Falling for Hamlet (24 page)

Standing alone in the kitchen, I tried to gain control of my enraged mind long enough to decide whether to go home or not. I hated the singing show anyway, and I knew everyone was either going to spend the evening asking me how I was doing or pretending to ignore what had happened, neither of which seemed like fun for anyone. I put the soda down and grabbed my keys, which were, fortunately, on a table right next to the front door.

“Where are you going?” Sebastian called across the sitting room.

Caught. I didn’t know how I expected to sneak out or why I was too chicken to even say good-bye. Wedged in the doorway, I answered, “Home. Thanks, Justine, I’ll, uh… yeah.” I sighed and walked out, letting the door slam behind me.
I could kill Hamlet
, I thought as I stormed toward the exit of her building. “Crap, crap, crap,” I mumbled, marching to the beat of each expletive.

Halfway down the hall I heard someone coming out of Justine’s, following me, I knew. When I looked over my shoulder, I wasn’t surprised to see Sebastian. “Go back in,” I called to him, but he picked up his pace to a near jog instead. He was going to catch up with me and would want to talk, so I figured I would just wait where I was, rather than chance having the discussion out on the street with the prying eyes and ears of strangers around us.

In three long paces, he caught up with me. “You don’t have to run away. No one’s judging you.”

“They’re all judging me. And him. Everyone does.” I scowled.

He opened his mouth as if to protest, then clapped it shut when he realized I was right. Unable to contain himself, he proceeded. “Why do you put up with that guy?”

I rolled my eyes, not wanting to explain myself. There was no more putting up with Hamlet, as far as I could tell, but Sebastian didn’t need to know that. The fact that our latest breakup had stayed out of the papers was a miracle, and I wanted to keep it to myself as long as possible. “There’s a lot to us that you don’t know about.”

“Because you never tell us anything about your relationship.”

“Can’t imagine why,” I snapped.

“You think we would sell your stories?”

I shrugged. Hamlet and I had each had trusted “friends” find the temptation of money or fifteen minutes of fame too hard to resist. “I just… It’s my business.”

Little wrinkles of concern sprang up around Sebastian’s eyes as he stared at me, thinking. “Here’s what I know: He drinks.”

“So do I.”

“He cheats.”

“So have I.”

Sebastian flinched. Then I could see his mind working, wondering how true that was, with whom, and if that meant he had a chance with me.

“Look, Sebastian, what Hamlet and I have works. Most of the time.”

He slapped at the wall next to me. “Does Hamlet even like art?”

“He tolerates it to please me.” When Sebastian made a face, I recanted. “He likes it. Just not the way we do.”

Sebastian shook his head. “He has more of it than anyone. What a waste. Seems he doesn’t appreciate anything he has as much as he should. As much as others would.”

“Sebastian, don’t,” I warned.

“Sorry,” he said. He looked down, but then his eyes flicked back to mine. As he did, I noticed the gold flecks in his brown eyes. Then my gaze wandered to his full eyebrows and strong nose, his square jaw covered in stubble. He wore a braided leather necklace tight around his neck and I had a sudden urge to kiss it and put my tongue in the space between the rope and his throat.

Shoot,
I thought.
Hamlet. Keep your mind on Hamlet. You’ve got to fix what you messed up, not make it worse.
But then I remembered the girl in the boxing gloves and the little shorts. I stared at Sebastian’s bare arms, muscular from lacrosse, and then let my gaze be drawn up to his shoulders, and back to his throat. My facial expression must have changed because he asked me what was up.

“Go back in,” I instructed him.

“Why?”

“Because if you stay, I’m going to sleep with you for revenge.”

“Oh,” he said. After a pause, he laughed. “And I don’t want that?”

My only response was a shrug and a nervous, flirtatious smile. I made up my mind. Hamlet could go screw himself or boxer girl or whomever he pleased. If we were done, I wasn’t waiting around, especially when I had an attractive, attentive guy right in front of me who clearly wanted me.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked.

I nodded and leaned my head against the wall, waiting, hoping it would be a good kiss. And it was. My heart beat faster and I was greedy for more, but I scooted away. He looked concerned that I was changing my mind.

“I can’t risk being seen like this,” I reassured him, looking up and down the hallway.

“Wanna go to your place?”

“You a big fan of my father’s?” I laughed, but even the mention of my father saddened me.

Sebastian blushed and tried, “My apartment? My parents are out of town for the week.”

I nodded, and he took my hand, leading me out.

As we walked, I tried my damnedest to stop thinking about anything but Sebastian and how much I wanted him. But it didn’t work. By the time we got to his apartment, I was wary of going through with it.

He kissed me, and I pulled back. “I’m not sure,” I said.

Sebastian nodded. He tugged on his necklace and looked away.

My chest ached to see his disappointment, so I added, “It’s not you. It’s just… there’s a lot going on in my…” It sounded like a line, one Hamlet had used on me, which made it even worse. There was very little I could tell him about my life, and without any details he wouldn’t believe that it wasn’t personal.

The one thing that wasn’t technically a secret, I was reluctant to admit. But I had to say something. My cheeks burned as I tried to explain my hesitation and spare Sebastian his feelings. “I’ve actually never slept with anyone but Hamlet.”

“How is that possible?” he asked, his mouth hanging open.

If I wasn’t so embarrassed, I might have laughed at his expression.

When he regained his composure slightly, he added, “A girl like you?”

Staring at my sneakers, I asked, “What do you mean, a girl like me?”

“Nothing.”

“Do I seem slutty?” I asked, my cheeks stinging from the blood rushing to them. Thinking of the party photos and the secret video, I pulled my arms tight across myself again and wondered how quickly I could make it home before I embarrassed myself further.

“Not slutty,” he said, putting his hand on my arm.

I pulled away but let him finish.

He leaned back against his door and looked me over. “Just, like, sexy. And self-confident.”

“I don’t know what I am or how I ended up just with Hamlet.… It just never felt—” I reached into my pocket to check that my keys were there and said, “This was a mistake. I’m gonna go.” I was about to walk away, but then I looked into his eyes, his chocolaty, passion-filled, temporarily hangdog eyes, and my resolve melted away.

“Don’t. I meant it as a compliment. We don’t have to do anything, but don’t go. Not yet.” He kissed me gently on the forehead, and I let him pull me close. “Let’s just take this slowly and see what happens. No pressure.”

My body relaxed and sank into his. Sebastian didn’t live in the castle. He didn’t know what I’d done. He wasn’t acting crazy or violent or threatening to kill anyone or to expose me. He just wanted the girl he liked to like him back.

We kissed, and my arms gripped his muscular back. I had nearly lost myself in the moment when an alarming thought crossed my mind. I turned my head, and my eyes scanned the room, lingering in the corners and on the bookshelf.

“What are you looking for?” Sebastian asked, his arms still around my waist.

I looked down again, hoping he’d change the subject, but he didn’t say anything else. I didn’t want to lie anymore. “Cameras.”

Sebastian backed away. “You honestly think—What kind of person would—Did Hamlet—”

“No,” I answered quickly. Claudius’s leer, Gertrude’s scowl, and my father’s humiliation all filled my mind.

I considered walking out, but then Sebastian asked the perfect question. “What kind of people do you spend time with?”

I laughed. “You have no idea.”

And with that, the thought that had been forming in my mind solidified all at once. I was done. I didn’t want any part of Elsinore. I didn’t want to be a queen. I didn’t want to be in the public eye. Even if the Hamlet of the past—not the Hamlet with the gun, not the Hamlet who saw ghosts, not the Hamlet who attacked me in the limo, but the Hamlet I loved—showed up at that moment, I wouldn’t take him back. Because he came with all the trappings of royalty and was constantly in the public eye, and no matter how blasé he was about it, no matter how he might try to create a life for us that could be considered within the realm of normal, it wouldn’t be. Sebastian, or a guy like him, could be normal—God, even boring—without trying. Boring sounded amazing. Yet, from the way Sebastian kissed and talked, he could not be considered boring. And I wanted another kiss.

I trusted him. I don’t know how or why, after everything that had happened, but I did. For the first time in a long time, my trust wasn’t betrayed, and I didn’t have to pretend to be anything I was not.

Even if we’d just sat around talking, I think Sebastian would have been okay with it. But we did more than talk, and it was… nice. Hey, don’t underestimate the awesomeness of “nice,” and don’t think I’m giving details. I’m not one to do more than kiss and tell, so just know that it made me happy. No regrets. It was weird at first, being with someone other than Hamlet. But Sebastian was sweet and funny and so happy to have me with him. And
I
was happy to be there with
him
. Especially ’cause he wasn’t crazy or suspicious or on the edge. He was the un-Hamlet. It was my first move toward freedom. And if you gotta move on from a situation, I highly recommend a boy like Sebastian.

The next morning, we didn’t want to leave his place, but I had already missed too much class. We showered and dressed and headed for the door. I grabbed my bag and turned on my phone. Five voice messages and three texts were waiting for me. Seeing Hamlet’s name snapped me out of my bliss and I shut the phone, looking at Sebastian.

“I’m just… I’m not gonna check the rest now,” I started to say, trying to take the quake out of my voice. “I should call my dad, though. I’m sure at least one was from him.”

Sebastian nodded and walked across the room, flopping on his bed.

“Dad?” I began. I paused, waiting for him to stop yelling at me. “Dad, you know I wasn’t dead in a ditch.” I paused as he continued lecturing me. “I know I—” I paused again, and bored holes in the ceiling with my eyes. “But—” My guilt started to overwhelm me. I leaned against the door, avoiding Sebastian’s gaze. “Okay. I’ll be home before dinner. O… Okay. Bye, Dad. Bye.

“He’s pretty pissed,” I explained, trying to catch my breath. “We’re lucky the DDI didn’t come bursting in here looking for me,” I added, only half joking. I stretched my hand out to the wary young man in front of me, and it seemed to put him at ease.

At lunch we met up again and went across the street to grab some coffee. He reached for my hand as we walked, and when I pulled mine back, his face went pale. I said quietly, “Off campus, people have cameras, Sebastian. Not yet, okay?”

He nodded and breathed a little easier. “Maybe leaving campus wasn’t such a good idea,” he said.

I laughed. “It’s five minutes of not touching. You’ll live.” But while we were waiting for our drinks, I noticed his fingers twitching, like it was a real effort for him to keep his hands to himself. It was really kinda cute.

As soon as we were safe behind the school’s tall gates, he threw his arm around my shoulder. There was a part of me that was nervous about what people would say or think about my moving on so quickly, and there was a part of me that wanted to make the breakup definitive and mine. Plus he was hot and I liked him, so for those brief, wonderful moments, his arm around me was what I wanted most.

We headed to the coolest spot on campus, a courtyard with a giant bear sculpture, where the more artistic students would sit and read or play guitar or draw, even on cold days like this one. Dan, Lauren, Greg, and Keren were already there and scooted over, making space for us to sit. Their knowing smiles spoke for them, and they pretended to go on with their conversation, but they were watching our every move.

I stirred my coffee more than I needed to because every time I looked down, Sebastian would lean over and kiss the back of my neck. His expression was relief mixed with pure joy, like a child who gets precisely what he wants for Christmas but still can’t believe his luck. We sat close as he whispered stories in my ear as an excuse to sneak a gentle kiss every now and then.

“What the hell?” I heard over my shoulder, and my stomach clenched. Hamlet. I closed my eyes in a foolish attempt to turn back time. When I opened them, all I saw was the back of his head, and I went chasing after him without so much as an explanation to the boy who had thought he had won, or to our friends, who had looked on in horror. Even at a dead run I was unable to keep up.

“Hamlet!” I tried to shout, but I was out of breath.

People stopped to watch us and started pointing and pulling out camera phones. His driver was driving away by the time I reached the street.

“God, could you just leave us alone?” I screamed at the kids standing behind me.

Some snickered, some complied. Two security guards walked over to reprimand them for breaking school rules but didn’t take the phones, so I was screwed again.

I yanked up the hood of my sweater and scuttled off to ground zero. My crowd waited in silent expectation as I grabbed my bag.

“What did he want?” asked Lauren, her voice sharp.

I shrugged as I took out my phone. Still panting, I punched in the code. “You have five messages,” declared the gentle robotic voice.

Beep.
“Ophelia, Horatio made me leave town with him and I forgot my phone, so I didn’t get your message until just now. I guess I should have called either way, but I was pissed. It took me a few days to calm down, but I have, and I need to talk to you. Things are so messed up. I said some things in the car—I don’t—I don’t know what’s going on with me. Or us. I was ready to kill you for—But now… Call me.”