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  All That’s Been Said

  Copyright © 2019 by Emma Doherty

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Author Note

  To my lovely American and International readers,

  Izzy is British and I have therefore used British spellings and grammar which sometimes differ slightly to American (and other countries’) spellings. I hope you understand.

  X

  This is the second of a two-part duet. It is highly recommended that All That's Left is read first.

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Preview of The Stand-in-Boyfriend

  Other books by Emma Doherty

  Acknowledgments

  We’re all we’ve got left.

  I’m done with you.

  You take every chance you can to crush him.

  I’m done with you.

  You are so messed up.

  I’m done with you.

  She would hate this.

  I’m done with you.

  She was his mom too.

  I’m done with you.

  Ethan and Finn’s words echo around my head as I peer into the sun visor mirror in Paul’s car and smear concealer under my eyes to hide the bags that have appeared there. I’ve found it even harder to sleep in the last couple of weeks since Ethan and I had our big blowout. Our big blowout, which it feels like the whole school knows about.

  I can’t get what they said to me out of my head, and I hate that the reason I can’t is because they were right. Everything they said was true.

  But I should be happy, right? I should be happy that Ethan’s finally done with me, that Finn has backed off of me. That was what I wanted, wasn’t it? I know it was, but now that it has happened and they’ve spent the last two weeks acting like I don’t exist, I can’t help but feel uneasy. Like something is wrong. Like I’ve caused irreparable damage I can’t fix, and because I don’t know how to fix it, I’m going to do what I always do: bury my feelings. I’ll bury my feelings and look ahead to July when I turn 18 and can return to the UK.

  The UK, where I’ve also destroyed all my friendships.

  I let out a long sigh and push my hair back off my face. There’s no point in going over it again and again. It’s done and now I have to move forwards. I just wish my head would agree with my logic. Even after everything Finn said to me, even after he forced me to look at Ethan in a new light and to put myself in his shoes, I can’t let go of this resentment I have towards my brother, this bitterness I feel towards him, how angry I am at him. I can’t let go of that.

  No matter how much I want to.

  No matter how much I know logically he’s not to blame for any of the past year…he’s not God, he can’t control cancer, and it wasn’t him who was living with her whilst it went undiagnosed for months. And yet somehow I can’t stop blaming him for not being there at the end and choosing not to be with us over the last five years.

  I really wish he’d been there.

  And what I wish above all else is that it were a year ago and my mum were still here. She’d know how to make this right. She could make everything better.

  Paul pulls into a parking spot in the junior lot at school, and I blink as I realise we’ve already arrived. I try not to think about the whole day stretching before me.

  Paul clears this throat. “Um…Izzy, I don’t mean to…I don’t want to intrude…” I turn my head to face him. He’s twisting his fingers together nervously and his eyes are darting between me and the steering wheel. “I just…um…I wanted to check that you’re okay?”

  A beat passes.

  “I know it’s none of my business or anything and you don’t have to tell me, but I just wanted you to know I’m here if you need anything.”

  My heart melts a little. It’s no secret to everyone in this place that I’m on terrible terms with Ethan right now, that he, Finn, and I had an explosive argument and they’ve frozen me out, their friends doing the same, and that I’m basically the arch enemy of the entirety of the popular kids at Northview High. Even though I’ve tried to pretend I don’t care and I’m not bothered, I can’t quite convince myself of it.

  Paul hesitates. “If you need to talk, I’m here.”

  Paul really is the nicest guy. He’s painfully shy and can barely look me in the eye half the time, but he’s been nothing but kind to me since the day I met him and he can’t do enough for me. He’s a really good friend.

  “Thanks, Paul. I’m okay.”

  He offers me a small smile, and I manage to return it.

  “Oh, I nearly forgot.” I reach for my bag and fish around in it for the money I pulled from the cash machine. “Here you go.” I hold it out towards him; it’s his payment for this week for driving me around.

  He glances at it for a second and then starts shaking his head. “No, Izzy. I don’t want it.”

  My brows furrow in confusion. “What are you talking about? It’s for driving me about.”

  “No.” He blushes red. “I should never have taken any cash from you. You’re my friend and I want to help you out and give you rides.”

  My jaw falls open. “Paul, it’s fine. Honestly, we had a deal.”

  “No, Izzy. If you need a ride, I’ll give you one, and I don’t expect anything for it.”

  I swear I feel tears prick the backs of my eyelids, and I blink rapidly and pull myself together. I think this is the nicest thing anyone’s done for me since I’ve been here. He’s the first person in school who’s looked past the show I put on, past the Carlington name and my looks and reputation and actually just seen me and accepted me for it—accepted me for it and still wanted to be my friend.

  “Thank you, Paul.” And I mean it. I really, really mean it.

  He smiles back at me then turns away and opens his car door. I do the same, and for the first time in weeks, I actually start the day not feeling completely alone.

  I’ve barely been sat at my desk in homeroom for two minutes before Ms. Joot, the school guidance counsellor, turns up at the classroom door and tells me she needs to speak to me. She stands there in all her Texas glory—bright red lipstick, platinum hair, and outrageous outfit—and I know without a s
hadow of a doubt I’m not going to like what she has to say. I get up and follow her to her office regardless, pretending I don’t notice the whispers that follow me out the door. It’s no secret that a personal visit from the guidance counsellor doesn’t exactly spell good news.

  She surprises me, though. When I’m in her office, sat down across from her, she doesn’t jump in and bombard me with information and questions. Instead she sits there and watches me, taking me in, and it makes me so uncomfortable that it’s me who ends up shifting in my seat and breaking the silence.

  “Is there something you needed from me?”

  “How are you, Izzy?”

  “I’m fine.”

  She pauses. “How are you really?”

  My jaw immediately tenses and my eyes drop to the dark mahogany desk that sits between us. You know it’s bad when even teachers have heard the rumours about you.

  “Izzy?” she presses.

  “I’m fine,” I tell her. It’s the same thing I tell everyone.

  “Izzy…” She trails off as my eyes stay trained on the desk. “You missed a couple of classes last week.”

  My eyes snap up. “You can’t fail me,” I tell her, panic flashing through my body as I remember that she told me if I kept skipping lessons I wouldn’t graduate. “I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry. It was just a couple times. I’ve already made up the work. You can’t not let me graduate.”

  She must hear the panic in my voice. “Izzy, it’s okay. I know you’ve had some stuff going on.”

  There’s no point pretending I don’t know what she’s referring to. “If you’re talking about my fight with Ethan, it’s not an issue. It’s not affecting me.”

  “If you say having a knock-down-drag-out, no-holds-barred fight with your twin brother, the only immediate family you really have left, leaving you not speaking and on horrendous terms and the rest of his friends, the kids with the most influence in this school, taking his side and also ignoring you is not a big deal then I’m not sure I believe you.”

  I bite down on the inside of my cheek to try to stop any emotion showing on my face. I don’t know what’s happened to me over the last couple of weeks. I’m way more emotional than I have been in years. “Ethan and I have a difficult relationship. Not all siblings are close.”

  She doesn’t comment, just keeps staring at me in that unwavering way, and I do what I always do when I feel I’m under pressure.

  “How do you even know about it anyway?” I snap, taking my frustrations out on her. “Is Ethan really that big of a deal that even teachers know about our fight? Or don’t you have anything better to do than listen to student gossip?”

  She raises an eyebrow and I know I’ve gone too far, but she doesn’t snap back at me or put me in my place like she’s done before. Her voice is gentle when she speaks. “It’s my job to look out for students, and teachers are a lot more perceptive than you think. It’s not Ethan I’m worried about.”

  “You don’t worry about Ethan?”

  “I worry that he’s under a lot of pressure to perform for the school team and that he has this image and persona he must feel incredible pressure to maintain. I worry that he has offers coming in from scouts from some of the best colleges in the country and it must be incredibly difficult to decide on where to go without the proper guidance. I worry that some of the adults in his life care more about his position as a great athlete and his name and that if any of that were to change they wouldn’t still be there for him. I worry that he doesn’t have a support system at home to look out for him and that he has to rely on friends and their parents for that support.”

  I swallow hard. All of that is true. I was just too wrapped up in myself until recently to see that maybe Ethan’s life isn’t as perfect as I always thought it was.

  “But no, right now, Ethan’s not my main concern.”

  “And I am?” I ask, my eyes on the desk again.

  “Yes. I’m very concerned that you seem intent on isolating yourself from others around you and, from what I’ve heard from the school whispers, trying to self-destruct and not caring who you let use your body in order to do that.”

  A single tear drips down my face and I hastily wipe it away. I hate being vulnerable, and I hate that she’s right.

  “Izzy—”

  “Don’t,” I interrupt. “I’m just being stupid. Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s fine.”

  “It’s okay if everything’s not okay. You’ve been through a lot.”

  “I’m okay,” I repeat, and I’ll keep repeating it until she stops questioning me.

  She tries another tack. “Have you seen your father recently?”

  “No.”

  The look on her face says she’s unimpressed with this news, if not entirely surprised.

  “His assistant said he’s going to come through town for a couple of days next week because he has to do something with my grandmother and he has business in Houston.”

  “Will you get to see him?”

  I shrug. “She’s already warned us he’ll be busy the whole time, but he’s booked us in for dinner on Tuesday. I don’t know if he’s staying at the house.”

  She can’t hide the sneer on her face quickly enough, and I don’t blame her. What sort of father rolls up after being away for weeks and books you in for a quick dinner but prewarns you he only has an hour to spare because of his busy schedule of meetings?

  “Hey, it’s not so bad,” I try to joke. “At least he’s not making us meet up with my grandparents again.”

  “You’re not close to them?”

  I shake my head. “Nope. They hated my mum and had no problems telling me so when they last saw me.” I have no idea why I’m telling her all this. Usually I wouldn’t dream of saying this much, but after the week I’ve had, it actually feels good to just talk about my life and exactly how shit it can be.

  “Will your dad be back after his meetings?”

  I shake my head. “He’s flying to New York where his offices are and then on to Europe and maybe Asia for a couple of months.”

  Her face hardens.

  “Don’t worry, he’ll make a donation to the school or something because I’m taking up your time.”

  “Izzy!” Her tone is so sharp I know instantly that she’s pissed at that comment. “Let me make this perfectly clear: I don’t care about your father’s money and what he can do for this school. I care about you and the rest of the students here, and just because someone is a rich businessman does not mean I respect them as a father.”

  I blink. No one has ever said that before, not about my dad. All they usually care about is the fact that he can throw money at all his problems, and for the last seventeen years, Ethan and I have his been his two biggest problems.

  “Look…” Her face has softened. “I just want you to know I’m here to talk to if you need to speak to someone.”

  I consider it for half a second before I dismiss it. “That’s really nice of you, but I’m okay.”

  “I knew you’d say that…” She pushes herself backwards in her chair and spins it so she’s facing a filing cabinet. She opens the bottom drawer and pulls out a couple of leaflets then turns back to me, placing them on the desk in front of me. “So here, take a look at these.”

  I glance down and see brochures that advertise grief counselling.

  “There aren’t many local places, but some of these groups are really good and I really think they’d be beneficial for you.”

  I can’t tear my eyes away from the leaflets. Grief. The effects of grief.

  “Give it a try, Izzy, even if you only look up some of the stuff online.”

  I clear my throat. “Thank you, but I really don’t think I need this stuff.”

  She sighs. “Then speak to someone—anyone, anyone you trust. Just get it off your chest, whatever it is that’s weighing you down and leading to this behaviour. You can’t keep your emotions bottled up. It’s not healthy.”

  The bell rings loudly, sig
nalling the end of homeroom and the start of first period.

  “May I be excused?”

  “Promise me you’ll think about it? Talk about it. Don’t keep bottling it up.”

  I nod as I stand but I don’t pick up the materials as I leave her office.

  School seems to drag out even longer than usual today, and I’m counting down the minutes until it ends. I cannot cope with Evie, Ethan’s obnoxious girlfriend, smirking at me every chance she gets, like this is the best moment of her life now that Ethan and I aren’t talking. She and Lila, her equally snooty best friend, break out into whispers and snickers whenever I see them.

  Honestly, I think it pisses them off even more that I don’t ever react to it. They’re like little kids who want a reaction, and when I don’t give it to them because I genuinely don’t give a crap what they think about me, it just makes them even more annoyed.

  The people I sometimes hang out with at lunch—Pippa, Paul, Rachel, and their friends—haven’t mentioned my fight with Ethan and Finn even though I know they must have heard about it. You’d have to live on the moon in order to have avoided that information. I’ve learnt just how much gossip is spread and listened to at Northview High over the last couple of weeks, especially when it involves Ethan and Finn. Paul’s been the same as always with me, being even sweeter—if possible—and Pippa’s been really great too. I know she didn’t approve of my behaviour with Craig McGarretty, but she wasn’t angry about it. In fact, she seemed more disappointed in me, which just made me feel even guiltier. Rachel’s been exactly the same as always, bossy and irritable and obnoxious, and I kind of love her for it.

  Logan and Matty are the ones who hurt the most, if I’m honest, Logan more so because he’s fallen into line with Ethan and hasn’t spoken to me at all since our fight. He’s nodded and waved at me a couple of times, but he hasn’t tried to have a conversation, and I hate to admit it, but I miss his loud, good-humoured self hanging around me more than I would ever admit. Matty, on the other hand, hasn’t dropped me. He’s not around as much as he was before, but he’s not stopped talking to me and asking me how I am. That just makes me feel even guiltier because I screwed over one of his best friends and have previously done nothing but treat him like he’s an inconvenience whenever he’s spoken to me just because he’s been with Ethan, and I don’t deserve his kindness.