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Chapter Thirty-Seven

Bryony

Most Likely to Become Famous

The second Freddie Loughton makes that joke about how Ashleigh and Ryan will have actually killed each other, I want to kill him. Because, you know, he s probably right - they ve barely even looked at each other all night but everybody s noticed the tension. Those two are a goddamn inferno. There s an equal chance that Ashleigh will have either strangled Ryan with his own intestines or is currently forcing him to listen to a thirty-eight-point presentation on all the ways she thinks he is aiding and abetting a government she cannot and will not support.

(I bet if he was Green Party, she d totally deny climate change, though. That s what the Green Party are all about, right?)

Anyway, whatever is going on with the two of them right now, it sends up nothing but red flags as everybody confirms that they re both missing, and have been for ages, which is just, you know, totally great , absolutely fine .

Except obviously, if they re missing, it ll be to one-up each other. There will be annotated flaccid penises galore on the whiteboards, or they ll have broken into a DT room to try to show off some skill or other, or they ll have gone and found the old common room sort-of-but-not-really changed and be rearranging all the furniture

Long story short - they ll be up to no good.

It is totally incidental to everything that Ashleigh is smart enough to glom onto the fact that there s a ton of proof around the school that I work here, if she bothers to look, which she absolutely will. And it is pure coincidence that without Ryan being the centre of attention and flirting shamelessly and cracking jokes, the party vibe might die down quicker than I d like it to and it ll be a really boring, dry end to the night.

No, it s definitely the up to no good thing that s the problem here. Absolutely.

What s the big deal? Noodles Greg asks, grinning and inching towards the doors like he can skirt around me, like I won t notice , which only pisses me off more. She ll be around somewhere!

Yeah, somewhere , that s my problem! Nobody s meant to be anywhere except the school hall! My voice rises to a higher pitch. And-

She s an adult, mate! Greg has the audacity to clap me on the shoulder , then, and I m about ready to throw hands. I seethe as he grins at everybody else, oblivious. Come on, let s all get back to enjoy the rest of the party before we totally sober up!

No! Nobody s going anywhere until we track them down. I have to Fuck. Fuck!

It s not that I don t think they can look after themselves. It s that when the two of them are together, it s a ticking timebomb, and they re both willing to take drastic measures to fuck the other one over.

And, ultimately, all they re doing is fucking me over. I bet they caused the power cut somehow. I bet they even pulled the fire alarm for a joke, and it had nothing to do with me and the fuse box. They ve ruined my one perfect night. Just one night! With everyone believing I am who I want to be. Feeling like my old self again. Was that so much to ask? Was it really so goddamn unreasonable?

Steph comes over, cutting Greg a look to send him away, and then gives me a gentle, patient smile, like she s not in my bad books too, right now. But she says softly, Bryony, help us understand. Ashleigh and Ryan will be around somewhere, like Greg said. Why don t we just call them and tell them to come back?

Tried, Hayden says, waggling his phone. Ashleigh s going straight to voicemail. I texted her, but no dice.

Yeah, I couldn t get hold of Ryan, either; I just tried him but got the same thing, Hiro informs us.

Steph bites her lip, doing her best to give me a reassuring smile. I m sure they can t have gotten into too much trouble.

Yeah, RJ shouts over, and the rugby lads starts nodding like the Churchill dog and egging him on. Amped up by the instant support, RJ calls, And what s the big deal if they have, anyway? Not like they couldn t pay for any damages.

Or pay to get the bloodstains cleaned up, Freddie adds, and I hate the laughter that follows.

And I crack.

I lose it. My composure, my last nerve, any semblance of willpower - it all goes flying out of me in an instant and I transform like the witch in Into the Woods , shedding this beautiful, pristine, glamorous shell to become something wretched and warped in front of their very eyes. I feel the way my face twists into an ugly snarl, hands curving into a claw-like grip on thin air at my sides, and I see the alarm in some people s faces, Steph s included, as I round on the rugby lads. They were mostly good banter when we were teenagers but now I m on the other side of it, they are the bane of my life, and not the sexy Anthony Bridgerton kind. The annoying, want-the-skin-to-melt-off-my-face, about-to-scream kind.

Which may really, ultimately, be a me problem, but I m about to make it a them problem.

Boy, am I about to make it their problem.

This isn t funny , I snap at them, and a little spit flies from my mouth. I decide I don t care. This isn t a joke , so you can stop laughing right now. You have no idea what I went through trying to pull this party together tonight, and all you lot have done is try to flout the rules I set and take advantage. It s like none of you have grown up in the last ten years! None of you! I add, turning to the wider crowd, and they re a captive audience, and it makes my adrenaline spike just like if they were seated and I were on stage, and that makes me feel - for once - sick to my stomach.

I think I finally understand stage fright, because I m about this close to vomiting.

But the show must go on, and my voice is still spilling out of my open mouth and I can t seem to stop it.

None of you have any idea what it took to make tonight happen. Like it was just an email, maybe a phone call, ba-da-bing, ba-da-boom, but it s not . If things go tits-up tonight - which, let s face it, they kind of already have - this isn t just an invoice I ll send to someone for busting a lock on a classroom door or a complaint over some scribbling on whiteboards, this is my job on the line!

Your job? Steph asks, and she s not the only one.

And I m crying , which is the icing on the cake. It s going to ruin my eyeliner. I sniffle and throw my head back, dabbing my fingertips at the corners of my eyes and trying to will the tears away. It doesn t work as well as I hoped it would.

What do you mean, your job is on the line? Roisin asks me.

Do you, like Hiro laughs, and it s a bit nervous. D you work here, or something?

Bryony, says Trendy Elise, mouth agape. Are you a teacher here ?

One night.

That s all I wanted, just one night, living the lie I ve crafted oh so carefully in an effort to keep my dreams alive.

For ten years , they ve believed I was genuinely, truly making it as an actress. Living my best life. Being the main character - sort of. For ten whole years, they ve liked my Insta posts and occasional Facebook updates and have all lived in awe, on tenterhooks to one day see me pop up as the leading lady in a trailer for a new movie as they re scrolling TikTok or whatever, stunned by the glitzy life they all knew I was destined to lead.

And all it s taken is one night to undo it all.

Time moves slowly in the next couple of seconds. I watch eyes bugging wide and jaws dropping, practically hear the cogs whirring as my old friends all turn to each other to whisper about how I pulled the wool over their eyes, everybody so confused and exhilarated by this plot twist like the reveal about the killer in a Knives Out movie.

It s my final flourish. The curtain descends. Hold the applause. Exit stage left, hand off your wig and props as you go. House lights come back on; reality resumes.

I blink, feeling cold all over, the sequins on my jumpsuit chafing nastily against my arms, threatening to leave my skin all raw and scratched-up tomorrow, and the sound of muttering and whispers hits me like a brick wall.

I can feel Hayden looking at me, but I don t want to see what the expression on his face is. If I were him, I d be feeling pretty smug right now; I deserve this exposure, after I kept cutting people down to size all night. I m no better than any of them. But Hayden s a good guy, and that s worse because I think he might be looking at me like he feels sorry for me , and I don t think I can handle that right now.

In fact, I don t want to handle any of this right now. The fallout belongs to Famous Bryony, and Famous Bryony can t come to the phone right now. She is

She s not dead, because she never existed.

I let habit take over as I turn to Steph, and I raise my voice. Projecting, not like I would for a performance, but to be heard across the playground when I m on duty.

I need some people to help track down Ashleigh and Ryan. Trustworthy people - ones who know the school. Morgan, Hassan, Josh, you take the top floor; Priya, Thea and Hiro, you take the second Roisin, Elise, I need you to check around the maths department. Steph and Shaun, you take the music and drama rooms. Hayden - you can come with me. Everybody else - back to the school hall. The music s still going, so enjoy the party.

It sounds more like a threat than anything else, but they re all smart enough not to argue with me, shuffling en masse back indoors.

I trudge back to Hayden, snatching the elbow of his shirt and yanking him inside with me. We ll check some of the common areas and the gym, and I guess we d better swing by the science department in case that s not locked up properly.

God, what a mess.

Hayden wriggles his arm and I think he s trying to shake me off, but when I do let go, he does it again and bumps me to get my attention. I can t look at him, but he says quietly, I m sorry it all came out like that, B, but

If you tell me it s for the best , I might have to lock you in that cupboard by the English rooms.

He gives a breath of laughter, and something in me relaxes a little. I was going to say, that was pretty badass.

I snort. Yeah, not fucking likely. It was pathetic, and I tell Hayden, That s a pathetic attempt at cheering me up. But thanks.

Sure. What re friends for?

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