by Lisa Swallow
“And pass an assignment for a change?”
He grins. “That too. Thanks for the help with the last one.”
“We all helped each other,” I remind him.
“You’re saying I’m not your favourite study buddy?” He sticks his bottom lip out and I fight a smile.
Is it wrong to be smug that Nate Campbell wants to spend time with me? We’ve spent a few sessions together alone now, and my guard against him drops more with each meeting. He’s an ordinary guy, in an extraordinary way. Ordinary because, despite his rising star, he’s little different to other guys on campus. Extraordinary because Nate’s good-looking and confident, and manages to charm his way around anybody. Including me. But this is more than me falling for his spin; when I’m with Nate there’s an underlying sexual tension I never expected and not because he tries.
I enjoy Nate’s company and look forward to our time together which is something I’ll never admit to him or anybody. Silly Fleur, falling for a Campbell. Nate’s more than people see – or I think he is – but he’s not the guy for me.
His phone beeps and he immediately grabs it. This time the message turns Nate’s expectant look into a smile. “Awesome. Finally!”
I bristle. “No, my favourite study buddy studies, and isn’t distracted by their phone.” My message alert sounds too and I fight the urge to pull it from my bag.
“Of course.” My phone beeps again. “Aren’t you going to see who that is?”
“It can wait.” Ethan. I’m waiting for a message from Ethan. But I need to prove a point to Nate.
“My time’s up. I have to go.” Nate turns his phone around. 7 p.m. “So you’re allowed to look at yours now.”
“I can wait. We’re not all obsessed by technology.”
“Okay.” His amused smile irritates. “Catch you later.”
“Goodbye, Nate.”
The moment the door clicks shut behind him, I pull my phone out. When I see Ethan’s name on screen my heart skips. And when I read the message that he wants to meet me in the union, my evening changes from frustrating to fabulous.
“Knew it!”
I look up sharply at Nate standing in the doorway. “What do you want?”
“Nothing. Just checking.” With one more big grin I’d prefer to smack off his face, Nate leaves.
Chapter Eight
WILL
Beer will help.
And getting laid.
A few months back, I lived the dream, hot chicks landing in my lap every night as I rode the Blue Phoenix train. Perform, get wasted, party, girl, rinse, and repeat. Being associated with Blue Phoenix was the biggest aphrodisiac ever.
Now, back to uni, girls don’t conveniently disappear after one night. Nate learned quicker than me to slow down; he had a chick borderline obsessed after he did the love ‘em and leave ‘em thing and she didn’t accept the ‘leave ‘em’ part.
Since Jax lowered his profile, we have less of an entourage than last year. Not performing also keeps us off the radar. Still, we have a fan base and once a week, Nate organises a night out with a few of them. So, yeah, getting laid is top of my list.
“Hey, man!” calls Nate as I head into our usual corner of the student union.
Several tables are pushed together below a low Perspex roof, enough distance from the music speakers to be able to speak but not too far on the edge. I puff air into my cheeks as I look over. My time with Fleur has eaten into my drinking time; this group has a volume louder than anybody else around, and a lot more empty glasses on the table.
Won’t take me long to catch up.
I approach and pull out one of the cheap chrome chairs to sit. Nate has his arm around a girl. Cute. Blonde. Can’t take her eyes off him.
“Hey,” I mutter.
The blonde girl turns as I speak and her eyes widen. She drags her gaze between us. “You’re the same!”
Looking at her drunken eyes, I conclude we’d look the same to her even if we were the opposite sex.
“Erin,” says Nate and gestures, arm over her shoulder.
“Nice,” I mouth as Erin looks away and drinks.
Nate grins.
I size up the other chicks around the table. Some are with guys, but two or three aren’t.
Awesome.
Half an hour later, a first year who regales me with theories of what our lyrics mean, and how she ‘fucking loves’ us, edges closer. The beer flows and I relax, enjoying the attention, pretty sure this chick is up for a trip to my bed.
The union has filled in the time we’ve sat with our audience and I screw my face up as I look at the throng between us and the bar. The group at the table grows, and plans form what we’ll do later.
“Nate! Your round!” I call above the increasing noise.
“Aren’t we going back to ours?” he calls back.
“Yes!” enthuses his blonde friend. “Seriously, so cool.”
I shake my head. “Nah. Club tonight; go on. I feel like a lot of noise and a lot of dancing.”
Nate arches a brow. “Slow down with the beers then.”
“I have catching up to do.”
Nate unwinds the girl’s arm from around his neck and pushes his chair back, reaching into his pocket for his wallet as he heads to the bar. Most would edge around the groups; Nate ploughs straight through the middle. I shake my head at his arrogance, but most people step out of his way.
I rest my arms over the seat back and take a closer look at the girl with me. I could do with some attention right now; have my ego stroked. Amongst other things.
I look back to where Nate’s heading.
Fleur.
Crap.
Has he seen her? I’m drunk, edging towards wasted, and my brain isn’t functioning. Nate isn’t far behind, I’ve lost count of the number of beers we’ve had.
Not good.
I hope to hell he recognises Fleur and doesn’t say anything to her.
Fleur’s with the guy from the library – the Mr. Perfect, shiny guy. She’s holding his hand, and his other is on her ass. As if that’s not bad enough, the guy is checking out every other chick who walks past, even though Fleur can’t take her eyes off him.
My head hurts with a rush of anger and I blink. Calm the fuck down, Will. Not my problem.
I shake my head, but the world doesn’t right itself again. My evening is about to become complicated.
****
FLEUR
I forget that ‘quiet drink’ and ‘student union’ aren’t phrases that match at this time on a Friday; no wonder Ethan looked surprised when I suggested it. Hardly the best place to chat. We’ve met up a few times in the last couple of weeks, usually a coffee after class where conversation has stuck to the subjects we both study. Today at the library, he asked me out for a drink.
Friday night out and a drink.
When he curls an arm around me and places his hand on my ass, I’m torn between telling him to let go and allowing myself to be seen as his. Not like he’s squeezing or groping, just resting his hand. I can live with that. The time I’ve spent lusting over this guy allows this.
Every time I’ve sat with Ethan and talked about the reunion of Germany or our dissertation topics, I’ve stared at the soft, blonde hair on his arms, wanting to stroke him, or fixated on his full mouth imagining how he kisses. A hand on my ass is one step closer to his mouth on mine.
“Meeting some friends later,” he says, breath against my face as he talks straight into my ear.
My excitement wanes. “Oh, right.”
“Sorry, boy’s night, but we can catch up tomorrow?”
“Sure.”
Ethan turns on his dazzling smile, straight white teeth and dimples. Oh God, he has dimples. “I wanted to see you though, before I went out. Don’t want you thinking I’d stand you up.”
“No, it’s fine.”
“So, what are you having?”
“Just a beer.”
“You got it.”
I appreci
atively stare at Ethan’s backside as he stands at the bar until I’m distracted by a guy of a similar height standing next to him. The twins aren’t the only students rocking their image, but something about how they pull it off outshines the others. Will or Nate? I stiffen.
He’s a similar height and build to Ethan, but that’s where the similarity ends. To Ethan, grunge is what you’d find in the plughole attracting more grossness; to my rock star friend, it’s a natural state of being that attracts girls.
Fine, I see why; I haven’t failed to notice that if they took some metal out of their skin and tidied themselves up they’d be hot as hell. Okay, many think they already are, but mismatching clothes with torn arms don’t scream sexy to me. No thanks. Ethan’s smart blue shirt stretching across his broad shoulders. Yes, please.
I haven’t seen Will since his dickhead performance at the party. As soon as he turns around, I’ll be able to tell which twin this is by the expression on his face.
“Nate, man!” A blond guy approaches and claps him on the back. “I timed that awesomely. Mine’s a pint.”
Nate turns his head and says something to his friend and they have a conversation I can’t hear, where Nate indicates a different part of the building. Nodding, the blond guy wanders off.
Nate turns around holding several beer bottles by the neck in each hand. As he notices me, I smile. “Hey.”
Nate’s eyes widen and he nods. “Hey.”
“Your message was about a night out too, huh?”
“Um. Yeah.”
I swear he’s about to step away from me. Nate was weird when we were alone before, but now he refuses to look me in the eye.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
“Yeah, good. You?”
“Good.”
“Right.” Nate inclines his head in the direction his friend went then holds up the beers. “Gotta go.”
Before I can summon a response, he pushes through the bodies. Rude, much? Okay, so we’re not best friends; but up until tonight, we chat. Am I too uncool to be seen talking to? Worried people will think we’re an item?
Ethan turns too. “You okay?”
“Fine. Thanks for the beer.”
One of the hottest guys I know is giving me attention, so why am I pissed off that Nate practically ignored me? I’m his equal. Who cares if he’s famous these days? He can’t be nice to me only when he feels like it to get what he wants. The bastard is using me. He’s as bad as his brother.
****
WILL
I chew on a nail as Nate approaches. He spoke to Fleur.
Fuck.
When Nate sets my beer down in front of me, he flashes me a look and shakes his head. “Your friend spoke to me.”
“What did you say to her?” I shift away from the girl next to me and lower my voice.
“Nothing. Hello, basically; I didn’t know what the fuck to say!”
“Do you think she noticed?”
“I don’t bloody know. I had to get away before she started chatting about your special sessions together.”
“We don’t have special sessions!”
“Whatever.” He pulls a chair up next to me. “You’re gonna have to tell her.”
“I can’t! How pissed off do you think she’ll be?”
“Very. But not as pissed off as I’ll be if this gets complicated. I should never have agreed.” He pauses. “Wait, I didn’t, did I? You just bloody did it!”
“I passed my last assignment.”
“Go, you.”
“No, listen. She’s helping, a lot.”
Nate grunts and swigs from his bottle. “Sort this. I’ve had enough.”
I haven’t. I’m lying to myself this is about study. Honestly, I don’t think I’ll pass even with Fleur and the group’s help, and I have my hopes pinned on the album release’s success. This is about Fleur.
I may be delusional, but the more time I spend with the chick, the more she warms to me. Something weird joins us in the room when we’re alone; a relaxed calm some days and others a different energy in the air.
In our one on one study sessions, I once caught Fleur watching me. I met her parted-lipped gaze and her cheeks turned pink as she switched focus to the laptop. The idea Fleur’s attraction matches mine interrupted my heartbeat for a moment, and then I remembered my screw up.
I look back to Fleur, but she’s disappeared into the crowd.
How do I sort this without hurting her?
Chapter Nine
WILL
I hang back after the study session, following a weekend of deliberating what to do. The incident at the Union was a wake-up call to two things: one, Fleur is never going to be interested in me; and two, any semblance of friendship will be fucked up when she finds out who I really am. From experience, people who discover me and Nate have tricked them over our identities aren’t happy. Those who find out from other sources are, without exception, pissed off. Nate’s not happy for me to continue, I understand that, but I don’t want to lose Fleur’s friendship. Haha.
Ruby Riot has the first of our rehearsal sessions at the weekend, the album due for release at the end of the month. That means less time on campus and a perfect opportunity to admit the deceit and let things blow over. Nita’s always ready with a smile, perhaps I can persuade her to help me out when Fleur inevitably tells me to fuck off.
Fleur’s happier today than the last few times, a relaxed aura around tempering the tension she normally carries. Knowing chicks, I can guess why. Mr. Perfect has surrounded her in Disney bluebirds and butterflies. The green monster takes a bite at my heart, then points out that I can’t have any girl I want the way I thought I could. For a few moments, Fleur doesn’t notice me as she texts on her phone, wearing a soppy smile.
Retch.
I bet they’re kisses and hugs, I can’t imagine Fleur sexting.
“Did you want something?” Fleur asks when she finally notices me.
“Wanted to talk to you,” I mumble.
“Now? I have to be somewhere in ten.”
“It won’t take long.”
Fleur sits back on a chair, setting her phone in front of her. “You’re not what I expected.”
“No?” I perch on the edge of the table.
“Less arrogant. Apart from the other night. What was that? Too cool to be seen talking to me?”
I frown. She’s not annoyed, but amused. “I was drunk.”
“Hmm. At least your brother wasn’t around. Does he always behave like that at parties? To girls, I mean.”
I stare into her blue eyes, at her friendly smile, and bottle out of telling her. Next time. One more assignment.
“We’re both wankers sometimes.”
Fleur laughs and a warm feeling fills my chest. I made her laugh and smile. She’s a serious chick, not a full-on nerd but always focused on work above everything else. Maybe Eager Ethan helps her relax.
The monster takes another bite.
“I guess you’re allowed to be,” she replies.
“You think?”
“I’ve seen how people react to you – not just girls but the industry. You have talent, not surprised your heads are swelling.”
“Do you like the band?”
“Me? I liked that song you did, the one everybody knows.”
“‘My Kinda Disaster’?”
“I think so, but I don’t pay much attention to Ruby Riot, sorry.”
It’s my turn to laugh. “People like you help with the not-being-a-wanker thing. You treat me like an ordinary person.”
“You are an ordinary person, Nate.”
“Sheesh, thanks.”
“Tell you what, when Ruby Riot win an award and hit the top of the charts, ask me again. Then I might admit you’re special.”
I’m on the verge of asking Fleur to our next gig, but swallow down the words. How can I? Nate will be there.
“Sorry about being rude at the weekend,” I say.
“Doesn’t matter, you weren’t
really, just being rock star Nate.” She pauses. “At least you’re not your brother. Does he do that a lot to girls who say no?”
I’m a fucking idiot. How did I get here? Why didn’t I take a chance on telling her that first afternoon and prove I wasn’t the same guy when I was sober?
“Uh. No. I think he genuinely likes you.”
Fleur bites the corner of her mouth and shakes her head. “Don’t try and stick up for him. I think he saw me as a challenge.”
“No, he isn’t like that.”
“Sure, he isn’t. I’ve seen the pair of you covered in girls.”
“Ah, well, that’s because the girls can’t help themselves.” Fleur makes a soft sound of derision. “Anyway, Jax doesn’t anymore; he found a girl. Maybe I should do the same.”
“I doubt that’s a good idea.”
“Why?”
“Twenty-one-year-old guy on the cusp of stardom? She’d have to be something special.”
“Yeah, like I said, Jax has done it.”
Fleur doesn’t respond, but I can see the doubt on her face. “If I was one of those girls, I would steer clear. Guys like you will leave a trail of shattered hearts across the globe soon.”
I laugh. “Any guy can break your heart; he doesn’t have to be a rock star.”
“You are correct, but I’m lowering my odds and keeping away from them.”
“Of course, because you’re with a guy anyway.”
“Early days. Why are you asking? Going to tell Will?” Her tone is teasing. “I bet he’ll be devastated when he hears!”
“He knows he’d never stand a chance with you.”
“This a twin intuition thing?”
“Nah, I mean you’re Miss Sensible and studious. Can’t see you with a tattooed slacker.”
“Then I guess you understand me better than I thought.” She pushes her hair behind an ear. “I doubt he’d be happy if he knew you were saying this stuff to me.”
I grin and swing my legs from the desk. “True. He’d kick my ass if he knew I was spilling his secret crush.” I’m him. Tell her I’m Will. You’re a bloody coward.
“Crush?” Her brow creases. “That’s a bit far. Are you teasing me?”
“No!”