Читать книгу I See London - Chanel Cleeton - Страница 14

Little by little I began settling into life at the International School. I enjoyed classes with my professors, loved getting into debates with my classmates. Here students from all over the world mingled together, forming friendships transcending ethnic or cultural background. There was something incredible about listening to an Israeli and a Palestinian student discuss the current conflict. Wars might be raging throughout the world, but the International School was a neutral zone. It was an amazing thing to see. The school wasn’t Harvard, but it was special in its own right.

Most of all I fell in love with London. I spent my free time walking around the city, exploring new places daily. Sometimes I went with friends, but most of the time I went on my own. It was the kind of place where you could never get bored. It was rarely quiet.

“Are you staying in tonight?” Noora asked from across our dorm room. As usual Fleur had gone off somewhere.

“Yeah. Probably just doing some work. You?”

“I’m meeting some friends for a movie. Want to come?”

“I think I might pass this time. Thanks for the invite, though.”

Noora nodded, grabbing her purse. “See you later.”

My phone rang. Mya. “What’s up?”

“We’re going out.”

I stared down at the textbooks spread out all over my bed. I had a ton of reading this weekend. And I was really behind.

I pushed away the guilt. I could study another time.

* * *

I followed Mya down the steps, stopping dead in my tracks.

Samir stood on the street in front of the building, leaning against a sleek black sedan. Fleur stood next to him.

I groaned. “I changed my mind about tonight.”

“Nope. You’re coming.” Mya tugged on my hand.

I shot her a look. “You could have mentioned that two of my least favorite people were included in our little group.” I didn’t even bother lowering my voice. Samir was a flirty thorn in my side and Fleur’s thawing seemed to have bee a temporary moment, never to be repeated.

Samir grinned at my words. Fleur just looked pissed off.

“You wouldn’t have come if I told you the truth,” Mya answered, nonplussed. “Besides, you need a night out. You’ve been way too good lately.”

My eyes locked with Samir’s. He wore a pale blue collared shirt, sleeves rolled, and a pair of dark Diesel jeans. Flashes of the dreams I’d been having about him assailed me.

Samir turned to Fleur, a torrent of French escaping him. He didn’t seem angry, but there was intensity behind his words—and a definite chill in her reaction.

Were they talking about me?

Whatever he said to her, Fleur definitely didn’t look happy.

I already felt ridiculous enough, playing dress-up in one of Mya’s dresses, too tight on my curvy frame. Now I felt like an unwanted interloper. “You know, maybe this was a bad idea,” I called out, ready to turn around and go back in the building.

“You’re coming,” Mya snapped, shooting both Fleur and Samir a dark look.

Samir said something else in French. Fleur glared at me.

I really needed to learn another language.

Fleur turned her back to me, sliding into the backseat without another word.

“Come on.” Samir jerked his head toward the car.

I hesitated.

“Come on.” His lips curved into a grin. “Are you really going to let Fleur push you around like that?” He leaned in closer to me. “Trust me, your best play is to show no fear.”

He had a point.

I slid into the backseat next to Mya, glad to have her as a buffer between me and Fleur.

Samir shut the door with a grin. “Good girl.” I rolled my eyes.

Another guy got into the front seat. I instantly recognized him as Samir’s partner in crime from the first day on the stairs. Samir introduced him as Omar.

I leaned back into the leather seat, desperately wishing I were anywhere else. Fleur didn’t talk most of the car ride, staring out the car window instead. Samir and Omar spent most of the drive speaking in Arabic. We ended up at Babel again.

As we walked toward Babel, I felt a nervous flutter in my stomach. Was Samir thinking of the last time we were here together? Because as soon as I set foot in the club, I couldn’t get the memory out of my mind. At the same time, I couldn’t help but wonder if I would run into Hugh again. It felt a bit like returning to the scene of the crime.

“Sorry it’s a little tense tonight,” Mya whispered.

I laughed. That was a massive understatement. “Why are we even here?”

“Samir called me and practically begged me to come out.”

I gaped at her. “Are you joking?” Somehow I couldn’t see Samir begging anyone for anything.

“Fleur’s not having the greatest day.”

I rolled my eyes. “Let me guess, she maxed out her credit card? Or wait, her favorite manicurist was booked? Tragedy.” I’d been living with Fleur’s iciness for weeks now and I was sick of it.

“It’s her birthday.”

I paused. “What’s so bad about that?”

“Her mom was supposed to come to London so they could spend it together. But she bailed at the last minute to go to some spa in Switzerland.”

I couldn’t help the twinge of sympathy. There was nothing worse than being disappointed by your parents.

Mya shrugged. “Fleur was all set to spend her birthday by herself, but Samir found out. I think this was his attempt to throw her a little party.”

My gaze flew to Samir. A few girls stood next to him and Omar, one of them pressing a swift kiss to Samir’s cheek.

“And he told you it was okay to invite me?”

Mya shook her head. “It was his idea. He thought you would have fun.” She grinned. “He said something about you seeming tightly wound lately? An excess of pens in class or something.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at that one. He still gave me shit about the first day. At least now I was down to two.

“I don’t get why he invited me. She hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you. She just takes a bit to warm up to people. And I don’t think she has anyone else.”

“She should be nicer, then.”

“You’re right.” Mya hesitated. “But there’s more to Fleur than what you see. A lot more.”

My look was skeptical at best.

“I’m serious. I wasn’t popular in Switzerland. I was one of the only black girls and some of the girls were really snobby about me being from Nigeria. Fleur was one of the few that actually stood up for me. I’m not saying she’s sweet, but she’s not as bad as everyone makes her out to be. She has her good side. You just have to work to find it.”

Maybe it was just me, then.

The boys waved us over. The table had already filled up; four random girls sat crammed in around the guys.

Fleur fisted her hands on her hips. “Samir. Move your friends.”

Samir mumbled something that sounded unflattering but he moved the girls over, relocating one of the girls onto his lap. A waitress poured drinks for the table. By the time she finished, Samir and the girl were practically making out.

I looked away.

I didn’t know what to make of Samir. Mya’s story about Fleur’s birthday made him sound as if he was almost a decent guy. His man-whore side suggested otherwise. Sure he was young and single, but still. Why did there have to be so many girls?

Mya nudged me. “Having fun yet?”

I laughed. “Sorry, not so much.” There was a weird energy at the table tonight. Fleur was knocking back drinks, her expression hard. Samir hadn’t broken apart from his girl. Omar didn’t speak to anyone.

Fleur leaned over to Mya. “I can’t deal with this.” She jerked her head toward the girls. “I hate when he does this.” Her gaze traveled over Samir’s little harem. “They’re just here for the free drinks and the table. It makes us look bad to be seen with them. Let’s go dance.”

Mya groaned. “I’m not in the mood to dance tonight. Why don’t you find someone else?”

Samir broke apart from the girl. His gaze met mine across the table. Something lurched in my chest as I hurried to look away, afraid he would see the confusion and inexperience reflected in my eyes. If I didn’t get up from the table soon, I was going to have to leave. This was beyond awkward.

“I’ll dance with you,” I blurted out.

Mya stared at me.

Fleur looked surprised for a moment before she nodded. “Fine. Come on.” She grabbed my hand, pushing her way around the table. I followed behind her reluctantly. She stopped in front of a raised platform, on display for the whole club to see.

“Up there?”

She rolled her eyes. “Stop being such a baby. I don’t dance on the floor like everybody else.”

Of course she didn’t. I stared back at our table—Samir was still ensconced with the group of girls. What the hell. I climbed up to the platform.

“This is such a bad idea,” I muttered under my breath.

Ignoring me, Fleur began dancing to the music, moving her hips in a way I could only hope to emulate. My gaze roamed over the crowd. People were looking at us. Girls were staring at us enviously; a group of guys grinned, lifting their glasses in a silent toast. A rush of power ran through me. I moved closer to Fleur, moving my body to mimic her moves. Our hips swayed to the beat of the music, our bodies nearly flush with each other. We were putting on a show and judging by the whistles we were getting from the crowd, they liked it. A photographer came over and snapped our picture. Fleur threw her arm around me, pressing a kiss on my cheek.

The flash went off.

So this is what it was like. This is what it felt like to be wanted. To be one of the cool kids.

I fucking loved it.

I grinned at Fleur, too carried away by the moment to be pissed with her. She had a point—on top of the platform it was impossible not to feel as though you were on top of the world. She flipped her hair back, tossing me a smug little smile. She was definitely enjoying herself as much as I was. There was power here, power in being a girl, power I’d never realized before.

I was drunk on it now.

I locked eyes with Samir across the room. He sat nursing a drink, the girl finally dislodged from his lap. He wasn’t smiling. The force of his stare surprised me.

This time I didn’t look away. I met his gaze head-on, shaking my ass to the music. Fleur grabbed my hand, pulling me into a twirl—she was definitely a little drunk—and then I was facing Samir again. He hadn’t stopped staring.

I didn’t care.

I didn’t want to be the lame girl everyone walked all over—I wanted this feeling, this rush, to last forever. I jerked my gaze away from Samir, passing over the crowd until it rested on—

A very tall, hot guy in a black jacket. Hugh.