It all got swept under the rug as a boyish prank that went wrong.”
“It was a prank that went wrong.” Lily tugged me to a stop. “And I fully understand your guilt. But, Sebastian, you did not intend to kill someone. You didn’t come up with the prank. It was someone else’s ugliness that led to a terrible tragedy.”
“You know, that’s what Lawrence’s father said to me. That it was a terrible tragedy. I was crying uncontrollably as I confronted his parents, and his father smacked me hard. ‘Man up, boy. My son’s weakness was not your fault.’”
“Bloody hell,” Lily muttered, appalled.
“Lawrence’s dad was alumni. Hard, cold man. I often wondered if Lawrence hid his asthma because of him.”
“I think that’s a fair bet.” Lily soothed a hand over my back.
“But his mother …” I stared at Lily in anguish, remembering the look on Lawrence’s mum’s face. “She looked at me and James like she wanted to wipe us from the earth. And I didn’t blame her. That poor woman.”
“Weren’t the police involved?”
“Yes. I told them the truth, even though the school told me not to. And nothing happened. A slap on the wrist. That’s what money and privilege buys you,” I sneered in self-directed disgust.
“What happened with James?”
“He was furious. Turned the boys on me. Said I was a snitch, a traitor. I didn’t care. I quit the team, and I didn’t pursue the Under 18s, even though it would have gotten me out of there.”
“Why quit football if you loved it?”
“Because I didn’t deserve it. Lawrence would never play again. So why should I get to?”
Lily brushed a tear away and I reached for her hand, squeezing it.
“Don’t cry for me, Lily.”
“I hate that you’re holding on to this. You would never intentionally hurt anyone.”
Relief warmed me as I tucked her arm through mine and held her close as we walked. “You always see the good in me.”
“Because you are good.”
I grunted. I’d never be sure of that again.
“What happened with James?”
“We spent the rest of our time at school in a cold war with one another. I wasn’t afraid of him anymore and because of Harry, I had all the lads on the rugby team at my back. He tried at first to get to me. Then I saw him and some lads trying to tape another lad to a tree. Lesson not learned. Something came over me and I beat the utter shit out of him.”
“Good.” Her features were hard and angry. “He deserved it.”
“He did,” I agreed. “It was my second strike, though. Third and they’d expel me. But after that, James stayed out of my way. He graduated that year and my last year at the school was better. It was better for everyone without him there.”
“But you never returned to football?”
“Haven’t played a game since.”
At Lily’s silence, I glanced down at her. “What?”
“You’re punishing yourself.”
“Maybe I am.” I shrugged. “Maybe I deserve to.”
“Sebastian—”
“I don’t really want to talk about it anymore,” I cut her off, my tone soft, placating. “Please.”
Frustration lit her eyes, but she nodded. “Okay.” Then she did something that made my chest ache unbearably. She rested her head against the top of my arm, cuddling in close as we walked.
Accepting me.
Accepting my past and my truth.
And still caring about me even so.
Grateful, I pressed a kiss to the top of her head and fell into peaceful silence with her as we ambled aimlessly through Old Town.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
LILY
A Few Weeks Later
“Okay, if Thanksgiving is this bloody delicious, why aren’t we doing it every year?” Harry asked as we all pulled on our coats.
“Actually, we used to, and I believe it was the English that introduced it in North America,” I told him as I fumbled over a coat button.
“How so?”
“Thanksgiving was important during the English Reformation.”
At his blank look, I continued, “During the reign of Henry VIII.”
“Is he an ancestor of yours, then?” Maddie asked Sebastian.
He shot her a droll look.
Harry crossed the room to me. “You’re telling me we started Thanksgiving but stopped while the North Americans continued the tradition?”
“It evolved in North America from what it was, but aye.”
“How do you know this?”
I turned to Sebastian to find him smiling fondly at me as he tied a scarf around his neck.
“Lily is a sponge,” Sierra offered. “Anything she reads, she soaks right up.”
“Well, I vote we petition the government to bring it back.” Harry patted his stomach. “That was delicious, Sierra, thank you.”
“I had help from my girlies. And Sebastian.”
Sebastian bowed his head comically.
Because Sierra could only afford to return to the US at Christmas every year, it meant she missed out on Thanksgiving with her family. Maddie and I had surprised her in our first year with a Thanksgiving dinner. The following years, Sierra organized it. Sometimes we invited fellow Americans to join us. This year, we’d invited Sebastian, Harry, Zac, and Shaun.