Page 44 of Enemies Abroad


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“Audrey, I meant to thank you earlier for hanging back at the school. Did you find anything to distract yourself with?”

My mind goes blank because of course I can’t tell him the truth of what I was doing.

“Uhh…”

Don’t say you cried!

For the love of GOD, think of something else!

I remember the art I looked at just as Lorenzo’s attention is suddenly diverted by something across the room. “Oh! They just put out the dessert. It’s that bread pudding all the kids snatched up the other day.”

He’s already pushing up and out of his chair. He’s forgotten I exist.

Gabriella shoots to her feet too. “Oh, let’s go. Quick, Ashley.”

She tugs her arm and just like that, the three of them vanish in a poof, leaving me alone at the table with Noah.

It’s dramatically quiet. It’s like someone dialed the volume of the room down to zero but Noah and I have been mic’d up. His fork scrapes against his plate. My glass of water clinks against the table. I swear if I tried, I could hear my stomach churning my food.

I’m so hyperaware of everything it’s like life’s been put in slow motion. What is taking them so long? Get your stupid pudding and come back here.

“So are we going to pretend we don’t know each other?” Noah suddenly asks.

I can read Noah’s moods like an old weather-beaten farmer can detect rain. Looks like it’s coming on, boys. His tone (lighthearted), his delivery (pithy, eager)—he’s not wanting to continue our argument; he’s trying to draw me into banter. It’s his version of an apology and likely the only one either of us will deliver.

I look up and study him like I haven’t seen his face in years.

“Of course I know you.” I snap like I’m trying to draw his name out of my brain’s Rolodex. “Nigel something, right?”

I can see the relief in the subtle sag of his shoulders, the sly smile as he forks another bite of his food into his mouth.

“It felt weird not talking to you today,” I admit. Then, because that almost sounds too desperate, I tack on, “You missed a lot. Lorenzo and Gabriella are dating now, I think. They seemed to really hit it off last night.”

They’re still over at the dessert table. It looks like they’re inspecting every single bowl of pudding as if trying to find the best ones. Are they really that interested in dessert, or are they trying to give us time to talk?

“Strange. Is that his thing? Does he just jump from teacher to teacher the whole summer? Seems inappropriate if you ask me.”

He sounds offended.

“Are you upset that he went after Gabriella?”

I just assumed he wouldn’t mind—it’s why I gave them my blessing last night and again today—but maybe I was wrong.

He shakes his head vehemently. “No. I thought you might be annoyed he was going after her now.”

I rear back. “Me?”

Oh right. Last he knew, I was into Lorenzo.

I frown down at my food. “Turns out he’s not my type after all. What a shock.”

“He wasn’t good enough.”

I snort. “Yeah, right. Accomplished handsome Italian man with a great personality—total dud, I see exactly what you mean.”

He pffts. “He was only ever average, and you’re…”

My heart swells and I work up the courage to look over at him, but his attention is down on his plate.

“Hilarious,” I supply.

He rolls his eyes.

“One of a kind.”

At this he pretends to gag himself with his fork.

“A total dream girl.”

He looks up and spears me with his warm gaze. “Audrey,” he deadpans.

“Noah,” I deadpan back.

We hold eye contact for one, two, three.

“Should we talk about last night?” I blurt.

His entire demeanor changes in an instant. I want to take an eraser to my question. “What’s there to talk about? You shouted at me in a bar.”

He says it like it’s no big thing, but my hackles go up instantly. “I didn’t shout.”

He shrugs. “You came on to me. I kissed you and then you got mad at me for it. I mean, come on, Audrey.”

I’m leaning toward him now, heated. “I wasn’t upset with you because you kissed me. I was upset with you because of your motives for kissing me!”

I realize belatedly that our voices are starting to carry.

A table of Trinity students is staring at us with wide eyes. Just great.

“See that’s what I can’t wrap my head around,” he continues, leaning closer. “You think I kissed you—”

“Keep your voice down!”

The others are walking back now. They’ll be at the table any second.

“You think I kissed you because I wanted to—what? Hurt you?” he whisper-hisses. “You know that’s bullshit.”

“We got you guys bread pudding!” Ashley singsongs, waving spare dessert in the air before plopping a bowl down in front of Noah and another in front of me. “And you don’t have to thank us, but seriously, this stuff will change your life. Did bread pudding originate in Italy?”

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