He’s your roommate’s boyfriend.
My class schedule was full—fifteen credit hours—but for the most part, the classes were interesting. My professors were nice enough. Just like the student body, the faculty was a diverse group. I had five professors total, each from a different country.
I also had a ton of reading to do for the weekend.
After classes got out on Friday afternoon, I took the Tube down to Westminster. I was still learning the way the complicated system worked, trying to feel like a real Londoner. Luckily the color-coded lines helped a bit. I took the green line down a few stops from High Street Ken. When I left the station, I turned my head, struggling to get my bearings. Then I saw it.
The Houses of Parliament were one of the most awe-inspiring things I’d ever seen. They dominated the landscape, proud and strong. I crossed the street, standing in a grassy square opposite the buildings. I basked in the moment. This was the epicenter of history and politics. Greatness happened here. And somehow I was a part of it.
I hadn’t totally chosen the International School on a whim. When I received that horrid letter from Harvard, I panicked. I didn’t have a backup plan—not a good one, anyway. I had no desire to stay in the same town where I’d lived my whole life, feeling like I never quite fit in. I wanted a chance to do something different. If I couldn’t make one of my dreams happen, I wanted a chance at another one.
Ever since I was a kid I’d been fascinated by England. I couldn’t say for sure when the love affair started. Maybe it was all the pomp and majesty that came with the monarchy, so different from my quiet life in South Carolina. Or maybe it was the history or my romanticism, the love of books filled with dukes and earls. Whatever it was, London had been a dream, one I promised I would indulge when I graduated university and made something of myself.
Now, standing in front of Parliament, I felt the sense of accomplishment that had eluded me since my Harvard rejection. I was living my dream now.
Chapter 7
“So how is it? Are you homesick?”
I leaned back against my pillow, shifting the phone in my hand. My roommates were out for the day and it was the first time I had really had any privacy to call home. I talked to my grandparents before calling my best friend, Jo.
“It’s amazing. Even better than I thought it would be.”
“I’m so jealous.”
I grinned. “Whatever. You’re probably hanging out with all the frat guys at Carolina.”
“Okay, yeah, maybe I’ve been to a few parties.”
Jo was my oldest and closest friend. We met in the fifth grade when her mom forgot to pack her a lunch and I shared my pretzels with her. From that lunch we hit it off, despite the fact that we were an odd pairing. While I spent most of high school studying and focusing on Harvard, Jo spent her high school years partying with the football team.
“So how are the guys? Any hot British guys?”
I grinned. Trust Jo to get to the good stuff. “I did meet one.”
“Spill.”
I filled Jo in on the Hugh story, not in the least surprised by her excited squeals.
“Are you going to go to his bar?”
I hadn’t really thought about it. After everything that happened that night, Hugh hadn’t exactly been at the forefront of my mind.
“I don’t know.”
“Have you met anyone else? Have you kissed anyone yet?”
I blushed, grateful she couldn’t see my face. “Sort of.”
Jo shrieked into the phone. “Oh, my god, Maggie. I can’t believe I missed your first kiss. I need details on these things.”
I laughed. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I’ve been a bad friend. I should have called you instantly and filled you in.”
“Well, you can make it up to me now. Spill. Now.”
There was no way to tell the story and not come across looking like a bit of a ho.
“It’s not what you think. The guy is kind of an ass.”
“So why did you kiss him?”
“It just sort of happened. I don’t know. We were both drinking a lot, and then we were dancing, and we kissed. It was just a random, one-time thing.”
“Was it good?”
I hesitated. So good I couldn’t stop thinking about it. “Yeah, it was.”
“Are you going to do it again?”
Only in the strangely erotic dreams I couldn’t seem to shake.
“Nope.”
There was a pause on the end of the line.
I sighed. “Fine. What?”
“I’m not saying anything.”
“I know you aren’t. I’ve also known you long enough to know that means something. So spill.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way—”
I laughed. “Well, that’s an encouraging start.”
“I just want you to be happy.”
“I am happy.”
“You do realize that making out with a random guy is the first spontaneous thing I’ve probably ever seen you do.”
“That’s not fair,” I protested. “I came to London. What was that if not spontaneous?”
“Okay, fine. You’re right. You going to London was a little spontaneous. But you have to admit, you weren’t really going outside of your comfort zone. You’ve been talking about London since we were kids.”
“And drunkenly making out with a random guy is now your definition of spontaneity?”
“For you? Yes.”
Silence filled the line. I thought back to the dreams I’d been having since the night Samir and I kissed at Babel. This shit was way more complicated than I expected it to be. “I don’t know how to handle him. He’s way out of my league.”
“Try.”
“And he’s dating my roommate.”
“YOU KISSED YOUR ROOMMATE’S BOYFRIEND?”
I winced. “Thanks, Jo. I don’t think they heard you in Lithuania. He kissed me. But yeah, pretty much. And she’s an überbitch, so I’m just waiting for this to get out and her to kill me. Not to mention the fact that I’ve probably broken like fifty girl codes.”
Jo sighed. “Oh, Mags. When you go in, you go all in.”
“Tell me about it.”
* * *
“So what’s on the agenda for tonight?” Mya leaned back in her chair, pushing a half-eaten plate of food away.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Want to watch a movie or something? I should probably get started on homework.”
Mya frowned at me. “It’s Friday night. We just got through our first week of school. We’re not staying in and watching a movie. And homework is definitely out of the question. My brain needs a break.” Her eyes lit up. “Let’s go to Cobalt.”
Apparently filling her in on meetin Hugh had