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Chapters (61)
  1. COVER
  2. About the Author
  3. Books by Emily Barr
  4. DEDICATION
  5. Prologue
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. 49
  55. 50
  56. 51
  57. Epilogue
  58. Acknowledgements
  59. Read on for an extract from …
  60. 12 December
  61. THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING

‘Sorry.’ I jump up. ‘I guess I’m not meant to be in here. I’ll leave.’

‘Joe!’ She knows my name and she’s angry.

‘Sorry,’ I say again. I need to get away from her: there’s a storm behind her eyes. ‘I’m going, honestly.’

‘Has anything you told me been true?’ she demands. ‘One single thing? You’re supposed to be in France, for a start, and –’

‘No.’ I interrupt her. ‘No, I’m going tonight. Tonight we set off on the French exchange.’ It feels like a mantra.

‘No.’ She stands in the doorway, blocking my exit, her hands on her hips. ‘Yesterday you said you were going to France. The day before that you said you were going to France. The phone number you gave me doesn’t work. The school you go to doesn’t exist. It’s just the old name for my school. I looked it all up. Everything you told me was a crock of shit.’

I am too confused to say anything for quite a long time. She just stands and waits, and in the end I say: ‘I’m sorry. Have we met before?’

‘You’re a fucking psycho!’ she shouts. ‘Yeah, we’ve met twice before, as you very well know. The past two days. I thought we were friends. You’ve been lying the whole time. I’m going now and you’ll never see me again.’

She’s still standing in the doorway, so I can’t leave because I really don’t want to have to push past her. I do recognize her, but I don’t know who she is. I don’t remember speaking to her before. I have no idea what she’s talking about, which one of us is mad here.

‘Sorry,’ I say. The last thing I need right now is some strange girl telling me how crap I am.

‘What’s going on, though? Who are you? Why do you lie all the time?’

I feel my eyes pricking with tears and try to blink them away. I want to punch the wall. I have no idea what’s going on. Who is this girl and why does she hate me? Why does she think I lie all the time? I don’t. I don’t think I do, anyway.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ I turn away and – why not? – I do it. I punch the wall. I hit it hard, but my hand doesn’t hurt. It should hurt. I want to cry.

‘Do you have, like, amnesia or something?’ Her voice is softer.

‘I don’t think so! I don’t know. Maybe I do. Everything feels strange. I think it has for ages.’

‘You literally don’t remember that you met me yesterday and the day before?’