I See London

by Chanel Cleeton

  I moved to the side of the sidewalk, hovering under the green awning at Harrods. I turned toward the windows, struggling to hide my tears from the crowd. Samir had been right all along, I was an idiot.

  “Where are you?”

  “Knightsbridge. I’m in front of Harrods.”

  Krispy Kreme sounded like the perfect idea right about now. We needed to drown our sorrows in something. Why not fried dough?

  “What are you doing?”

  “Walking home.”

  “In your dress?”

  “I didn’t have money for a cab, so I’ve been walking.”

  “He didn’t drive you home?”

  “It was his friend’s wedding. I couldn’t exactly ask him to leave. Besides, I’d already told him I was fine before I realized I didn’t have any cash.”

  “It’s raining.”

  I looked up in the sky. It was the quintessential London night—the weather not bad enough to be a full-on storm and yet gloomy enough to suit my mood. “It’s not bad. Barely drizzling. I’m almost back anyways.”

  “When you get back can we just get miserably drunk tonight and eat lots of chocolate?”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, that sounds like exactly what I need. I’ll bring doughnuts, too.”

  * * *

  I ended up with a dozen doughnuts. It seemed like the appropriate amount to treat two cases of heartbreak. I juggled the Harrods bag in my hands while I punched in the code to the room. I had tried knocking, but Fleur hadn’t answered. After two tries I got it right. I pushed the door open, the room dark and quiet. I closed the door behind me, fumbling for the light switch, my elbow hitting the wall.

  “Ow.” I cursed, flipping the switch. The doughnuts dropped out of my hands.

  Fleur lay facedown on the ground in front of her bed, a pile of vomit next to her.

  “Fleur?” I rushed toward her, my heart pounding madly. “Fleur!” I reached out and shook her, turning her body over. She was pale. Too pale. Her eyes rolled back in her head. “Fleur!”

  I reached down, fumbling for a pulse, trying madly to remember any first aid I knew. Her pulse was faint, but it was there. I scrambled over to my bag, pulling my cell out. Fingers shaking, I dialed the emergency number as I fumbled over the keys. “Please, please, please.”

  A woman picked up on the third or fourth ring. Her clipped British accent filled the line. “What’s your emergency?”

  “My roommate. She’s lying on the floor, unconscious.”

  “Is she breathing?” The woman’s voice was remarkably calm as she fired off questions at me.

  “I think so. Her breaths seem shallow.” My voice reached a high pitch, the words tumbling from my mouth in a mad rush.

  “Did she take anything?”

  I scanned the floor near Fleur’s body. My gaze settled on a small baggie. There were two pills in the bag. My heart sank. “Yes. There are pills on the floor.”

  “Where are you?”

  I gave her all of the necessary information for the school, panic filling me with each second that passed. She asked me a few more questions, which I struggled to answer.

  “Help is on the way. They should be there in a few minutes.”

  Tears ran down my cheek, my heart pounding madly in my chest. I turned my attention back to Fleur. “Stay with me, Fleur, stay with me.” She moaned. “Fleur!” She moaned again, her eyelids fluttering.

  I cradled her head in my lap, waiting for the paramedics to arrive. I thought about running to get help, but I quite simply couldn’t bear the thought of leaving her. So I sat with her, praying she would be all right.

  She was breathing, shallowly, but she was breathing.

  After what felt like an eternity, the paramedics pounded on our door. I released her, gently setting her head back down on the ground, jumping to my feet and rushing to let them in. “She seems conscious,” I babbled by way of a greeting. “She’s not responding or anything.”

  They spoke to me briefly, asking questions about when I found her, how long she had been unconscious, if she had any allergies or drug habits. I answered them as best I could, all the while staring at the paramedics working on her. They moved me out of the way, crowding around Fleur’s body, yelling things out to each other—in words that might as well have been a foreign language for all I understood them.

  “Maggie!”

  I whirled around.

  George came through the door. “I’m on duty for Residence Life tonight. What happened?” His gaze flew to the ground where Fleur lay, the paramedics loading her on a stretcher.

  “I came back to the room and she was like this.” My voice broke. “I called for help.”

  “What’s wrong with her?”

  I hesitated. “I think she took something.” George’s expression darkened. “She was upset…”

  The paramedics lifted Fleur up on the stretcher, motioning for us to move out of the doorway.

  I grabbed my purse off the dresser. “I’m going with her.”

  George nodded. “I’ll come, too.”

  We left in an ambulance.

  * * *

  The wait in the hospital was agonizing. Mya had already left on vacation with her parents. Michael was flying back to the U.S. tonight. So I sat with George, waiting for any news from Fleur’s doctors.

  Mrs. Fox came down to the hospital to handle things until Fleur’s parents were able to fly in from France. But there was only one person I wanted with me right now. I dialed the number, panic bubbling in my chest as the phone rang and rang. Finally voice mail picked up.

  “This is Samir. Leave a message.”

  I waited for the beep. “It’s Maggie. Fleur’s in the hospital in Chelsea. She’s alive but she’s not doing well.” My voice broke off with a strangled sob. “Please come.”

  I disconnected the call, leaning back in the waiting room chair, fear and panic coursing through my body.

  And I waited.

  An hour later he came bursting through the hospital doors.

  Samir rushed toward me. “What happened?” he demanded, his voice hoarse. “Are you all right? What happened to Fleur?”

  I nodded, tears flowing down my face. “I found her in our room. They think she took something. They don’t know.” I brushed furiously at my face, batting away the tears. “She called me earlier. She was upset about Costa. I was on my way back. We were going to have a girls’ night. Drink wine, that sort of thing. I don’t know where she got the drugs.”

  “Is she going to be okay?”

  “I don’t know.” I couldn’t make the tears stop. “They won’t tell me anything. Mrs. Fox is talking to the doctors now.”

  Samir wrapped his arm around my waist, gathering me against his body. He tucked my head against his chest. “Shh,” he whispered, his lips grazing my ear.

  “She can’t die.” The words slipped out amid a rising panic building in my chest.

  “She won’t.”

  I couldn’t get the image of Fleur lying on the floor, her body pale, her eyes lifeless, out of my mind. I shivered.

  “Are you cold?”

  I nodded. I realized then that in my haste to make it to the hospital I hadn’t even grabbed my coat. I still wore the same evening gown I wore to the wedding. My hair had long since escaped its updo, tumbling down my shoulders.

  Samir pulled away from me. Shrugging out of his jacket, he draped it over my shoulders. “Better?”

  I nodded, barely trusting my own voice. “Thank you.” I filled him in on what Fleur had told me about her last conversation with Costa.

  “I’m going to kill Costa.”

  “That makes two of us.” I was a mix of emotions that bubbled up, threatening to spill over the surface. There was anger—a burning, deep anger. I wanted revenge, wanted to punish this boy who hurt my best friend. Fear gnawed at me, settling deep in my belly. It was the same fear that had my heart pounding madly in my chest from the first moment that I discovered Fleur’s body lying on the fl
oor of our room.

  Samir released me abruptly, turning toward the long hallway opposite the waiting room. Mrs. Fox walked toward us.

  “She’s going to be fine,” Mrs. Fox announced.

  Relief flooded me. I sagged against Samir.

  “She’s tired now, and she’s resting.” Her gaze flickered between me and Samir, her voice gentle. “For right now the doctors are only letting family visit with her. But tomorrow I’m sure you can visit, Maggie. I know she’ll want to see you. Her parents should be here soon.”

  “She’s going to be okay, then?” Samir asked, his expression still tense.

  “She’s going to be fine, Samir. I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you.” She turned to me. “Would you like to go back to school together?”

  I hesitated, reluctant to leave Fleur.

  “I’ll take care of her. I promise,” Samir interjected, his gaze on mine. “You should get some rest anyway.” He gestured toward my outfit. “And you should probably change.”

  “Are you sure you’re all right by yourself?” I hated leaving him.

  “You heard Mrs. Fox. Fleur’s parents will be here soon. It’s probably easier for them if it’s just family. Go, Maggie. Rest.”

  I waited while Mrs. Fox finished speaking with the doctors. I gathered up my stuff to leave with her and George, saying goodbye to Samir.

  I had only taken a few steps down the hall when I heard his voice behind me.

  “Hey, Maggie…”

  I turned.

  Samir stood in the middle of the hospital hallway, his hands shoved into his coat pockets. I could still smell the scent of his cologne on my skin. It clung to me, invading my pores. Samir hesitated for a moment, looking uncharacteristically unsure of himself.

  “You look beautiful tonight.”

  I froze for a moment, standing there blinking like an idiot. I had no idea how to respond. Saying thanks seemed insignificant somehow.

  Before I could answer him he was gone.

  Chapter 47

  I didn’t sleep all night. Every time I closed my eyes I saw Fleur’s body lying on the floor. Unfortunately not sleeping also meant I had plenty of time to think of my breakup with Hugh—and Samir.

  I packed instead.

  I threw stuff into my suitcase, rising feelings of panic bubbling up inside. It had been a shit couple of days and I wasn’t sure how the hell I was going to move forward. For the first time I actually was looking forward to going home. I needed to get the hell out of here. Fast.

  “Is she going to be all right?”

  I looked up at the sound of Noora’s voice. She had spent last night at her aunt’s flat, but clearly the International School gossip had made its way to her.

  I smiled weakly. “Yeah, I think so. Her family is with her now.” Samir had texted me earlier to tell me that Fleur’s parents had arrived from France.

  “I can’t believe you found her. You must have been terrified.”

  “I was.”

  Noora reached out, wrapping her arms around me. “Do you need anything?”

  “I’m fine. Thanks, though.”

  She released me, walking over to her side of the room and sinking down on the bed. “Are you going home soon?” She gestured toward my suitcases.

  “Yeah, I leave tomorrow.”

  “I’ll just miss you then. My flight leaves tonight.”

  She stood up, grabbing a few books off her shelf. Her side of the room looked so barren, her things all packed. “I have to run and meet some friends from class.” She enveloped me in another hug. “I’ll see you next year.”

  “See you next year.”

  After she left, I returned to my packing. I grabbed a stack of papers from my desk, pausing when I came to a photo of me, Mya and Fleur standing on a bridge over the Grand Canal in Venice. We were all smiling, our hair blowing in the wind, arms linked. Back then everything had seemed shiny and new, the world full of possibilities. Now it just felt as though everything was falling apart.

  “Knock, knock.”

  My head jerked up, my face lighting up at the sight of Michael standing in my doorway, his arm propped against the door.

  “Michael!” I ran to him, throwing my arms around him. He caught me easily in his arms. “I thought you had left already. What happened?”

  “I missed my flight and the next one they could put me on was tonight.”

  I pulled back. “Did you hear?” My voice broke. “Have you seen her?”

  Michael nodded, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, Samir called me. I visited her today. Samir asked me to check on you, too.”

  I’d file that piece of information to be dissected later. “How is she?”

  “She’s doing okay. Her parents were with her.” He smiled wryly. “I think she likes all of the attention.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know how you can joke about it. You didn’t see her. You didn’t see what she looked like, lying on the floor…”

  “She’s going to be fine,” Michael promised, his tone serious. “I expect from now on Fleur won’t party as hard. It’s probably better that she learned the lesson on her own this way rather than something worse. She was lucky you were there for her. It could have been a lot worse.”

  Anger filled me. “I don’t get you guys. You act like a drug overdose is no big deal. She could have died.”

  I knew I wasn’t mad at Michael, but I couldn’t help but direct some of my anger at him. He was here; Fleur wasn’t.

  “You guys?” He quirked a brow at me. “You aren’t one of us?”

  “I don’t think I was ever one of you.” I tucked my hair behind my ear. “I wanted to be. It was so glamorous, the parties, the clothes, the cars, the guys…” I shook my head. “But this? Finding my roommate on the floor?” I grabbed a stack of sweaters and set them down in my suitcase with an angry motion.

  “I know you’re upset, but you’re freaking out. Fleur’s going to be fine. You’re going to be fine. We’re all going to be fine,” he repeated as if saying it was enough to make it true.

  I met his gaze evenly, suddenly feeling so tired. “Why does everything feel so fucked up?”

  “Because it is. For a moment. But things will get better. Fleur’s way too self-involved to not bounce back from this.”

  I shook my head.

  Michael grasped my hand. “And you’re way too fabulous to shrink back into life in rural South Carolina. London was made for you.”

  “I don’t think so anymore.”

  “What else is wrong?”

  I bit my lip. Given what just happened with Fleur, my problems seemed so trivial. “Nothing.”

  Michael frowned. “It’s not nothing. You’re upset. What happened?”

  “Hugh ended things with me. Last night.”

  Michael rolled his eyes, an impatient sigh escaping from his lips. “Hugh dumped you, so what? Do you want to be another Fleur and spend a year pining over some guy who didn’t have his shit together? Or do you want to be someone fabulous? Don’t let a few setbacks make you change who you are. You were born for this. Own it.”

  I scowled at him. “I wasn’t exactly looking for a pep talk.”

  “Well, tough shit. You’re getting one. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You can do better than this. Who are you, Maggie?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know who I am anymore. I don’t know what to do anymore.”

  “Bullshit. Who are you? Who do you want to be? Someone mopey and sad or someone fabulous?”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “I want to be someone fabulous.”

  “Good girl.” Michael reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief.

  I took it from him, gingerly blowing my nose. I stared down at his monogram etched into the fine linen fabric. “I don’t know any guy our age who carries a handkerchief.”

  Michael grinned, tossing me a wink. “That’s because you don’t know anyone else like me.”

  “True.”

  “Listen.
Go put some makeup on. Clean yourself up and go be fabulous. Go see Fleur. You have one day—and one night—left in London. Make it count.”

  Chapter 48

  Make it count.

  The hospital was far quieter in the day than it had been last night. Gone were the sketchy people and the frantic air that pervaded the place. Today it was calmer. Still, the memory of rushing in with Fleur, desperately hoping she would be all right, sent chills down my spine. The feeling stayed with me all the way to her room. It filled my throat as I stared at her, lying in her hospital bed, amazed by how small she seemed.

  “You can’t do that again.”

  Fleur blushed. “I know.”

  “I thought you were dead.”

  “I know. I’m sorry,” she replied. It was the first time I had ever seen true remorse on Fleur’s face. “Thank you for saving me. If you hadn’t been there…”

  I shook my head. “Of course. I’m just glad you’re okay.” I gave her a firm stare. “He’s not worth it.”

  “Yeah, I know that, too. Now,” she added bitterly.

  “I wish you’d learned that lesson months ago.”

  Her voice was quiet. “It wasn’t just about Costa.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She looked down at the sheets, playing with the cotton fabric. “No one knows this. Not even Samir. Just my parents and Costa. Did you hear about how I missed a month of school last year?”

  “Yeah, Mya told me.”

  “I was pregnant.”

  My jaw dropped.

  Tears filled her eyes. “We were always careful, but one time we weren’t and that was all it took. I was terrified when I found out. I told Costa. He was nervous—we talked about all of our options.” Naked pain filled her eyes. “But even from the beginning, I couldn’t get the idea of this baby out of my mind. Would it have my eyes or his? I wanted a little girl.”

  I couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe she’d carried all of this with her for over a year now.

  “I decided to have the baby. I was so excited. I didn’t tell anyone, wanted to keep it a secret for as long as I could—until we could figure things out.”