I See London 1 (33 page)

“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.”

This was a different side of Fleur, one I’d never seen before.

“About a month in, I woke up one morning. There was blood everywhere. I miscarried.” I moved forward, sitting next to her on the bed, wrapping my arms around her.

“I’m so sorry.”

Her voice was so soft, weak. “I think I just wanted to hold onto Costa for as long as possible.” A tear fell down her cheek. “I didn’t just lose him. I lost our baby.”

“I had no idea. I’m so sorry for everything I ever said—”

She waved me off. “There’s no way you could have known. I know I’ve been crazy lately.”

“I think that’s understandable.” I released her and walked to the edge of Fleur’s hospital room, stopping in front of the large window. Below us the streets of Chelsea were crowded, filled with people on their way home from work. It was still light out, if you could call the gray mist covering the city light.

It fit my mood perfectly. I turned away from the window.

“Are you angry with me? I’m sorry you had to deal with everything..”

“No.” My tone was emphatic. “I was just scared. Really, really scared. You’re my closest friend here. You and Mya. I just couldn’t imagine—”

“I know.” Fleur swallowed tightly. “I didn’t do it on purpose, you know. I wasn’t trying to do anything. I just wanted to forget for a while. I just wanted a break.”

“I know.” I leaned over, sitting back on the edge of her bed. I reached out, squeezing her hand in mine. I echoed the words Michael had told me. “You’re going to be okay, Fleur. I promise you, somehow you’ll be okay.”

“I’m starting to think so.” She ran her free hand through her hair. “My parents are sending me to a spa retreat in St. Tropez for the summer. They think that will help out a bit.”

“There are worse places you can end up.”

“True. I’m hoping for hot masseurs.” Her voice cracked. “Are we still friends? Is everything okay with us? I know how you feel about drugs…”

I squeezed her hand. “You don’t even have to ask that. Of course we’re still friends.”

“Then will you be my roommate next year? I was thinking maybe you, me and Mya could get a triple.”

We had discussed it all semester, but it wasn’t something we had decided on. “Yeah. Sounds good to me.”

Fleur smiled weakly. “Next year is going to be our year. I can feel it.”

“I sure hope so.” I leaned over the bed and gave her a hug. “Take care, Fleur. Have a good summer. If you need to talk about things, let me know.”

“You, too.”

* * *

“Hey, Maggie.”

I stood in the hall, waiting for the elevator. I had left Fleur in her room when the nurses came in to give her the next round of meds. George walked toward me, a bouquet of pale yellow roses in hand. “What are you doing here?”

A faint flush crossed his cheeks. He pointed toward the flowers. “These are from Residence Life. For Fleur. I’m just the messenger.”

I studied him, my gaze shifting from the flowers to the embarrassed expression on George’s face.

“Do you think she can see people?” He shifted his weight uncomfortably. “I don’t want to bother her or anything. I can come back another time. Or just give these to you to give to Fleur.” He thrust the flowers out at me.

I stared at the yellow roses. They were elegant and lovely. They were so Fleur. I cocked my head to the side, my curiosity piqued. “Who picked out the roses?”

George hesitated for just a beat too long. “Well, I did. I just guessed what I thought she might like best.”

“I think they’re perfect. Very Fleur.”

And then it all clicked into place. George was totally into Fleur.

George looked toward the empty doorway. “I guess I should go in then.”

He looked terrified. I offered up a silent prayer to the heavens.
Be gentle with him, Fleur.
I leaned over and pressed a swift kiss to his cheek. “You’re a good guy.”

“I didn’t do anything,” he protested. “They’re just flowers.”

“It’s more than the flowers.”

George’s gaze focused to a point off to my right. My gaze shifted.

Samir walked down the hall toward us. I heard George say goodbye and wish me a good summer before he headed in to see Fleur. His words barely registered with me. I couldn’t stop looking at Samir. He wore the same jacket he had put over my shoulders the night before. He stopped a few feet away from me, his gaze on mine.

“Should I be jealous?”

“What?”

Samir nodded toward the doorway. “You and George.” His tone was teasing. But his eyes seemed to contradict his voice.

I rolled my eyes, struggling to keep things light, easy. “He’s a friend.”

“Maybe I like being the only friend you kiss,” Samir teased.

My face flushed in response. I didn’t bother responding to
that.

Samir gestured toward Fleur’s room. “How is the patient doing?”

“She seems better.” I hesitated. “Maybe wait for a bit before going in there.”

Samir paused, his eyebrow raised as it clicked for him. “George? Residence Life George? Really?”

I grinned at the surprise in his voice. “You never know. Stranger things have happened.”

“True.” He shook his head. “Still. Sorry but I just can’t see my cousin going for George.”

“George is nice.”

“George is boring,” Samir countered playfully.

“Maybe Fleur needs boring right now. Maybe we all need boring right now.” Part of me wanted to tell him about the baby. He loved Fleur and she needed all the friends she could get right now. But it wasn’t my secret to tell.

Samir studied me quietly before speaking. “You holding up okay? Did Michael stop by?”

I nodded, running a hand through my hair. “Yeah. Thanks for that, by the way. He helped. I’m fine, Just tired. I’ve been packing all day. I didn’t sleep much last night.”

“When is your flight?”

“Tomorrow morning at ten.”

“I leave tomorrow, too.”

“Going back to Beirut or Paris?”

“Beirut. I’m going to see my girlfriend.”

My heart sank. I tried to pretend his answer didn’t affect me.

“What about you? You still going out with that British guy? Are you spending your last night in London with him?”

My heart pounded. “No.”

“No, you’re not going out with him, or no, you’re not spending your last night with him?”

A pause filled the hallway. “Both.” I couldn’t look up to gauge his reaction. I stared down at my feet instead.

“Want to talk about it?”

My heart thudded. “Nope.”

I dragged my gaze away from my feet to look at him. At the same time, Samir turned away. He jerked his head toward Fleur’s room again.

“Did you get to see her for long?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Yeah, for a bit. She says she’s fine. Physically the doctor seems to think she’s doing well enough to go home soon. Her parents are flying her back to France tomorrow.”

“Emotionally?”

“Not so good.” I hesitated. “It wasn’t intentional—”

“I know.”

My eyes narrowed, my tone sharpening. “I want to kill him. She needed him and apparently he never gave a shit about any of it.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. I don’t think Costa is going to be bothering Fleur anymore.”

“What did you do?”

“Let’s just say I taught him a lesson.”

“Did you fight him?”

Samir’s lips pulled back into a fierce grin.

“Are you hurt?” I couldn’t keep the concern out of my voice. My hand reached out of its own volition, searching his face for any sign of bruising. I touched his chest, my fingers brushing against the fabric of his jacket.