Page 26 of With You

“You never have to,” he says quietly, turning his head to look out the window. He leans his elbow against the door, resting his closed fist under his sharp jaw.

“I do,” I measure my next words carefully, calculating what I can say that won’t seem like I’m pitying him or apologising just because he’s done something nice for me now. “And I’m sorry if you felt left out tonight. That wasn’t my intention.”

“That’s not what I was annoyed about,” he tells me.

A beat passes as I wait for him to explain more but he doesn’t. I don’t want any unresolved tension between us before we have to start practicing for the showcase. I twist my fingers together in my lap, his short responses giving nothing away as I try, for once, to have an actual conversation with him.

“I really do appreciate that you’re helping me with the showcase.”

That you’re helping me with anything at all after the way I’ve treated you, I want to say.

River only nods, not giving me anything else in response. It’s like I’m talking to a brick wall, and that’s not how I wanted this conversation to go. The rest of the journey back home passes in silence, and River doesn’t look at me for one second of it.

Chapter 11

River

It took everything in me not to do something worse to the absolute fool who spilled his drink over Amelie. It would have been so easy to send her back to our friends and deal with him myself, but I didn’t want to leave her alone.

As soon as we got outside, I texted Damien to let him know what had happened, giving him the exact description of the guy. He wouldn’t have been hard to find anyway; he was the only pathetic drunk in that club. During our drive back to the university, my phone rumbled in my pocket with an update that I only checked once I’d walked Amelie back to her room. I didn’t ask for details, but between Damien, Grayson, and Layth, I doubt it was something the guy would ever forget.

Amelie was silent once we got back home, a stark contrast to how much she’d been trying to talk to me in the car. I probably should have responded more, but I couldn’t think straight with so many different emotions swirling through my already tipsy head. Anger at the way a complete stranger felt entitled to touch her, pride that she handled him herself and didn’t need mine or anyone else’s assistance, and at the end, something else I don’t want to put a name to at seeing my jacket around her shoulders.

Since returning to my room, I haven’t been able to sleep. It was rude of me not to talk to her, and I guess I owe her an apology. We’d made some kind of progress before the audition, but I’m worried I completely erased that with my actions, or lack thereof.

I tried to stay in a good mood for the night, but a single phone call from my father ruined any chance of that. The date for the showcase hasn’t been set yet, and even though I told him that I had to keep April free, he’s already planned some meetings I have to attend with him. Once I graduate, I know I’ll have to work with him, but for now I just want to pretend otherwise.

Admittedly, I had no interest in joining the showcase, but once Amelie came to me, it seemed like a fun idea, something to look forward to and distract me from my inevitable future. And maybe a childish part of me did want to be celebrated too. I worked just as hard as Amelie to secure our spot, but maybe our friends think the same as Amelie, that it’s all easier for me for whatever reason.

I stare up at the ceiling, my head bursting with all the thoughts running through it. We’ve been back at university for barely a month, and I’ve already had so many sleepless nights because of Amelie. What’s one more?

Much like everyone else, weekends are usually my favourite part of the week. No classes, combined with the freedom and ability to do whatever I want, usually means I’ll spend most weekends off campus, sometimes venturing to different cities within France or its neighbouring countries.

But none of my friends are here this weekend, and I don’t feel like going out alone, so I’m stuck with being bored at university instead. Damien and Evie had to meet with their parents to detail their plans for the year, as he’s meant to formally propose to her. Though they’ve been betrothed since birth, and Evie already wears a small silver band on her fourth finger, they've never announced their engagement. To keep up appearances, they need some kind of public display. I feel sorry for both of them, but it’s something that none of us can change.

Zena and Layth are out of the country, too, attending some ball where Zena is a guest of honour. I don’t know how she balances her royal lifestyle while still maintaining her good grades, but it’s commendable. Layth goes wherever she does, his entire life revolving around her schedule, and somehow he manages to keep on top of his studies, too. It must be exhausting to live so much for someone else, but I’ve never heard him complain.

Grayson said he was going to be out all weekend for a date with a model he met during the summer. That explains why he’s been inseparable from his phone lately, always tapping away even when we’re talking. When he told me about his plans, I knew he wanted me to ask for details, but I couldn’t care less about his dating life when mine is nonexistent.

It’s not that I’m completely uninterested in dating. I tried a bit in high school, trying to fit in with classmates who always seemed to be in relationships. But I never felt anything. For every secret meeting in dark corridors with girls who fawned over me, there were just as many hidden rendezvous with boys I shared classes with.

No matter how many times I attempted to feel anything, I never had the butterflies swarming in my stomach or my heart racing out of my chest, like everyone said would happen.

When I got to university, I decided to not even bother. It’s not as if I’m lonely—I have a good group of friends around me, and I don’t lack love in my life from them. Well, apart from one person whom I still can’t decide if she hates me for real or not. She’s also the only other person in our group staying behind this weekend.

Amelie spends most of her free time in the studio, and weekends are no exception. Her dedication is admirable, of course, but I can’t help wondering whether finding some balance would make her less intense about the whole thing. Even when I loved ballet, I never spent this much time on it, filling my spare hours with other hobbies like chess and reading.

Once I’ve dragged myself out of bed, my head pounding from lack of sleep, I spend the day in the library catching up on work. Because I missed classes to practice with Amelie, I’m behind on my notes. Since my friends abandoned me this weekend, it only makes sense to use this time wisely so I don’t have to worry about it when they’re all back.

The library is grandiose—tall ornate ceilings, walls lined with shelves of books, dozens of tables dotted between bookcases around the floor. Pretty much every book we’ll ever need for our studies can be found here, with enough copies that no one ever has to worry about not finding one. The General Director houses his private collection here as well, a small room toward the back that’s closed off for any students to access.

I find a table hidden in the back, away from anyone who might catch me on this rare occasion I’m alone and try to approach me. It’s easier to avoid when I’m with my friends, but networking is something we’ve all been brought up to value immensely. As much as I understand its importance, and how it can help in the future to know as many people as possible, it’s not something I’m interested in. I already have my friends, and there’s no room in my life for anyone who wants to weasel their way into our group.

Sunlight leaks in through the windows, hitting my desk and perfectly illuminating my notebook as I flick to an empty page. I go through the textbook, comparing it with the recordings of the classes I missed. It’s tedious work, studying company hierarchies and theories, all things I’m already aware of because of my father, but it’s necessary. Although I’m guaranteed a position at his company, I still need to know enough to offset the nepotism reputation that will cling to me from my very first day.

When I get bored studying the class materials, I brush up on my French. It’s the best I can do to learn as much as possible while I’m living here, and maybe it’ll help me understand the snide remarks I get from a certain someone.

Hours pass, and when I’ve finally finished the last class, I pack my things away. Luckily, no one disturbed me, and I hope I can make it back through the common room and dorms the same way. I pull my phone out of my pocket as I leave the library, catching up on what I missed.