Save Us de Mona Kasten

Date de parution : 11.2025
Format : Broché
Nombre de pages : 336
Résumé : The third and final book in the international bestselling Maxton Hall series—now a Prime Video streaming series—in English for the first time. Can they save themselves? Or will they destroy each other? Ruby is in shock: Her worst nightmare has come true, and now Oxford and all her dreams that finally seemed within reach are at risk. Worst of all, everything points to James as the one responsible, even after everything they’ve been through together. Ruby thought that she had met the real James—the one who has his own dreams, the one who makes her laugh and makes her heart beat faster with a single glance. However, after an explosive fight between the two, they discover a terrible truth. Together, Ruby fights to graduate, as James tries to clear her name at school. But that means once again James must challenge his father and his expectations for him. And despite everything, James still threatens to break under the obligations to his family. Ruby and James must ask themselves if the worlds they live in are perhaps too different after all, or if they can finally find a way back to each other.; Leseprobe 1 Graham When I was younger, my grandfather always used to ask me, If one day you lost everything, what would you do? I would never think seriously about my answer to the question, just say whatever popped into my head first at that moment. When I was six, and my brother had deliberately broken my toy truck, I said, I'll fix the digger. When I was ten, and we moved from Manchester to the outskirts of London, I said, I'll just have to find new friends. And when I was seventeen, my mum died, and while I was trying to be strong for my dad and my brother, I said, We can get through this. Even then, giving up was not an option. But now, aged almost twenty-four, sitting here in this office where I suddenly feel like a criminal, I no longer have an answer. At this moment I feel as though there's no way out of this situation, that my future is uncertain. I don't know how I'm meant to go on from here. The drawer squeaks as I pull it out of the heavy cherrywood desk. I dig around in the muddle of pens and notepads that have accumulated there over the last year. My movements are slow, my arms feel like lead. But I need to hurry-I have to be out of the building by the end of lunch. You are suspended with immediate effect. You are expressly forbidden from maintaining any contact with Maxton Hall students. If you breach this ban, I will go to the police. The pens fall through my fingers and clatter onto the floor. Bloody fucking hell. I bend down, pick them up, and dump them in a box with the rest of my belongings. It's a mishmash of notes, textbooks, my grandfather's globe, and handouts I'd photocopied for tomorrow's lessons and now might as well leave behind, although I can't bring myself to do that. I look around the office. The shelves are bare, and there's nothing but a few bits of paper on the desk and the smudged writing pad to show that I was marking essays here until a few hours ago. You only have yourself to blame, a spiteful voice nags in my head. I rub my pounding temples as I check all the drawers and cubbyholes in the desk one last time. I shouldn't drag out my goodbyes any longer than strictly necessary, but I'm surprised by how reluctant I am to tear myself away from this room. I'd decided weeks ago to look for a job in another school so that I could be together with Lydia. But there is a major difference between leaving a job of your own accord and being escorted out by security. I gulp hard and take my jacket from the wooden coat stand. Mechanically, I pull it on, then grab the box and walk to the door. I leave the office without a backward glance. The questions are piling up in my head: Does Lydia know? How is she? When will I be able to see her? What should I do now? Can I ever work as a teacher again? What if I can't? But I can't find the answers to them now. All I can do is fight the rising panic and walk down the corridor toward the school office to drop off my keys. Kids run past me, and some of them greet me politely. My stomach is throbbing painfully. It's a struggle to smile back at them. Teaching here was fun. I turn the corner and, suddenly, it feels as though someone's tipped a bucket of ice-cold water over my head. I stop so abruptly that someone crashes into me from behind and murmurs an apology. But I barely take it in-my eyes are fixed on the tall, red-blond young man whom I have to thank for this entire situation. James Beaufort's face doesn't flinch at the sight of me. Far from it-he looks totally unbothered, as if he hasn't just screwed up my entire life. I knew what he was capable of. And I was aware that it wasn't a good idea to get on the wrong side of him. Lexington warned me as much on my first day at this school: You never know what he and his friends will do next. Watch out for them. I didn't pay much attention to his words because I knew the other side of the story. Lydia had told me how hard all the family expectations were on her twin, and how he'd closed himself off from everyone, even from her. In hindsight, I feel a total idiot for not having been more careful. I should have known that James would do anything for Lydia. Having destroyed my career is probably all in a day's work for him. Standing next to James is Cyril Vega. It's a good thing he doesn't take history, considering that I can't set eyes on him without picturing him and Lydia together. Walking out of school together and getting into a Rolls. Laughing together. Cyril with his arms around her, comforting her after her mother's death in the way I never could. After the tiniest hesitation, I grit my teeth and walk on, the box jammed under my arm. I grip the keys in my pocket more tightly as I come closer to them. They've broken off their conversation and are watching me, each of them with a hard, impenetrable mask of a face. I stop by the door to the school office and turn to James. "Happy now?" He doesn't respond, which makes the anger inside me boil over. "What were you thinking?" I ask, glaring at him. "Didn't you and your friends realize that your childish prank would destroy my career?" James exchanges glances with Cyril and his cheeks flush slightly-just like his sister's do when she gets angry. The two of them look so similar and yet, in my eyes, they couldn't be more different. "You're the one who ought to have been thinking," Cyril spits. His eyes are more furious even than James's, and it occurs to me that getting me kicked out was probably a joint effort. The expression on Cyril's face leaves me in no doubt that he has all the power here. He can do what he likes to me, even though I'm older than he is. He's won, and he knows it. There's triumph in his eyes and arrogance in his stance. I bark out a resigned laugh. "Beats me why you're laughing," he goes on. "It's over. We know what you are. Don't you get it?" I clench my fist around the key ring so hard that the little metal teeth cut into my skin. Does this rich brat really think I don't get it? Does he think I'm not perfectly well aware that nobody gives a shit when and where Lydia and I first met? That nobody will believe us if we insist that we had already fallen in love before I started at Maxton Hall? And that we broke up the moment I found out that I'd be her teacher? Of course I knew it. From now on and for all time, I'm going to be the creep who got involved with a student on his very first teaching job. The thought makes me sick. I walk into the office without deigning to look at the two of them again. I pull the bunch of keys from my jacket pocket and slam them onto the desk, then turn on my heel. As I walk past the lads again, I glimpse Cyril pushing a phone into James's hand out of the corner of my eye. "Thanks for that, mate," he says. I turn away and hurry toward the door as fast as I can. I dimly register that James is raising his voice. Every step hurts; every breath feels like a monumental effort. There's a roaring in my ears that drowns out pretty much everything else. The students' laughter, their echoing footsteps, the creaking of the double doors as I walk out of Maxton Hall and into the unknown. Ruby I feel numb. The bus driver shouts out that it's the end of the line, but I can't make sense of her words. Eventually, I grasp that I've got to get off if I don't want to ride all the way back to Pemwick. I've been so sunk in thought that I have no memory of the last forty-five minutes. When I step out into the air, my limbs feel heavy yet tingly, all at once. I grip my backpack with both hands as if the straps could hold me up. But it doesn't help to shake off the feeling that I've been caught up in a whirlwind from which there's no escape. Like I no longer know up from down. This can't have just happened. I can't have been kicked out of school. Mum can't really have thought I'd get involved with a teacher. My dreams of Oxford can't have just gone up in smoke. I must be losing my mind. My breath