‘Sebastian,’ she muttered, the explanation sounding embarrassingly flimsy, especially in light of the day’s events.
Theo’s eyes widened, a flicker of recognition passing over his face. ‘Freshers’ Week,’ he said slowly. ‘I remember him making a beeline for me. I’d always had trouble making friends at school and I was extremely grateful; I thought I’d made a friend. We were standing together and I spotted you across the courtyard. We caught each other’s eye…’
Pippa remembered that moment all too well. She’d instantly thought he was attractive and intriguing.
‘I thought you were… well…’ Theo continued. ‘You stood out. The clock-print scarf, dungarees, boots, that enormous cardigan… and then you smiled. And when I heard you laugh, I thought… right, that’s someone I want to know.’
Pippa’s eyebrows shot up. Her? Really?
Theo gave a rueful laugh. ‘But before I even had the chance, Sebastian leaned in and told me you were way out of my league. Then, just to make sure the message landed, he added that you’d already made it known you were interested in him, and I wasn’t going to compete with Sebastian.’
This was news to Pippa and not how she remembered it at all. ‘You actually liked me?’
‘Of course I did. Who wouldn’t?’
It didn’t add up. The pieces didn’t fit.
‘I had my walls up around you because you said I didn’t belong in Cambridge.’ Her voice was quieter now, almost testing him, as if she needed to be absolutely sure.
Theo shook his head, steady, unwavering. ‘I didn’t say that.’
Something in his tone– the certainty, the simplicity of it– cut straight through her. She believed him, and with that belief came a thud of realisation that Sebastian had played her just to keep her and Theo from becoming anything more than strangers who passed each other in lecture halls. In fact, he’d made them rivals.
Her heart sank as the truth became clear. All those stolen glances across the library, the awkward smiles in hallways, the moments she’d told herself Theo was aloof, disinterested… arrogant, even. She’d been wrong all along? It hadn’t been indifference, but a story spun by Sebastian that kept them both at arm’s length?
The thought pressed down on her, heavy with all the possibilities they’d missed. The conversations never had, the coffees never shared, the chance that something real might have sparked between them before Sebastian got in the way.
‘I never really knew what you saw in Sebastian,’he admitted. ‘I know it’s only my opinion, but I couldn’t understand it. He was… well, mean. Always looking out for his own ego. I could never quite figure out what the attraction was.’
Pippa’s reply came instantly, without a flicker of hesitation. ‘I have never been in a relationship with Sebastian. I don’t know why he would have told you that, and I agree that the more I got to know him, the more I realised he was mean-spirited and not someone I wanted to call a friend.’
As the words left her, she felt a twinge of mortification, remembering their one-night stand. It was nothing but an alcohol-fuelled mistake that came from being on a high of starting university and his giving her attention when she felt low. But now she was beginning to realise, with a sinking sort of clarity, that he’d purposely kept her and Theo apart, and now she wanted to know why. Why had Sebastian spun that story? She wished she had questioned it at the time instead of believing him.
‘You’ve never been in a relationship with Sebastian?’
‘No.’ The answer rolled off her tongue too easily.
‘Was what he told you the only reason you disliked me?’
‘I didn’t dislike you. Quite the opposite, really,’ she admitted.
He cocked an eyebrow. ‘Tell me more.’
‘I thought you were smart. Calm. Capable. Everything came so easily to you, or at least that’s how it looked to me. I was this flailing bundle of ambition and anxiety, trying to prove I belonged… which was mainly down to me thinking that you didn’t think I was good enough to be at Cambridge. Maybe it hit a nerve because deep down I thought the same.’
He reached and touched her arm. ‘You just being there should have been your answer to that.’
‘Maybe, but I always felt like I had to work twice as hard just to stay in the room.’ She shrugged, still not meeting his eyes. ‘You walked into lectures with your flask and your notebook, and you actually understood things. I was up half the night rereading paragraphs three times and still not sure what I was talking about the next morning.’
‘I didn’t know that,’ he said quietly.
‘Of course you didn’t,’ she said. ‘No one did. I didn’t exactly shout it from the rooftops. I just… I don’t know, I guess I let it turn into this weird competitiveness. I admired you, and deep down I wanted to be like you, and that scared me because it felt like you were something I wasn’t. Effortless. Brilliant. Already headed for success. I mean, look at you now. Successful in your professional and personal life.’
There was a fleeting flicker of something in Theo’s eyes.
‘So,’ she went on, more softly now. ‘Looks like if we’d had a conversation sooner, then things at university may have panned out a little differently.’
‘Just for the record, I did like you… from the first moment I saw you.’
