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Fourth Year September 1st 2003
First day back at school, and it only took twenty minutes for me to be utterly sick of the place. The canteen buzzed with energy, students still hyped from summer freedom, while Mr. Nyhan droned on from the podium, his voice echoing over the fourth, fifth, and sixth years. I was doing my best to tune him out, leaning against the table with Eloise beside me, who was rolling her eyes at the whole situation. Across from us, Casey and Aofie were whispering back and forth, occasionally laughing as they recounted the summer's stories.
The lads were gathered at the other side of the room, talking amongst themselves but throwing glances our way every now and then. I caught sight of Connor sitting with his friends, Luke and Oscar. He leaned over, muttering something to them, then looked in my direction, a slight smirk on his face. My stomach twisted. It was a mix of nerves and excitement, but it felt different now—confusing.
Since my birthday, Connor had been... well, nicer. He'd given me flowers every couple of weeks, small gestures that made me feel like maybe things really could change. He even surprised me with a new bag, a designer one that I adored. I couldn't help but love how it felt when he'd think of me like that, even if it sometimes felt overshadowed by the memories of our arguments.
But despite the changes, Eloise was having none of it. She glared at Connor from across the room, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. "I still don't trust him, Blair," she said quietly, leaning closer so only I could hear. "Just because he's giving you gifts doesn't mean he's changed. You know that, right?"
I opened my mouth to respond but hesitated, searching for the right words. "I know, but—"
"But nothing!" she interrupted, her voice low but firm. "He's still the same guy. It doesn't just go away. I don't like the way he looks at you sometimes. It gives me the creeps."
Eloise's protective instincts flared up again, just like they always did whenever Connor was around. I appreciated her concern; I really did. But it was hard for me to ignore the fact that things had gotten better, even if just a little.
"He's trying," I insisted, glancing back at him. Connor's eyes were on me again, but this time I caught him laughing with Luke and Oscar, his tension seeming to fade. "I mean, he's been different since the party."
"Different how?" Eloise shot back, her brows knitted together. "He still has a temper. Just wait. One wrong move, and he'll flip out again. You can't change overnight."
I sighed, knowing she had a point but not wanting to admit it. "I don't know. Maybe he's just...under a lot of pressure." I looked down at my Doc Martens, admiring the deep cherry red of the leather. Uncle Tony had surprised me with them, one of his random gifts that I never understood but always appreciated. They felt like armor, and I needed that feeling now more than ever.
