In Harmony (22 page)

“Natasha? It’s Karen. I’m in love with Connor Locke!”

A second of bar noise and whispered voices. She must be in Flicker, with the others.

“
Duh!”
chorused Natasha, Clarissa and Jasmine down the phone.

Chapter 16

“What do you mean, ‘
duh’?”
I asked. “You
knew?!”

I heard the phone being put down on the table as Natasha put me on speaker. “You
have
been spending a lot of time with him,” she said.

“And he is super-hot,” said Clarissa.

“And I caught the two of you in the storeroom,” said Jasmine. “Are you sure it’s love and not just…you know…the understandable desire to wrap your thighs around him?”

I thought back to the sidewalk. My heart was still hammering from it. “Nope. Definitely the real thing.”

All three of them
squeed
.

“What do I
do?”
I asked.

“Tell him, obviously.” It was Natasha’s voice, but I could hear them all making noises of agreement.

“I can’t. I don’t know if he feels the same. I don’t know if he feels
anything.
He might just feel sorry for me.”

“Okay,” said Jasmine. “What you need is a signed contract from him saying he promises not to reject you if and when you choose to tell him. Then you can tell him safely.”

I hesitated. “Really?”

“No, you idiot, not really!
I was making a point! There are no guarantees in this stuff. You just have to go for it.”

I bit my lip. “What if he says ‘No’ and we can’t work together after that?”

Jasmine was in full romance-guru mode. “You can’t put love on hold for your career!”

“I’m serious! If we don’t do the recital together, I don’t graduate.”

She went quiet for a second and when she spoke again, she’d sobered up. “Hmm.”

We all sat there in silence, them in the dark, noisy warmth of Flicker and me in the back seat of a cab, rushing through the streets. Everyone was thinking hard, but no one came up with anything. It was Clarissa who eventually dared to speak. “This is still huge. You’re in
love.”

“I’ve never been in love before.”

There was a shocked silence from the other end, which was when I realized I’d said it out loud.

“
Never?”
asked Jasmine reverently. “That’s so romantic!”

“He better not break your heart,” said Clarissa.

“I haven’t even told him yet! I
can’t
tell him!” I thought for a second. “I’m seeing him tomorrow. He’s coming to my apartment to rehearse.” Suddenly, the world seemed to be shifting under me. When we’d arranged it, it had been no big deal—just a chance to work on his essay with him. But now….

Now, I either had to risk everything and tell him how I felt…or sit there and pretend not to be in love with him.

***

Construction work meant the cab had to take a circuitous route to get back to my area, which gave me some thinking time. I’d ended the call (after the girls had drunk toasts to me down the phone) and was sitting in the back of the cab, stewing.

It was ridiculous—I couldn’t hide how I felt, just because of the recital.

It was ridiculous—I couldn’t risk my entire career, just because I was in love with him.

I went round and round as we drove through block after block and didn’t make any progress. What if it was just me? What if he saw me as just a friend?

“I’m sorry, Karen. I don’t feel that way about you. I mean, you’re not really my type, you know?”

I imagined crying in front of him. Or passing out. Or running from the room. I was pretty sure that however badly it went, he’d be able to work with me afterwards, but could I work with him?

And what if—by some slim chance—it went well? What if he
did
feel the same way, and we ended up…what, exactly? Going out? Boyfriend and girlfriend? I tried to imagine Connor with a steady girlfriend, and couldn’t. Imagining him with
me
just seemed ridiculous.

And if he
did
feel the same way about me…why hadn’t he said anything? Why hadn’t he asked me out?

For months, I’d held back the tide, denying how I felt about him…and now that I’d finally admitted it, I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

I stared out of the window without seeing until finally I saw something that made me jerk back, surprised. A street sign I recognized, despite having never been there in person before. Jasmine’s street.

“Wait. Turn in here, please,” I told the cabbie.

If I couldn’t solve my own problems, maybe I could help my friends.

***

I’d never been to Jasmine’s apartment—she’d always preferred to meet at mine, or at Flicker. As I got out of the cab, I could see why.

The neighborhood itself was bad—worse than Connor’s, by my estimate. And the building Jasmine rented in was by far the worst on the block, with enough graffiti, chips and cracks for the rest of the street put together. I was sure the rusting fire escape wasn’t up to code and two windows were boarded up.

Jasmine had said she wouldn’t accept any more money for rent, but I knew she was still tight. I also knew she was safely in Flicker with the others, where she couldn’t stop me helping her.

It was a total spur-of-the-moment thing. I figured if I talked to her landlord and offered to quietly pay him something towards the rent, I could give Jasmine some breathing room—and she wouldn’t be able to reject it because, by the time she found out about it, it would all be done.

I didn’t have much money on me, but the allowance my father sent each month would arrive soon. If I budgeted super-tightly, I could probably spare a hundred bucks or so—and that was better than nothing, right? I could arrange it with the landlord now and then PayPal him or something.

I checked the bell pushes. There was one with Jasmine’s surname, so I was in the right place. Jasmine had said that her landlord had taken the whole of the first floor, so I pushed that one.

The man who opened the door was balding, with greasy hair slicked back from his temples. The belly that pushed out his Nicks t-shirt suggested that his sweatpants were for comfort, not exercise. “Yeah?” he asked doubtfully.

“It’s about Jasmine—she rents from you?” I said, trying to make my voice as bright and bouncy as hers.

He frowned. “Mm-hmm?”

I shifted my weight from foot to foot. It was freezing, out on the doorstep. “She said that she’d been having some problems paying. I’m her friend.”

His expression changed. “You have her rent? She still owes me.”

“No, I don’t actually have any money….”

He gave me a
you’re wasting my time
look.

“But Jasmine said she was talking to you about working out an arrangement.”

He looked shocked. “She told you about that?”

“Yes. Maybe I could help with that? Like, each month?”

He blinked a couple of times and looked at me a little closer. Then he opened the door wide. “Come in,” he said.

Inside, it was warmer. But if anything the interior was even less well maintained, with water stains and cracked paintwork. A couple of the lights looked like they hadn’t worked in years.

“Let’s go into Jasmine’s apartment,” the landlord said, and led the way up the stairs.

As he unlocked the door, I started to get a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. He was the landlord and Jasmine was behind on her rent—he probably had a perfect right to be there. But it still felt wrong, wandering into her place when she wasn’t there. Or was it something else that was bothering me?

It was a small apartment—bigger than Connor’s, but still only three rooms: a lounge and kitchen combined, a bedroom beyond that and a door to what I assumed was the bathroom.

Something crunched underfoot. I had a pretty good idea what it was, and I didn’t want to lift my shoe to find out if I was right.

The landlord smiled at me…and then walked straight through to the bedroom. “You coming?” he asked. And pulled off his t-shirt.

I stood there gaping.

“What?” he asked, sounding genuinely puzzled. Then a sly smile crept across his face. “Oh. Is she coming too? Were you meaning, like, you and her at the same time?”

“Sorry!” I said, and bolted. I was so shocked that I didn’t have time to be scared, or to really process things, until I was two streets away and sitting panting in the back of a cab.

And then I called Jasmine, who was still sitting in Flicker, and told her we had to talk.

Chapter 17

“I can’t believe you went there without telling me,” said Jasmine. It was the next morning and, despite the cold, we were sitting on the swings in a kid’s playground down the street from Fenbrook. It was early enough that we were the only ones there, surrounded by yesterday’s snowmen.

“I thought I could help. I didn’t know that you—”

“I haven’t done it yet. We’d just talked about it. I was going to do it last month, but then you saved my ass with the $300.”

We sat in silence for a second, swinging slowly back and forth. “Whose idea was it?” I asked.

“Mine,” said Jasmine. “I thought…you know, I thought—” She took a deep breath, and I waited while she got her voice under control. “I thought that if I took the lead and set the terms, then I could control things. Better than having him pressuring me when all my stuff was already out on the street.”

I closed my eyes. “There must be another way.” I frowned. “Doesn’t your brother live in New York?” I vaguely remembered her mentioning it, one night in Flicker. Then my stomach lurched as the rest of the memory swept in—she’d been talking about avoiding him.

Jasmine shook her head. “No. That’s a whole world I don’t want any part of. He’s trouble. He’s done time, for God’s sake.”

“People change,” I said, thinking of Connor.

But Jasmine shook her head firmly. We sat there for a moment, legs kicking occasionally to swing us, trying to keep moving so that our feet didn’t freeze. Then Jasmine took a deep breath and said, “Now that you know about…the arrangement…I need your help with something else. But you need to promise me something.”

“Anything. What?”

She turned and stared at me. “You need to promise me you’ll still be my friend after I tell you.”

Cold fear clutched at my chest. “Jasmine, of course! What is it?”

She looked towards the horizon. “I’ve decided to start escorting.”

I sat there in dumb shock for a moment. “Jasmine,
no!”

“You said—”

“I’m not judging! I’m just saying—isn’t there another way?”

She shook her head. “I have to pay my rent, but between Fenbrook and auditions I don’t have time to work any more hours. Escorting is the only thing that’ll cover it, and it’ll cover it
well.
” She kept staring straight ahead. “I’ve really thought about it. I can work in the evenings, which is perfect because it leaves the daytime free for auditions and classes. I figure I’d be good at it—I mean, it’s just acting, right? Acting and sex, and I’m good at both.”

I bit my lip.

“I need to find an agency and go for an interview.” She finally looked over at me. “I really don’t want to do it on my own. Could you…come along with me? Moral support?”

I thought of her in a hotel room, crushed beneath some married, forty-something businessman and closed my eyes. No. No way. I couldn’t let her do it.

But…I couldn’t stop her, either. I could feel the fear rising up inside me. The fear of losing her as a friend, if I stopped her doing what she wanted to do. The fear of being wrong—what if she got thrown out on the street, and had to drop out of Fenbrook, and it was all my fault? Worst of all, the fear that I’d do the wrong thing, make the wrong call, because I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. I was a twenty-one year old virgin, for God’s sake. I’d barely lived—what chance did I have of talking someone through this huge decision?

So I did the only thing I could do. I folded.

“Of course,” I told her.

“And you won’t tell Nat, or Clarissa?”

I nodded.

She jumped up and hugged me. “You’re the best friend ever!” she told me.

Which was weird, because I felt like the worst.

***

I’d arranged to meet Connor that afternoon at my place, for no better reason than it had a desk we could work at side by side, and I knew he wouldn’t want to do it at Fenbrook with everyone watching his struggles. I made sure I was home a half hour early and spent thirty pointless minutes cleaning things that were already clean and tidying things that were already tidy. If I could cook, I would have baked cookies.