Buttercup [H.S]

Chapter Twenty Five

2012.

Harry.

It's been almost fifteen months.

Fifteen months where I'd had to make police statements. Had to convince my family I wasn't taking nor dealing cocaine at school. I had to resit my A-Level exams, then sit through an excruciating interview with the application board of the University to try and convince them to reinstate place for the next academic year.

I had to explain what happened.

That my best friend had been through hell and back, and that she was so afraid for her safety that she'd lied to save herself. Which, in turn condemned me.

After I'd finished, one of the panelist's interviewing me asked how the girl was doing now.

I noticed her sad, yet slightly hopefully expression, and I felt something twist painfully inside of me.

I don't know, I told her.

Before all of that, it took me three weeks after being escorted from School property by the police to get the nerves to reach out to Riley.

I was mad at first. Agonisingly, jaw achingly angry. I wasn't really sure at who. At Jason, obviously. At myself, for being so stupid and not pushing her to stay home that day? Or at Riley, for lying?

But the problem was, when I thought about Riley, and what she'd done; I didn't really feel that same, red hot anger.

I could see the look on her face when the lie had fallen from her lips. She looked totally empty. Vacant. Broken.

I just felt fucking sad.

Until eventually that sorrow turned into a frantic desperation, just to find out how she was. Had she reported Jason? Managed to keep him away from her over the summer? How had her parents reacted?

That's how I'd ended up on her doorstep on a Tuesday morning three weeks into the summer break.

It's the first time I'd knocked on her door. Usually I just parked up at the end of her driveway in the middle of the night, waiting with a hammering heart, not quite believing she'd slip out of the door and run into my van time and time again.

The person that answered the door was quite clearly her mother. They had the same deep brunette locks, same little round nose. But the softness was missing from this woman's eyes; though maybe they still held the same whisper of fear.

"Hi. I'm looking for Riley?"

I was feigning the politeness to my tone. I didn't have much nice to say about Riley's parents. At best they were neglectful; worst, they enabled her to be abused for months on end by Jason. It struck me sick to know that I'd done the same.

The woman doesn't say anything, just slips a dismissive look down her nose to me before going to close the door. I hold it open with my palm.

"I'm Harry-" I begin to tell her, as if that'll make the blindest bit of difference.

To my utter shock, she snips out, "We know exactly who you are. She told us all about you before she left."