Deep Water by Mark Ayre (best big ereader TXT) 📕

have got up and walked away, but she worried about the boy. She wanted to give him a chance.

He looked away, his face flushed as he looked to the wall above his bed. There stood a tall, stunning blonde who seemed to have forgotten to bring clothes to the poster shoot. A pity the wardrobe department couldn't have provided anything.

As Jacob turned back, Abbie pointed to the poster. "Think I used to have the same one."

Jacob rolled his eyes. There was another period of silence, then Abbie stood. She didn't want to go. Something told her the threat of leaving might be enough to loosen Jacob's tongue.

"What happened to you?" he said.

Abbie hovered over the chair. "You'll have to be more specific," she said. "I lead an exciting life."

Again, Jacob's cheeks reddened. He looked away, and Abbie used the opportunity to reclaim the office chair.

"You said… something similar… like with me… you said you suffered… I just wondered…"

Abbie did not joke about how Jacob was going for the same half-finished sentences record as his father. It didn't feel like the time.

She said, “On my sixteenth birthday, a boy I fancied invited me to a party. My mother forbade me to go, so I snuck out. It was the first time I'd ever disobeyed my mother. She was a terrifying lady. Big on rules, small on love."

"Sounds like my mum,” muttered Jacob.

"Then maybe you get it. I feared my mother and was a good girl anyway. But the thought that Harry, the guy, might fancy me, that I might have a shot with him, was enough to convince me, for the first time, to break the rules. Besides, I told myself I wouldn’t be gone long. I also said I wouldn't drink, but Harry persuaded me to have just one when I arrived. He'd make it weak, he said. Have it for him, he cajoled. And I was a stupid girl, easily led and enamoured with this boy. So I nodded like an idiot. I drank the drink."

Abbie shifted in the office chair. It suddenly felt a lot less comfortable than it had thirty seconds ago. It seemed as though it would be much more comfortable if she turned it around, so Jacob was staring at the back of her head rather than into her face.

"I drank the drink, and Harry introduced me to his friends," said Abbie, keeping the seat where it was. "They were nice to me, but I soon began to feel woozy and unwell. When that happened, when I felt as though I might fall down, Harry took me upstairs and suggested I lie down."

Abbie stopped again. Realised her hands were gripping the edges of her seat. She forced them away and smoothed her tight trousers with her palms. They didn't need smoothing. It was something to do with her hands.

"You're sixteen,” said Abbie. "Not a kid. I won't spell out what happened next. Harry came in with his friends. Can't remember most of it, but nor can I forget. The emotional damage caused that night is like a set of weights around my ankles, and I can't ever take them off. I can move on, but the weights stop me from moving too fast. That's how it feels, anyway."

Abbie finished speaking and refused to let herself look away from Jacob. She watched him look to his ankles. Then back to her. He tried to talk but the words caught in his throat. Tried again, and his voice was raspy, quiet. Abbie had to lean forward to hear.

"Couldn't sleep last night. Every time I closed my eyes, I kept thinking about it. I wasn't even dreaming, but I could see myself… with Gray and Ana laughing, and I wanted to stop but…"

"That'll happen," said Abbie, when Jacob couldn't go on. "Wish I could say otherwise, but I think it's unavoidable. What can you do about it? You lie there, eyes closed, and take deep breaths. If your mind won't stop showing you what you never did, tell yourself, out loud, I did not succumb. I walked away."

"But I would have. If it wasn't for you—“

"No, no, no," said Abbie. "That's not helpful. Our minds can be our worst enemies, but we are always in control of our voice box. You forget about me. You tell yourself you didn't succumb; you walked away. Because that's what happened. That's the truth. You tell yourself enough times while taking deep breaths, self-belief will overpower your subconscious. You can win, but only if you go to war with that stupid mind of yours."

Jacob looked at Abbie again. His voice remained quiet, almost silent.

"What about next time? She won't stop."

"Ariana? Not of her own volition, no. But that's okay. Alice is going to try and stop her, and if Alice can't, I will. I promise you that."

"Why?" asked Jacob, genuine confusion in his eyes. "Why would you help me?"

Abbie leaned back, considering the issue. She tapped a finger to her lips.

"I think your father is probably a bad person, a crook," said Abbie. "I cannot approve of or condone his business activities. Maybe one day you'll follow in his footsteps, and I'll feel the same about you. Not that I'll know you by then. However, for now, you're a teenager, under eighteen, and I don't believe your father's involved you in his business. You're an innocent, Jacob, which means you're worthy of protection, and I’ll protect you. Ariana won’t get a second chance to hurt you."

Nodding, trying not to cry, Jacob pulled his legs to his chest and hugged them. His eyes expressed his gratitude. If he were a few years younger, he might have risen to give Abbie a hug, to say a proper thank you. That would have made Abbie uncomfortable. She was glad he remained on the bed.

In the end, he did manage to say, "Thank you."

"That's no problem. I gave you my number for a reason. I'm here to talk whenever you want. You don't have to suffer alone."

"I