Page 12 of Don't Be in Love

“Me too—well, I’m in my final year too,” he rushed to clarify. “Not from Boston, clearly.” He blushed. I suppressed a laugh. I didn’t need to make his shade of crimson any worse.

He cleared his throat. “So why here?”

“Study abroad opportunity. I always wanted to live in London though.” The romanticization of movies set here may have contributed heavily. “Tea, scones, rolling countryside hills, a reason to carry an umbrella every day.” And there was nothing left for me back in Boston. “Townsen also has one of the best marketing programs in the world.”

“So you gave up burgers and American holidays for stale scones and rain?” He was baffled.

I shrugged. “I don’t care much for the holidays.”

“Nonsense,” he argued.

“Just days on a calendar,” I pointed out.

“So, you’re an American who hates holidays, likes the rain, is willing to travel for a scone, and … majors in marketing,”he hummed as we entered a building with a plaque labeled ARCHER above, walnut walls welcoming us.

“Public relations,” I clarified.

“Anywhere in London you’re hoping to intern?”

“I’m not sure yet,” I lied.

“I would ask more but we’re here,” he confessed, stopping in front of a large oak door. “Same hallway next Thursday?”

It wasn’t as if I could say no. “Next Thursday it is.”

7

Don’t Stare At Him for Too Long — Adelaide

Walking into class, James and I diverged. I took the stairs to where Mia sat at the back of the auditorium-style classroom picking at a thread in her sweater. The rows of desks hugged the curve of the wall, holding about eighty students. Or at least it felt like eighty students because they all had their eyes on me as James and I snuck in at the last minute.

“Hello, hello,” I whispered as the professor stood from her desk. I shrugged my bag off my shoulder and took a seat.

“Don’t youhello, hellome, who was that?” Mia whispered in a volume loud enough that I hopped in my seat.

I smacked my hand over her mouth.Who knows what else she was going to say if I didn’t.

“First off, you’re not allowed to whisper anymore because that was not whispering. Second, that was James,” I explained, removing my hand from her face, and wiping her lip gloss off my palm.

I twisted forward to write down the lecture topics—

“Why are you smiling like that?” I grumbled.

There was a mischievous grin on her face. She looked like an impersonator for the cat fromAlice in Wonderland. “You know his name …”

I continued writing down the bullet points displayed on the projector, trying to get them on paper quicker than the professor could read them off.

“And what do we know about James?” she asked.

“He’s a friend of Dorian’s and that’s all we need to know.”

Her mouth fell open. She took up the entirety of my left peripheral with her gaping mouth. It was like there was a galaxy in there. Unfiltered words just swimming around. “You’re telling me that we’re going to pretend that man doesn’t exist?” She peered down at him.

Even with a packed lecture hall, I had no problem spotting James’s head in the front row. But I was surprised to find him glancing back in my direction. He brought his hand up … and waved. A delicate, shy smile inched its way into his cheeks. I casually waved back before he faced the projector again.

Mia’s galaxy widened.

I pressed the pen back down. “Dorian can’t be trusted, so neither can his friend,” I explained.