“Look at you,” I say. “It’s the arrival of Saskia into my story. You must be excited.”
He knocks his pen against the clipboard on his knee. “I was interested to know how your paths first crossed. And more interested in hearing how they led you here.”
“Hey, I’m only here for another . . . sixteen hours. Give or take. Beyond that, my path splits.”
He tilts his head. “You must have hated her tattoo. Elephants have soul mates? I thought you had the monopoly on those.”
“Between you and me, Novak, I wouldn’t take anything Saskia tells you to be well researched.”
He laughs once, but I know what he’s doing. He’s pretending to be on my side.
“Okay, so here’s Saskia, moving in on your guy. If this was a love story, we would have reached the problem stage.”
“That’s funny.” I don’t smile. “In any story, Saskia is the problem stage.”
I only watched the bungee rope for a few minutes. Saskia went first, of course, and the sight of her sprinting in that stretchy dress was enough to send me back to the beer tent. When the barman bent down to wash some glasses, I swiped an open bottle of champagne, two-thirds full, and headed out into the quad with it. The grass was already getting mulchy along the sides of the lawn and I teetered along it, trying not to slide in my boots.
Every few meters around the inner courtyard of Keble small stone stairwells led up to offices, probably rooms for tutorials or dons’ chambers. Like everything in that hallowed city, the stairwells were made of stone, and since there were no gaps in the railing I could sit at the top of the steps with my back against the locked chamber door, completely hidden from the crowd.
I climbed up one of the staircases and paused at the top, looking out from the ivy-covered balcony above the party. Now that Saskia had finished her turn, she stood to the side with HP. She’d tied her hair up into a knot at the back of her head: sun-bleached ends splayed outwards from the center like a firework. She was breathing heavily as she poked HP in the ribs; he stood with his arms crossed, grinning and watching Ezra strap into the bungee.
The sky had darkened. It seethed above me in slashed indigo; only a few stars persisted. I grasped the champagne bottle to my chest and slid down the blue paint of the door behind me, letting my legs slump in front of me on the step. The champagne bottle clinked against my front tooth as I sucked down the fizzy froth. It wasn’t long before Freddy found me. He jogged up five of the ten steps and then hesitated.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting wasted. What does it look like?”
“Can I join you, or . . .” His hands rested uncertainly on the thick of his hips, his tux pushed back. He looked like a penguin.
I smacked the step with an open palm, and once he’d puffed up the rest of the stairs to the doorway next to me, I passed him my champagne bottle. He took a small swig and grimaced.
“It’s mostly backwash by now,” I muttered.
“Delightful.” He brought his knees up to his chest and laced his hands around them. “So who are we hiding from up here? The madding crowd, the Australian or Harrison Ford?”
“It’s a toss-up,” I hissed.
“Let her know who’s boss if he means this much to you.”
“She’s beautiful.”
“She’s pretty. If you’re unimaginative.”
I thumped my head against the wooden door. “It’s not meant to go like this.”
I peered over the wall of the balcony. I couldn’t see HP or Saskia, but Ezra was on the greasy pole hitting a skinny boy with a pillow. Where the hell had the other two gone?
“Life doesn’t always go to plan,” Freddy said.
“People like us, Freddy.” I stood and took two steps towards him. “We can have it all.” I pushed down his knees and straddled his thighs as he blinked up at me. “Wouldn’t you say thasstrue?” I knew I slurred the question. I didn’t care.
“Angela . . .” Freddy turned his face away from mine.
“You seriously don’t want this? Tell the truth,” I whispered into his ear, kissing his neck. My nails raked the back of his head.
When I reached down and felt into his crotch, he whimpered, “You don’t want this,” although his fat hips were starting to grind into my thighs.
For a minute I rode there on his lap as the skin around his collar reddened and his breathing turned to gasps. His hands grabbed at my breasts and he pinched a nipple, grunting, “Angela,” his eyes squeezed tight in pleasure, “you’re the only—” and it was then that I stopped. I pushed back and stood, staring down at him as he squirreled and heaved in the doorway.
“You’ve been lying to yourself, Freddy. I can’t stand liars.”
I turned and walked down the stairs.
At the base of the stairwell I’d almost finished straightening my clothes when I heard HP’s voice.
“Where’ve you been?” He was alone. He’d unbuttoned his collar, and his bow tie hung loosely around his neck.
“Nowhere.” I smoothed my bangs flat.
“I’ve been looking all over for you.”
“No you haven’t.”
“Little John, listen . . .” His brow was furrowed. “I wasn’t doing anything wrong.”
“Except flirting with that dumb Australian. Her face is half tanned.”
“I’m not flirting. She’s fun, that’s all.” He wiped one hand against the other. “Hey, we never said we weren’t allowed to h—” He stopped then and stared at the steps behind me.
I turned to see Freddy walk down the last of the stairwell, tucking his shirt into the front of his pants and tugging down his waistcoat. Freddy stood still when he saw us and I wheeled back to face HP.
“Wait.” I took a step towards him.
“You were up there with him?”
“It’s not how it looks.” I reached for his arm, while behind me Freddy piped up.
“Excuse me,” he said, like a keynote speaker. “Don’t badger her, please. It’s unbecoming.”
“Get fucked, Professor Plum.” HP pulled his tie off and stuffed it into his pocket. “Nobody’s buying your we’re just friends act. As if you don’t want to get with her.”
Freddy’s face crinkled like there was a smell. “Get with her? Good Lord. What on earth happened to the English language when it traveled across the pond? It’s been nothing but a steady decline. Get with her.” He sighed theatrically.
HP took a stride towards Freddy, who backpedaled, bracing one hand against the thickness of the banister, but instead HP grabbed my arm and turned me a half step. “Wow, LJ, talk about making a guy feel better about things. Were you hooking up?”