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I stare at her for a second, an amused smile on my lips. “Of course, I asked, my dear, and more than once.”
Between my failed attempt to make out with Harriet in a bed that wasn’t mine and the end of the evening I managed to find the time to investigate. Just because I’m in the background doesn’t mean I’m not paying attention. When Scar’s back was turned, I threw two or three disapproving glances at Corey Burtton. So rather than confront him, I used my acquaintances. Where Edgar thinks with his emotions, I think with my head. Scarlett wants to date a guy, who cares? But the guy better be clean. And I made sure of that, period.
“You guys are such a pain in the ass!”
She throws her sunglasses on her towel and walks quickly toward the sea. Elbows resting on the ground, I stare at her until she enters the water. Her skin has slightly browned in the sun,but it’s the swaying of her buttocks that catches my attention. I lay back on my stomach, forcing myself to drop my analysis of the Scarlett-back-from-France that was a little too strong to focus on Edgar’s voice.
“You didn’t tell me you wanted to find out who this guy was.”
“I was going to tell you about it today,” I confess.
“So, he looks good?” Edgar asked.
“Political science, worthy family, a perfectly acceptable record of achievement, and a bunch of soft friends. It may suit her.”
Edgar sighs and gets up too.
“Then I guess I’ll have to keep my mouth shut,” Edgar says.
“You’re going to stop worrying about bullshit and enjoy the sun!” adds Leo.
“He needs to fuck,” I tease him, straightening up. “Because seriously, Ed, it’s sad thinking about what your sister is doing with her ass instead of thinking about the one you can fuck!”
I burst out laughing when he chases me to sea and dives in headfirst.
A Martin par excellence: so easy to piss off!
7
Scarlett
When I leave my last class of the day, it’s after five o’clock. I quickly glance at my phone, listening with one ear to what the girls are saying as we head to the parking lot. I’m exhausted despite a rather quiet and calm weekend. I slept well on Saturday night, but yesterday was another matter. I went to settle on the sofa around two in the morning and I zapped more than an hour and a half before finally falling asleep. Sudden awakening at sunrise and couldn’t sleep after that.
“Oh, oh!” Paige sings. “I believe there’s someone for you, Scarlett!”
I look up as a silhouette materializes in front of our group. His face still smiling, still walking with confidence, Corey stands in front of us.
“Hi,” he says
He glances over at my girlfriends, greeting them kindly before gazing at me.
“Would you like to get a coffee with me?”
His face lights up at the mention of alone time with me, and I bite the inside of my cheek, embarrassed. Since we met at Friday night’s party, we haven’t stopped texting all weekend. It was easy, no fuss, but now that he’s clearly visible in front of me, I don’t know what to do. I’m not an expert, on relationships, even less when the person I’m talking to is overtly interested in me. He told me Friday night, and yesterday, when we were discussing the events that led us to meeting.
He likes me.
At the apartment party, it was simple: I was drunk, I was pissed at Nolan and Harriet for nearly soiling my bed, and Corey was there. Funny, teasing, interesting. A sudden flush of heat spreads in my chest at the memory of these last days in hiscompany and I smile at him, adding with honesty, “I’d love to.”
I turn to my girlfriends, full of confidence while deep down I panic knowing that I’m going to be alone with a guy. Sober. It won’t be the first time, but things since Evan Teryl have changed.I havechanged. I still ask myself so many questions, but mostly I have an even harder time bringing men into my life. It’s a block. It was already there before I left for France, it was always there when I was in Paris, but it has been even more oppressive since I came back.
And this block has a name that still gives me shivers despite all my attempts to get it out of my mind.
But Corey is cool, and I’d be a fool not to give him a chance. At least that’s what the girls kept telling me all weekend after spending part of Friday night in our company. They found him charming and gave me nothing but praise.
They didn’t need to elaborate; their deduction was crystal clear. He was perfect because he wasn’t Nolan and that’s the best I can ask for right now.
And I know that deep down, they’re right.
