Chapter 11
11
“ I ’m sorry, what did you just say?” Jaqueline’s face leans so close to her iPad screen, I see the eyeliner smudged under her left eye, and up her right nostril.
I don’t mean to tell her everything, it just…falls out. I’ve kept the things listed in my NDA a secret from Jaqueline. Barely. But I tell her in excruciating detail about my little dalliance. Whatever Kendall slipped me last night has lasting effects on my impulse control. I’m in no hurry to leave my room. What if I spill all the beans to someone here and ruin my chances with either Dominic or All Saints?
“Okay, I’m going to repeat back what I heard.” Jaqueline pinches the bridge of her nose, and then levels her eyes into the camera.
“Kendall followed you to a party last night, spiked your drink, and then you… kissed him. No, correction. Dry humped him. Helena, I can’t even say those words. It’s just…beyond bananas.”
“Yeah, I just…” I wave my hands in the air, at a loss for what I “just”.
She purses her lips. “Well, how was it?”
“How was what?”
Her breath erupts like a volcanic explosion. “Tea with the Queen. You ass. Kissing Kendall.”
“Oh.” I’ve spent so much of my time obsessing over how messed up the whole situation is that I haven’t stopped to consider that point. I sit a moment. “Terrible,” I lie, straight into the camera.
She blinks. “Jesus, Helena. What a messed up thing. You liked it.”
I throw up my hands. “He did too! It’s like we were both on drugs! It was absolutely ludicrous.” I drop my head to my hands. “Why does he have to be God’s gift to kissing? He’s insufferable. He’s a bastard. He’s worse here than he was at home . ”
I’m near tears, wishing I could get a hug from my best friend.
“So this scholarship is the only way you can stay at Oxford?” She’s chewing her lip. “I don’t want you to admit defeat, but it seems like if you want to avoid Kendall…”
“I am not letting him chase me off. Jaqueline, our high school voted me Most Likely to Be Boring. This is what I’ve always wanted, what I’ve always dreamed of. I’m finally here, and no stupid asshole is going to keep me from my dreams.”
She chews her lip again. “I’ve always wondered why he hated you so much.”
“Join the club.” I shrug. “General asshole nature?”
She hmmmm s. “Or he doth protest too much.”
I give a labored sigh. “I told you about the closet. He hated that his friends tricked him into thinking I was Clara. It embarrassed him and he overcompensated by being an absolute dick for four years.”
But that’s not exactly the story he told me last night. According to him, he’d been pissed off that the kiss had been so good, and that since he had a girlfriend, we couldn’t continue kissing. Which, again, asshole, since he absolutely could have broken up with Clara if he was that tortured over the trick.
“I mean, that’s what we’ve always assumed. That he’s just a dick. But there’s something else going on. What are the odds you’d end up at Oxford together?”
It gets even weirder when you add in the secret society, but I can’t tell her that part. “Yeah,” I agree.
“And then he just… lays one on you out of the blue.” She shakes her head. “Is it possible that he has been in love with you all these years and can’t resist being near you anymore? Like some epic windswept gothic novel?”
We both pause and then snort with laughter. Mine maybe a tinge on the hysterical side. “He hates me. He even told me last night.” To be fair, I’d said it first.
“Hate is hot. Maybe he just wants a hate fu?—”
“Absolutely not. That… person is not getting my virginity.”
She sits forward. “Oooh, is there a candidate for that? Thank God, you need one fantastic British lay before you come home for Christmas. Let me live vicariously through you. All the guys here are the same as those back home. I’m sad.”
I don’t want to talk about Dominic. “Let’s change the subject. How are classes?”
Her dorm room is littered with Virginia Tech colors, and her sweatshirt is the requisite purple and gold. But on top of that, books are scattered everywhere. And empty cans of Monster energy. “Fine.”
“Jaqueline. Don’t you lie to me.”
She blows out a breath. “Hard. Really hard .”
“You… are aware you’re going to medical school?” I squint at her.
“Why did I let you talk me into this again? How about this, you move here, and study international relations from Virginia. At least then at 2am when I finish studying every night, I can harass you in person.”
It stabs deep. I hated leaving Jaqueline. “Well, studying international relations at Oxford looks better on a resume. But.” I take in a deep breath. I have to be careful here. “I love it here but it’s so expensive . If I lose my scholarship…. I’m going to have to come home.”
“Why would you lose your scholarship? Haven’t you been doing a bunch of volunteer work? I barely talk to you, you’re either doing that or studying.”
“Yes.” I wave my hands, because how do I explain the nature of all of this when I don’t get it myself. “It’s just… they judge on vague criteria. It’s hard for me to know if I’m passing them or not.”
“It sounds illegal,” she grumbles.
She’s not wrong. It probably is. Hence the secret society part.
She rattles on about her classes for a while. I listen, battling pangs of homesickness. Her college experience so far sounds so normal, if challenging . And okay, she doesn’t have a hot as hell neighbor with a British accent, but she also doesn’t have to attend Sunday night dinners in weird black graduation robes, or learn a seven-minute Latin prayer.
She’s waxing poetic about her organic chemistry tutor as I flip through my mail. The only thing I’ve done today is dash to the Porter’s gate and grab my mail, hoping for a package from my mother. Peanut butter. Popcorn. Laffy Taffy. But it’s just a card from my Aunt Mary and a blank white envelope.
Oh goody. Another bill.
“You know, you could apply and come here instead,” I cajole, as she shows me her syllabus with her required reading. “England should be able to handle the both of us.”
She scoffs. “Helena, the fact that anyone from our town made it into Oxford is insane. Much less two of you. Honestly, it feels like more than coincidence.”
“Three of us,” I say absently, slitting open the envelope in my hand. It’s thick paper. At least when they send a giant bill, they do it nicely. God Bless the English. “Clara is here, remember?”
She’s silent a long beat. “Clara…Kendall and Clara, Clara ?”
I glance at the screen. “Yeah. Um. Have I not mentioned that?”
Jaqueline is speechless. And then pensive. “I mean this in the most scholarly of ways, but what the actual fucking hell?”
“I believe the British favor saying bloody hell.”
“No, I mean it. How are all three of you at Oxford ? Like, stick a tin foil hat on me, but it’s conspiracy-level weird. Doesn’t it strike you as odd?”
I’m silent because… yeah. Exactly all that. And add a cup of secret society and Kendall’s father running the scholarship interviews. I cough. “I mean, I was a straight-A student.”
“Yeah.” Jaqueline is far away, chewing her lip. “I mean, I’m happy for you. I truly think you deserve it. But. Clara wasn’t that good of a student. Good enough to get into college, sure, but…Oxford?”
I shrug, trying to sound nonchalant instead of like I’m letting her in on a secret that toes the line of my NDA. “Kendall’s father works here, maybe Kendall had him pull strings so he and Clara could be together. And maybe Kendall only got in because of his Dad too.” There. That’s close to my suspected truth without involving my scholarship.
“Yeah. Maybe.” She’s not convinced. “Just please watch out for yourself, okay? I don’t love how this is shaping up into a true crime flashback. There’s something else going on here. And it seems to center on Kendall.” Her best friend gut instinct is too good. Another sigh. “Okay, since this is your dream and everything, and I’m rooting for you to become Prime Minister or whatever, what is your plan B?”
I chortle. “I can’t become Prime Minister, Jac, I’m not a British citizen. And what do you mean Plan B?” While we chat, I open the thick envelope and unfold the heavy paper. It’s a statement that my current term is paid in full, compliments of my scholarship. Relief sweeps over me. At least I’ll be allowed to finish my term, not forced out in the night. Something flutters to my desk, and I grab at it.
“Yeah, what are you going to do if you lose the scholarship? Didn’t you say you couldn’t afford even another term on your own? We need to plan a way for you to stay in Oxford. Marriage of convenience?” She snorts at her own joke.
I blink. “I…” The paper that fluttered to the desk? It’s a check.
For ten thousand dollars.
That guy at dinner had said he’s just in it for the money. No freaking joke. If this is what test one paid, what about test two? My inner circuitry rewires in a moment because…ten thousand dollars and a paid for term? That’s a hell of a lot of money. So much money, that if I’m careful, I can fund my own stay here long enough to get a job or qualify for a legitimate scholarship. I’ve heard Margaret Dusberry is looking for second year interns. If I can stay long enough?—
“Helena?”
New plan. I soak this society for as much money as I need to fund my stay at Oxford. I’ll have to play the game a while longer. I’ll have to deal with Kendall. But it will be worth it.
I slowly raise my eyes to the screen. “Screw coming home. I’ll figure out how to do this on my own. Here. Get a job, or apply for other scholarships.”
Jaqueline’s brow crinkles. “You really think you can find a job to help you pay for a college in another country ? Don’t you have a student visa?”
What if I stay long enough to fall in love and marry someone here? What if I stay in this fraternity long enough to get all of the financial benefits and then bow out gracefully at the end? I don’t have anything to lose at this point, and I can’t explain it but Oxford feels vital to me. Like I’m meant to be here. “While we were talking I got my confirmation that my scholarship renewed. You were right, Jac, I was worried about nothing. All my volunteering and performance has been enough. This term is paid for. It’s all going to work out.”
She presses her lips together. “I want to be happy for you, but are you sure you’re okay? You’re acting weird. Even weirder than the start of the conversation, if that’s possible.”
“I’m completely fine. Better than fine. I have to go but thank you. Love you.”
And it’s true. I’ve figured out how to turn this game to my advantage, starting with a hefty downpayment on my future. What could possibly go wrong?
I get up from my desk, and in doing, nudge the envelope again. There is something else in it. I pause halfway to the door, intent on cashing this check.
The small card is black, and my stomach sinks. It’s another summons—for tonight.