“Maggie hasn’t been bad this year,” Fleur protested. “Now that the Hugh thing is over, she’s not obsessing over anyone.”
Inwardly, I winced.
“Maybe you both need a distraction.” Mya’s gaze darted from me to Fleur. “We need something to look forward to that doesn’t involve guys. This semester has been boring. We need to shake it up a bit.”
“Shake it up how?”
“Fall break.”
I grinned. “Not another epic trip. I don’t think my liver, bank account or sanity can handle it.”
“Weak. I’m talking about a trip to Spain. The three of us. We could go to Marbella.”
A slow grin spread across Fleur’s face. “That’s actually a really good idea.”
“I don’t know...”
Mya shot me a meaningful look. “It could be just the chance you need. A break to get away from things and figure out what you want. It’s a good chance to clear your head. Besides, I need a reprieve from all of the shit with my parents.”
“I’m definitely in,” Fleur announced. “Maybe we could invite Samir. He seems kind of down lately. He could probably use this trip as much as we could.”
I froze. No way.
“I’m not going if Samir goes,” I blurted out.
“Why?”
Oh god.
The most spectacularly awful cocktail of emotions flooded me. Guilt. Guilt for lying to Fleur, for having sex with a guy who had a girlfriend, for not feeling as guilty as I probably should for having sex with a guy who had a girlfriend. Fear. The same yawning fear that had me worrying Fleur would find out about me and Samir. Now was my chance to say, I don’t want Samir to go because he was inside me less than twenty-four hours ago and I don’t know how to deal with seeing him right now.
But I didn’t say that. I didn’t say anything.
“Because it’s a girl trip,” Mya interjected.
Fleur frowned.
“Look, I don’t want to fight about it, okay? If you want to go to Spain, fine, I’ll go,” Mya responded, totally taking one for the team. “But no Samir. He makes things uncomfortable.”
Fleur sighed. “Fine. We’ll go to Spain. No Samir.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Maggie
I PICKED UP my phone, scrolling through my messages. Nothing. It had been five days since Samir and I had sex, and I hadn’t seen him once. The less frequently used, logical part of my brain knew he was doing what I’d asked. Unfortunately, when sex came into the equation, logic flew out the window.
“I can’t fit everything.”
I stared at the massive pile of clothes next to Fleur’s Louis Vuitton luggage. “Big surprise.”
She rolled her eyes. “I need to look hot in Spain.”
“I thought you were dating George.”
“I am dating George. But we haven’t had the exclusivity talk, and it’s only been a few dates. That doesn’t mean I can’t flirt, does it?”
“Don’t look at me. I’m not exactly an expert on the dating rules.”
“We need to find you someone in Spain. Your dry spell has been going on for way too long.” Fleur’s eyes lit up. “I know! What about Max? We can double date.”
“Seriously?”
“I know, I know. He’s kind of boring and a bit of a jerk.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “I don’t think he’s boring or a jerk. He’s just a little quiet.”
“See, you already like him. And he is kind of hot, if you like beefy American guys. Have you noticed the abs?”
I grinned. “I have noticed the abs, although not as much as I’m beginning to think you have. He’s nice. But I don’t like beefy American guys, and I promise you, he’s not interested in me.”
Fleur groaned. “Maybe Mya will date him then. He’s always around when I hang out with George. I need someone to take him off my hands.”
“So this is less about my love life and what, more about your boredom?”
“Maybe.”
I snorted. “Thanks.”
“Sorry, not sorry. I don’t like him. He makes fun of me and he’s a giant pain in the ass.”
“He makes fun of you?”
The few times I’d hung around with Max he seemed like a nice enough guy. I couldn’t really see him being mean.
“Well, maybe not out loud, but he makes these faces when I talk. Like I’m boring him. He thinks I’m stupid.”
“He doesn’t think you’re stupid.”
“He does. I don’t get why George even hangs out with him.”
“Maybe because they’re friends. Maybe people wonder why I’m friends with you,” I teased.
She grinned at that one. “Please. People think you’re lucky to be friends with me.”
I laughed. “You’re such an asshole. You want my advice? Be nice to George’s friends. I talked to Max the night we all went bowling. He’s not a bad guy. Give him a chance.”
“You’re too easy on people.”
I grinned. “Compared to you? Maybe.”
“Can you blame me? If anything, I wish I’d trusted people a little less.” She shut her eyes for a moment. “Have you heard any more about the Costa rumor?”
“No.”
It was weird that it hadn’t gotten out more. Stranger still that Mya, one of Fleur’s closest friends, was the one who’d first heard it. It was beginning to feel less like normal International School gossip and more like a coordinated plot against Fleur, and I couldn’t help but wonder when the other shoe would drop.
“Did you find out who Mya heard it from?”
I’d done as much investigating as I could without raising suspicion. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a ton to go on.
“She heard it from that girl Amara. You know the one, she was in our bio class last year.”
“Who’d she hear it from?”
“A friend of a friend. You know how it is. The trail disappears within the labyrinth of International School gossip. I’m worried the more we poke at it, the more likely they’ll figure out why we want to know.”
“Do you think Natasha knows?” Fleur’s expression filled with distaste.
Costa’s girlfriend. The girl he’d left Fleur for.
“I’m not sure. Do you think he would tell her?”
“I don’t know. I want to think he wouldn’t, that he’s better than that. But apparently nothing I thought about him was right. If it was Natasha, then he’s doing everything in his power to ruin me. She hates me—she’s always wanted Costa, even when he was mine. If she does know about the baby, there’s a reason she’s not spreading the news right now and I promise you, it’s not out of the goodness of her heart. She would do anything to see me look bad in front of the whole school.”
That was what I feared.
“Do you think she’s behind the blackmail? Have you gotten any more emails?”
“No. I don’t know if it’s Natasha or not, but it definitely sounds like something she would do.”
“You could try talking to her,” I suggested, knowing the odds of success weren’t great.
Fleur sighed. “I don’t know. I’m not kidding. She hates me. And that’s even without her knowing Costa and I fooled around last year.” She grimaced. “I’m trying to change things. I’m dating George now. I barely go out. I actually read in most of my classes. Fine, some of my classes. I don’t want to be the girl who had the drug overdose. I’m sick of people seeing me as just some stupid party girl. And if this gets out, nothing I do will even matter.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” I protested. “It wasn’t your fault. You had sex with your boyfriend. Since when is that a crime?”
“It won’t matter. I’m the Ice Queen, remember? Who doesn’t want to see me taken down a peg or two? I can’t even say I blame them. I’d probably do the same thing.”
“You wouldn’t.”
She shrugged. “Whatever.”
“You wouldn’t. You’re usually too self-absorbed to gossip about other p
eople,” I joked, struggling to lighten the mood.
That cracked a small smile on her lips. “True.”
I walked over to her side of the room and gave her a hug. “It’ll be okay. I promise. If it does get out, we’ll deal with it.”
A ringing sound interrupted us. I stared down at my phone. “Sorry. It’s my grandmother. I need to take this. I just sent her the info for my flight home in December.”
Fleur nodded. “I’m going to grab dinner with George, but I’ll hook up with you later.”
I hit “accept.”
“Hey, Grandma.”
“Maggie! I was worried I wouldn’t be able to catch you. How are you? It seems like it’s been weeks since we talked.”
Guilt filled me. It had been weeks. I’d been so busy with school and my friends and everything going on with Samir that I hadn’t thought to call home, hadn’t even thought about my life in South Carolina. How long had it been since I’d talked to Jo? Too long.
“I’m sorry. School has been really hectic. Did you get my email about Christmas break?”
“I did! I just showed your grandfather. We’re so excited to see you.”
“I’m excited to see you guys, too.”
“Have you heard the good news?”
“No. What’s up?”
“Your dad’s coming home for Christmas.”
For a moment, I couldn’t speak. I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to respond to that. I guess I was supposed to feel happy. Part of me—the only part that could claim any naïveté where my father was concerned—was happy. But it was just for a moment, one that slipped away when I remembered the years of broken promises, the years that had gone by without seeing him, and the new wife he’d sprung on me months ago.
“That’s great, Grandma.”
I felt an irrational urge to cancel my plane ticket. I wanted to see him... sort of. I wanted to see him if things between us could be different. I wanted to see him if he was going to start being a real parent, rather than someone who just flitted in and out of my life as if I were a virtual stranger. I wanted to see him if it wouldn’t hurt so much.
“He’s bringing his wife home with him. He wants everyone to meet her.”
Now I definitely wanted to cancel my ticket.
“She sounds wonderful,” my grandmother continued, oblivious to my complete and utter freak-out. “She’s in the military, too. Isn’t that great?”
“Yeah, really great,” I echoed, sinking down on the bed.
“I know things have been rushed, sweetie, but I can’t help but think this is going to be a really good thing for you and your dad. I know she’s just going to love you.”
I found that hard to believe. I knew nothing about her. My dad had called to tell me he’d gotten married, and then I hadn’t heard from him for months. When we finally did talk over the summer, it had been brief. He’d gone straight from his deployment to an overseas remote assignment in South Korea. While there had been talk of him coming home to visit in between, I hadn’t held my breath, and he’d never made it. It was so typical that the first time I heard about him coming home was from my grandmother. He hadn’t called since the summer, and I didn’t have a way to reach him other than an email address he rarely used.
I knew my grandparents were happy that he’d married again. His marriage to my mother was a disaster that had ended in her abandoning her child and husband, so I didn’t blame them. But I was still angry. Maybe it was petty of me, but I couldn’t deny it. I was angry because he was taking a second chance at having a family, one he’d never given me. I was so young when my mother walked out on us, I didn’t remember anything else. I didn’t remember if we had been happy or acted like a normal family or any of it. All I knew was the after, the part where my elderly grandparents had done the best they could to raise me when I was dumped on them like a piece of unwanted luggage.
The thing was—I didn’t want to be angry anymore. I just wanted to be done. I wanted to not have to think about it anymore. That was the best part of being in London. I could forget here. I had my own life, one I’d chosen and one that made me happy, one where I felt for the first time in my life like I belonged. I didn’t want to go back to feeling like the little girl who was unwanted by both her parents. The girl who was impossible to love.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Maggie
WE FLEW INTO the small airport in Málaga, Spain, our flight crammed with British tourists who obviously had the same idea we did. The plane was smaller than any I’d ever flown on, the seats so cramped that Fleur struggled to open her copy of Tatler. The plane was my fault. It was cheap and easy, if not very comfortable. By the time we landed, Fleur was bitching about not flying private, and Mya and I were halfway drunk. A driver met us at the airport and took us to the hotel in Marbella, our luggage crammed into the small sedan.
Mya and Fleur chatted during the car ride. I stared down at my phone, scrolling through my text messages. Still nothing from Samir. It had been almost a week. I hadn’t seen him since I woke up in his bed.
This was the trouble with liking a boy. On Saturday I’d convinced myself he was bad for me and I needed to stay away. By the following Wednesday, I missed him so much I didn’t care. I wasn’t sure if that said more about my impulse control or my heart, but either way I was screwed.
I grimaced, thankful for the sunglasses covering my eyes. I hated asking, but I couldn’t stand the suspense.
“Have you seen Samir lately?” I asked Fleur, struggling to keep my tone casual.
“Not for a few days. He’s in Lebanon.”
“He’s what?”
“He went back a couple days ago. Monday maybe. Since we had the end of the week off, he didn’t think it would be a big deal to miss a few more days of classes.”
Had he always planned to go back to Lebanon? Why had he slept with me right before he went to see his girlfriend? How could he not tell me?
“Was it a planned trip?” Mya asked.
Thank god. I definitely owed her one for voicing the question I was too devastated to ask.
“I don’t know. He told me about it after he’d already left. I just know he’s there until tomorrow.” She frowned. “How much longer until we’re at the hotel?”
I heard Mya answer her, but I had no idea what she said. I turned away from both of them, staring out the car window, fighting back anger and tears. Maybe I’d been wrong all along. Maybe I wasn’t special; maybe he’d lied to me about everything with his girlfriend. It didn’t even matter, really. She had the title. She was someone official in his life, someone he didn’t hide under the cover of night. He didn’t text her in secret or fuck her in private only to disappear the next day.
How was it that I was smart in most aspects of my life and yet clueless when it came to relationships? I’d made myself a casual hook-up and he had taken what I’d offered and given nothing in return. I should have demanded more. I shouldn’t have been willing to settle for pieces of him when I wanted all of him.
I stared out the window, the Spanish countryside passing us by. The southern coast of Spain was beautiful, such a departure from the crowded London streets. This close to the water we were surrounded by palm trees and sand and small white Mediterranean-style houses with sunny ocean views peeking through along the drive. There was something so peaceful about the scenery—at least it should have been peaceful. The weight on my chest made it difficult to breathe.
I heard Fleur and Mya chatting away, but I made no effort to join in. Let them think I was sleeping—I didn’t care. I couldn’t keep doing this. The secret of what had happened between me and Samir was becoming too much, and suddenly I just wanted it gone. I needed to stop making this something, so it could be nothing and I could finally be free.
“I had sex with Samir. Twice.”
All conversation stopped.
Fleur turned, her gaze boring into me.
“Excuse me?”
“I had sex with Samir,” I repeated calmly. �
��Once in May. The other time Friday night.”
Fleur gaped at me. “I thought you didn’t like Samir,” she finally sputtered.
“Sometimes I don’t. Sometimes...” My heart clenched. “Sometimes I do.” The truth of it pushed me on. “Sometimes I think I more than like him. I don’t know. It’s complicated. It’s really complicated. And stupid. I’ve been keeping this a secret for months now and I just can’t keep lying to you or pretending it didn’t happen. It happened. I need it to not happen again.”
“Why?”
“Because I think I’m falling for him and he has a girlfriend and I don’t know what he wants or feels. Sometimes I think I catch a glimpse, but he’s impossible to read. And I’m so scared he’s going to break my heart.”
Fleur turned on Mya. “Why aren’t you as shocked about this as I am?”
“I knew,” Mya admitted. “She told me a few days ago.”
Fleur whirled on me, hurt flashing in her eyes. I knew she was thinking of all the secrets between us—secrets she’d trusted me with—and now the one I wasn’t a good enough friend to trust her with.
“So you told Mya and not me.”
This was exactly what I’d feared. “It wasn’t like that.” Although it was exactly like that. “I wanted to tell you, but I know how close you and Samir are.” It hurt to say his name. Especially now that I knew he’d gone from sleeping with me to visiting his girlfriend. “I didn’t want you to get upset. I didn’t want you to be mad at me.”
“Really? Or did you just not want to admit that the whole time you were judging me about the Costa situation last year, you were doing the same thing?”
I deserved that.
“You said you had sex with Samir in May. But before that—that wasn’t the first time you kissed, was it?”
“No.”
“This wasn’t just one drunken night, was it?”
I shook my head, hating myself.
“How long have you guys been fooling around?”
“Since first semester last year. Since the beginning.”
“So the whole time I was helping you with Hugh, the whole time we were becoming friends, you were lying to me about your relationship with my cousin. And god, he’s just as bad. He never mentioned anything either.”
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