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I leaned back against the wall again, and closed my eyes, trying hard not to listen to Jesse’s conversation. It was virtually impossible to do with him sitting close to me. My curiosity got the best of me when I heard him say, “I’ve got just over a week left … Yes … I’d really prefer not to … I understand, but I don’t think I’m ready yet … Sure … Sure, I’ll try. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
He hung up the phone with a sigh, and turned to look at me. “He wants me to go home. Immediately.”
I really thought the day couldn’t get any worse, but that bombshell really sealed it.
“But … you can’t. We only just-”
The words stuck in my throat, and I threw my head back, willing myself not to cry again. It was an impossible task with a headache that threatened to shatter my skull, and the prospect of losing Jesse much earlier than planned.
I hated Mischa. I hated her for throwing that party, and for drugging Jesse. I hated Leon for inadvertently being the catalyst for the chain of events, and most of all, I hated myself for going to Mischa’s when neither of us wanted to go.
“Izzy. It’ll be okay. I might not even be able to get a flight out of here any earlier than the one I have.”
That glimmer of hope was all I had, and I clung to it as I fixed my eyes on him.
“I suppose I better start praying.”
Chapter Nineteen – It Would Take The Zombie Apocalypse
Jesse
When Richard called and told me I needed to go home, I wanted to tell him to go to hell. I had the greatest of respect for him as a manager, but off-season, I thought my decisions were my own. However, he wanted me back in L.A as soon as possible. What sucked the most was … I knew he was right. I had to go back. I needed to get some answers about my knee, and I couldn’t get those in London. Richard wasn’t prepared to risk my career by letting me stay in the U.K a minute longer than I had to. I didn’t want to risk it either.
But I didn’t want to say goodbye to Isabelle. Sure, I knew our time was running out, but we were supposed to have one more week.
Leaving early threw everything into chaos. After arranging new flights, I still had to talk to the police again, and Isabelle had to talk to them too. Both Izzy and Georgia missed their last day of college because, after Georgia’s confession, neither of them were up to it. It was twice as bad for Georgia, since Elliott dumped her after she told him she’d slept with Leon.
A late Tuesday evening visit from the police informed us that Mischa had – under pressure from her parents – admitted the truth about what happened at the party. The police decided that, as she had no prior offences to her name and hadn’t intended to cause any serious harm to anyone, she would be let off with a caution, provided she wrote a letter of apology to me for her actions. It didn’t seem like enough punishment for everything I stood to lose, but having it all out in the open was one less weight for me to carry.
Wednesday morning Richard called. He worked tirelessly to make sure the newspaper story about me being drunk and beating up Leon was retracted with a full apology. The threat of a lawsuit quickly shifted them in to action, but they wanted to talk to me to get the truth behind the story. I didn’t want anything to do with it, so in order to keep them quiet, I confirmed that my drink had been spiked and said nothing more.
It wasn’t until Thursday that everything finally started to settle down, only leaving me one full day to pack, and fit in as much time with Isabelle as possible. The most we’d managed so far were a couple of hours in her room.
On Thursday afternoon, Isabelle helped me to cram everything back in my suitcase. I couldn’t do it very easily on my own on crutches, and as much as she wanted to deny I was leaving, she didn’t want to see me struggle.
“I know the last few days have been … manic,” she said, handing me a shirt she’d just folded, “but I think we should do something special tomorrow night.”
“Sounds good,” I told her. “But I thought you weren’t allowed out.”
Isabelle and Georgia argued with their parents about being grounded. They figured at seventeen years old they were well past that kind of punishment. Turned out, Janet and Andrew disagreed. The only time they’d allowed either of them out of the house was when they helped with food shopping, and when they were asked to mail some Christmas cards.
“I talked to Mum,” she said. “I appealed to her inner romantic, and she said she’s fine with us going out tomorrow night for dinner with Hunter and Willow.”
“What about Georgia?”
Isabelle shook her head. “That’s a no go. But when I asked Georgia, she said she didn’t want to come. It probably wouldn’t be much fun for her anyway without Elliott.”
“They’re really through, huh?”
“Yeah. He was never going to forgive her for sleeping with someone else, but Leon? That was a real slap in the face.”
As angry as I was with Georgia initially, I felt bad for her. She did the right thing in the end, but it had left her without a boyfriend and a best friend. If you could call Mischa a best friend.
“You think I could persuade your mom to let her come with us?” I asked. “We’ve all been doing stuff together the whole time we’ve been here. It doesn’t seem fair to leave her out.”
Isabelle smiled sadly. “You could try. But as much as Mum loves you, she’s still really angry with Georgia. I thought she would have calmed down a bit by now.”
“She has calmed down
