London Falling. Chanel Cleeton
if she’d ever be interested in him. He’s a great guy, but yeah, he’s not exactly her type. Although George would be a billion times better for her than Costa ever was.” My eyes narrowed. “Where is Costa, anyway? I haven’t seen him around this year.” With the face of a god and the soul of the devil, Costa was pretty hard to miss.
“You didn’t hear?”
“Obviously not.” I’d been so consumed by my current situation with Samir that I’d barely paid attention to the usual International School gossip.
“He transferred.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. The rumor is that his parents pulled him out of school and sent him somewhere in the U.S.” Mya lowered her voice, stepping closer to me. “You absolutely cannot tell Fleur, but I heard his parents found out he got a girl pregnant while he was here, and they flipped out.”
Horror filled me.
“Seriously, though, that’s super-secret. You can’t tell anyone. Especially Fleur. I don’t think she could handle it right now.”
It was a minute before I could formulate a response. Because I knew something Mya didn’t. Unless Costa was incredibly virile and even stupider than I’d thought, I had a pretty good idea of who the girl in question was. Fleur was going to freak out. I didn’t know how to break it to her, but she had to know what people were saying before someone blindsided her with it.
“That’s crazy.”
“Yeah, he really was a dick.” Mya gestured toward the library. “Do you want to come study?”
“Go on ahead. I’m not in a studying mood at the moment.”
I wanted a chance to talk to Fleur. If she was going to hear about Costa from someone, I wanted it to be me.
Samir
I HIT “END” on my phone, shoving it back into my pocket.
My conversations with Layla were always like this—awkward. I’d known her most of my life, and we’d seen each other at enough formal events, but we’d never really been friends or anything. She was nice, but she was a girl. A quiet, shy, good girl. We had nothing in common and I suspected I made her just as uncomfortable as she made me. She seemed about as into our “relationship” as I was.
I was trying to do this right. Trying to be a good boyfriend and call her to see how she was doing. I was trying. But I sucked at it, and I was so sick of trying.
I pulled a cigarette out of my pocket, fumbling for my lighter. Then I saw her and a slow smile spread across my face. I couldn’t help it; the damn thing just appeared every time I caught sight of her.
She sat on the steps, her knees pulled up against her chest, her long brown hair falling all around her.
“Hi.”
Maggie’s head jerked up and her lips slowly curved. Any lingering awkwardness evaporated with that smile.
“Hi.”
“What are you doing out here?” I walked up to the top step where she sat.
Something that might have been worry crossed her face. “Waiting for Fleur.”
I sank down next to her. “Is everything okay?”
She hesitated for a moment, and I knew whatever answer she gave wouldn’t be completely the truth. I hated that there were things she didn’t seem to be willing to trust me with.
“Yeah, everything’s fine.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“I know. But I can’t talk about it. I made someone a promise that I wouldn’t.”
I was silent for a moment. “Just tell me this at least—are you okay?”
A soft smile teased her mouth. “I’m fine.”
I lit the cigarette, positioning my body so the smoke would blow away from her. I knew she didn’t like this habit of mine and I tried not to smoke around her, but I needed a cigarette right now, needed something to take the edge off after my conversation with Layla. I could feel the noose tightening around my neck.
“Where is Fleur?”
“In the cafeteria with George.”
I made a face. “Sorry, but you know that’s the worst idea ever.”
“It’s not,” Maggie protested. “He’s a good guy. He really seems to like her.”
I loved Fleur, but she was all kinds of screwed up. I’d had a few classes with George. There was no way he could handle someone like Fleur. She’d chew him up and spit him out without even meaning to. The hope in Maggie’s eyes was the only thing that had me refraining from saying so.
People like Fleur and me were too fucked up for nice, normal people. We hurt them without even meaning to, let them down without even realizing it. We should come with a warning label.
“So you’re matchmaking.”
“Maybe.”
I grinned, reaching out and tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. I’d never thought cute could be sexy before her, but she was so adorable I couldn’t resist.
For a moment, my fingers lingered against her skin.
The pink shade on her cheeks deepened. “Thanks,” she mumbled.
“My pleasure.”
“Are you like this with everyone? Or am I just lucky?” she asked, her voice tart.
“Like what?”
“Turning every word into a proposition?”
I laughed. “Only for you, babe.”
She shoved me playfully and all I could think was, Don’t ever take your hands off of me. Please.
We faced off across from each other, her hands on my chest. She was close enough that if I just leaned forward, I could kiss her. Our breath mingled, our faces nearly touching. Her fingers curled into the fabric of my jacket, holding me in place. I didn’t move. I just sat there, staring at her. Waiting to see what she would do next, wondering how I would respond. There was an invitation in her eyes that made me want to close the distance between us. There was a defensiveness in her stance that held me back.
Suddenly Maggie broke the connection, looking away from me. She reached down, grabbing her bag. I sat there, watching her, my hands at my sides, struggling not to reach out and take what I so desperately wanted.
Whatever had passed between us disappeared as quickly as it had flared. Its absence left a chill in the air.
“I’m going to head back to the dorm,” Maggie announced.
“I thought you were waiting for Fleur.”
“I better go before you do full-on proposition me here on the steps.”
Her words were light, but her eyes and her voice were sad. I knew what she was trying to do, hated faking it with her. But I played along. It was easier not to be serious with her.
“I bet I could have you naked in three minutes flat.”
She laughed, the sound filling the air. “Come on, Samir. You know I’m not that kind of girl. It would take at least ten.”
“Then it would be the best ten minutes of my life,” I answered honestly.
She turned away for a moment, hiding her face, before looking back at me. “I’ll see you around.”
I wanted to ask her to stay. I wanted to keep joking with her, talking with her, anything to keep her near me. I wanted to strip her naked on the steps. I wanted it all, and I had a right to none of it. So I simply nodded.
“See you