Chapter 35: 35

Alice stared out of the window, mesmerized by the raindrops snaking their way down the glass. She tracked two drops as they veered into each other, merging into one larger blob before cascading out of sight.

Sort of like people, Alice mused, resting her chin in her hand. Her thoughts circled back to Adam for the hundredth time since that day in his front yard. Watching him fight—no, beat someone to a pulp—had been shocking. Eye-opening, even. She kept telling herself it didn’t matter how he treated other people. That as long as he was good to her, she could ignore the rest.

But deep down, in the part of herself she tried to avoid, Alice knew it mattered.

“Wake up, dreamer,” Joseph’s voice broke through her haze. He poked her ribs, making her flinch. “You need to get that beauty finished today, remember?”

“Yeah,” Alice sighed wistfully, her gaze lingering on the rain-soaked world outside. How could she think about art when her mind was a jumbled mess of questions, doubts, and emotions?

Joseph gave her a pointed look. “Whatever you’re brooding over—and I have a fair idea who—let it go. You’ve got deadlines, babe. Focus.”

He wasn’t wrong, but Joseph’s blunt tone grated against her mood. She stared down at the blank canvas in front of her. It felt like an accusation, daring her to create something meaningful when all she wanted to do was crawl into bed and wallow.

“It’s easy for you to say,” Alice said, frowning at him. “You can get any guy you want. You actually have a love life.”

Joseph rolled his eyes, leaning one hip against her desk. “Sweetheart, my love life is not the sparkly fairy tale you think it is. Do you know how many frogs I’ve kissed just to find a halfway decent prince?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Alice muttered, waving him off before he could launch into another monologue about his dating woes.

Joseph huffed dramatically. “Whatever. When you’re ready to stop wallowing and join the rest of us mortals, let me know.”

With that, he strutted off toward another table, his usual exaggerated walk turning Alice’s guilt up another notch.

I’ve been a rubbish friend lately, Alice thought, watching him go. It wasn’t like she didn’t know it. She’d been so wrapped up in her own problems—her own mess—that she hadn’t asked Joseph or anyone else about their lives in ages. No wonder he was frustrated.

I’ll apologize later, she promised herself. When my brain doesn’t feel like a grey storm cloud.

For now, it was all she could do to hold herself together. Doubt seeped into every corner of her soul, making her re-evaluate everything she thought she knew about herself. After Dave, she’d sworn she’d never lose herself in a relationship again, never let someone change who she was.

But Adam? He was like a fire she couldn’t resist touching, no matter how much it burned.

She checked her phone again, the screen lighting up with that all-too-familiar phrase: No new messages.

Those three words had become her nemesis, taunting her every time she opened her phone. With a frustrated groan, she turned her attention back to the art book on her desk, flipping through the pages without really seeing them.

“Ah, Alexandra Thorpe,” Alek’s voice broke the silence, startling her. The art professor loomed over her shoulder, peering at the book with a slight smile. “Nice to see a student exploring local artists’ work.”

Alice flushed, her brain scrambling to process his sudden presence. “Oh, um, yeah,” she stammered. “I spotted her work in that café in the next village over. You know, the one… erm…”

The name of the café danced just out of reach, mocking her.

Alek tilted his head, his expression faintly amused. “You mean Aldwinkles?”

“Yes!” Alice said, her face lighting up with relief. “That’s the one. I saw her work there and thought it was similar to the artists we’ve covered this module. The brushwork and use of color, you know?”

“Good eye,” Alek said with a nod. “Keep at it.”

He moved on, leaving Alice feeling slightly buoyed by his rare praise. With renewed determination, she grabbed her paintbrush and began working. Her strokes weren’t as precise or inspired as she’d like, but it was something.

By the time she left the studio, her canvas was far from finished, but at least she could take it home to work on.

The good mood didn’t last. Back in her kitchen, Alice found herself circling the cupboards like a restless animal, searching for something sweet to satisfy her gnawing anxiety. Of course, Jamie had already raided the snacks, leaving nothing but an empty biscuit tin and some stale crackers.

Grumbling under her breath, Alice headed upstairs, intending to confront Jamie about his snack hoarding. She pushed his door open without knocking, only to freeze in her tracks.

Jamie was perched on his bed, and Ste sat awkwardly beside him. Strewn across the bed were ropes and a belt, arranged in a way that made Alice’s brain leap to a hundred uncomfortable conclusions.

“Oh,” Alice blurted, taking a step back. “Sorry, I didn’t think you were home.”

“Ever heard of knocking?” Jamie snapped, glaring at her.

“Right. Sorry,” Alice mumbled, her eyes darting back to the suspicious items on the bed. Whatever they were planning, she didn’t want to know.

Jamie kicked the door shut, cutting off her retreat.

Alice stood in the hallway, taking a deep breath to steady herself. Well, that’s a mental image I’ll never scrub away, she thought grimly.

She retreated to her room, resigning herself to a night of sulking and Netflix. But just as she was about to throw herself onto her bed, her phone buzzed. The screen lit up with a message from Adam.

“Come over for movie tonight? I downloaded 13 Ghosts.”

A grin spread across Alice’s face. For the first time all day, the storm clouds in her mind seemed to part.

“On my way,” she typed back, grabbing her coat.