Page 5 of Don't Be in Love

“Adelaide danced with the hottest man I’d ever laid my eyes on,” Mia announced in glee.

“That hot?”Sabrina gasped in amusement. Her eyes were wide, genuinely curious.

“That hot!”

“Well, I want to hear every single detai—oh my gosh!” Sabrina began screaming in front of the coffee machine, clutching her phone, jumping up and down.

“What!”Mia and I shouted in unison, not knowing whether to be fearful or excited.

“Look!”She ran to the kitchen table, shoving her phone in our faces. “Dorian Blackwood is back in London!He was spotted in London last night at a jazz club! He must be returning to Townsen this semester!” she screamed, jumping with excitement so violently that her long blond bob fell out of its elastic.

My heart plummeted. All my pumping blood evacuated the premises and fled to my face. It stole the air right out of my lungs and wrapped it around my throat in suffocation.

The photo. That photo—of Dorian Blackwood—the man Sabrina hadn’t stopped talking about since the day I met her.

I turned to Mia for confirmation, and I found the same look of horror in her dropped jaw.

That was a photo of Rye on her phone.

“That’sDorian Blackwood?” Mia looked up in question. I sat still, processing this nightmare.Rye is Dorian Blackwood. I slept with Dorian Blackwood. As in the Dorian Blackwood they call the UK Bachelor. As in the man my newest best friend is in love with.

“What’s wrong?” Sabrina’s excitement diminished, looking

between me and Mia.

“Oh—oh! Nothing, nothing! I’m just stunned, he’s cuter than I imagined,” Mia spoke quickly, smiling up at her.

“I know!I can’t believe we’ll be attending university with him now! He’s been abroad for the past year so it’s as if he wasn’t even a student. Maybe I’ll get the chance to introduce myself.” Her shoulders were high, and her smile reached the furthest depths of her cheeks. The way she squeezed her coffee mug and continued to talk in a high-pitched tone was enough to prove her feelings for Rye—Dorian.I had yet to see her smile this big before.

Oh my god. She couldn’t know what happened last night. She could never know. She would beheartbroken. I already knew how she thought of herself; the way she rejected compliments and used self-deprecating humor. If she was gathering the confidence to talk to him, then I needed to be her support system, not her reason to give up.

The last thing she needed was to find out that her best friend slept with the guy she was in love with.

Sabrinalovedhim, and I couldn’t be the one to ruin that.

I … I could simply avoid him at school. There was a minimal chance I’d ever see him! And there was an extremely high chancehe had enough alcohol in his system last night to not even remember me.

I wouldn’t ruin this for her. I wouldn’t let him jeopardize this friendship.

It was only one night anyways.

4

Don’t Make Deals with Rich Men — Adelaide

Approaching the university on Monday morning was mesmerizing. Towering above us was a castle of limestone wrapped in climbing ivy and vines, with archaic archways and roofs that met in triangular peaks reaching into the sky.

Townsen University sat on the edge of London, with the front courtyard of the school immersed in the city, and the back surrounded by acres of green grass, gardens, and courtyards.

Students in blazers, trousers, and tweed skirts waltzed up the front entrance of the school; a wide staircase that ascended towards a set of doors fit for a horse-drawn carriage.

Since this was Sabrina’s second year at Townsen, she helped us navigate the rotating schedules and various entrances. She wore a dreaded look as she broke it down.

The poor thing was a biology major who hated Biology. It was the compromise she and her dads made when they let her transfer to Townsen last year; they’d pay the tuition and let her minor in interior design if she studied biology.

“The left and right hallways will bring you to professors’ and administrators’ offices, which also lead to the courtyards and gardens at the back of the building,” she explained slowly. “Now let me see your schedules so we can get to class on time.”

Even after she rifled through everything in great detail, twice, I was still confused. But she ushered us off to our classes anyway, dropping me at a large doorway that was supposedly my Social Media Marketing class.