In Harmony (Fenbrook Academy #2)(25)
Author: Helena Newbury

“Hot chocolate?” he asked, and I wanted to hug him.

***

We wandered down the street, ostensibly looking for a cab but focused mainly on each other, our fingers gradually thawing in the heat from the cardboard cups. Fairy lights were lighting up the trees above, casting a soft glow over us and it felt magical. Like anything could happen.

“Can I ask you something?” he said.

I could feel his eyes on me, and I tensed up. “Sure.”

“Why are you having problems? I mean, you ace all your performances, you get straight As…why do you even need the recital? What’s your weak spot?”

I hadn’t shared my problem with anyone. Other people must have wondered why I always skipped the presentations, but they didn’t know why. I’d always been too self-conscious about it, but I wanted to tell him. I wanted to tell him everything.

“I can’t speak in front of people,” I told him. It sounded so pathetic, when I said it out loud.

“You’re scared?” he asked.

Yep, I thought guiltily. You have an actual problem, a learning disability. And I’m basically just afraid. “Yeah.”

He was silent for a moment, and I thought I’d stunned him with how ridiculously minor my problem was. But he was frowning, really concentrating, and it hit me that he was imagining what it was like for me. No one had ever done that for me before.

“That’s rough,” he said at last, and I could hear he meant it.

“It’s stupid,” I said. “I should just get over it.”

He put a hand on my shoulder and stopped me. “No, it isn’t. You can’t function if you’re scared.” The hand lifted to my cheek, and I drew my breath in.

“What are you scared of?” I asked, more to cover what I was feeling than because I expected him to tell me.

“Trying,” he said simply. “You can’t fail if you don’t try.”

I looked up into his eyes. Another piece of the puzzle that was Connor Locke fell into place. The party lifestyle was easy. Playing solo in bars was easy. Battling the dyslexia, doing the recital…that was hard.

And yet…he was doing it for me.

And then I felt it. Something bigger than thought, heavier than an ocean. It hadn’t crept up on me; it had been there, hanging above me, for weeks. I just hadn’t acknowledged its presence.

Standing there under the fairy lights, I finally let it slam down into me, and I felt like I was falling and flying at the same time. Oh my God.

“Are you okay?” Connor asked, concerned. “You look…spooked.”

A cab drew near and I practically ran under its wheels to get it to stop. “I’m fine!” I yelled over my shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” And before he could protest, I was bouncing into the back seat and waving goodbye.

Even before his hand had dropped from its bemused wave, I had my phone out.

“Natasha? It’s Karen. I’m in love with Connor Locke!”

A second of bar noise and whispered voices. She must be in Flicker, with the others.

“Duh!” chorused Natasha, Clarissa and Jasmine down the phone.

Chapter 16

“What do you mean, ‘duh’?” I asked. “You knew?!”

I heard the phone being put down on the table as Natasha put me on speaker. “You have been spending a lot of time with him,” she said.

“And he is super-hot,” said Clarissa.

“And I caught the two of you in the storeroom,” said Jasmine. “Are you sure it’s love and not just…you know…the understandable desire to wrap your thighs around him?”

I thought back to the sidewalk. My heart was still hammering from it. “Nope. Definitely the real thing.”

All three of them squeed.

“What do I do?” I asked.

“Tell him, obviously.” It was Natasha’s voice, but I could hear them all making noises of agreement.

“I can’t. I don’t know if he feels the same. I don’t know if he feels anything. He might just feel sorry for me.”

“Okay,” said Jasmine. “What you need is a signed contract from him saying he promises not to reject you if and when you choose to tell him. Then you can tell him safely.”

I hesitated. “Really?”

“No, you idiot, not really! I was making a point! There are no guarantees in this stuff. You just have to go for it.”

I bit my lip. “What if he says ‘No’ and we can’t work together after that?”

Jasmine was in full romance-guru mode. “You can’t put love on hold for your career!”

“I’m serious! If we don’t do the recital together, I don’t graduate.”

She went quiet for a second and when she spoke again, she’d sobered up. “Hmm.”

We all sat there in silence, them in the dark, noisy warmth of Flicker and me in the back seat of a cab, rushing through the streets. Everyone was thinking hard, but no one came up with anything. It was Clarissa who eventually dared to speak. “This is still huge. You’re in love.”

“I’ve never been in love before.”

There was a shocked silence from the other end, which was when I realized I’d said it out loud.

“Never?” asked Jasmine reverently. “That’s so romantic!”

“He better not break your heart,” said Clarissa.

“I haven’t even told him yet! I can’t tell him!” I thought for a second. “I’m seeing him tomorrow. He’s coming to my apartment to rehearse.” Suddenly, the world seemed to be shifting under me. When we’d arranged it, it had been no big deal—just a chance to work on his essay with him. But now….

Now, I either had to risk everything and tell him how I felt…or sit there and pretend not to be in love with him.

***

Construction work meant the cab had to take a circuitous route to get back to my area, which gave me some thinking time. I’d ended the call (after the girls had drunk toasts to me down the phone) and was sitting in the back of the cab, stewing.

It was ridiculous—I couldn’t hide how I felt, just because of the recital.

It was ridiculous—I couldn’t risk my entire career, just because I was in love with him.

I went round and round as we drove through block after block and didn’t make any progress. What if it was just me? What if he saw me as just a friend?

“I’m sorry, Karen. I don’t feel that way about you. I mean, you’re not really my type, you know?”

I imagined crying in front of him. Or passing out. Or running from the room. I was pretty sure that however badly it went, he’d be able to work with me afterwards, but could I work with him?

And what if—by some slim chance—it went well? What if he did feel the same way, and we ended up…what, exactly? Going out? Boyfriend and girlfriend? I tried to imagine Connor with a steady girlfriend, and couldn’t. Imagining him with me just seemed ridiculous.

And if he did feel the same way about me…why hadn’t he said anything? Why hadn’t he asked me out?

For months, I’d held back the tide, denying how I felt about him…and now that I’d finally admitted it, I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

I stared out of the window without seeing until finally I saw something that made me jerk back, surprised. A street sign I recognized, despite having never been there in person before. Jasmine’s street.

“Wait. Turn in here, please,” I told the cabbie.

If I couldn’t solve my own problems, maybe I could help my friends.

***

I’d never been to Jasmine’s apartment—she’d always preferred to meet at mine, or at Flicker. As I got out of the cab, I could see why.

The neighborhood itself was bad—worse than Connor’s, by my estimate. And the building Jasmine rented in was by far the worst on the block, with enough graffiti, chips and cracks for the rest of the street put together. I was sure the rusting fire escape wasn’t up to code and two windows were boarded up.

Jasmine had said she wouldn’t accept any more money for rent, but I knew she was still tight. I also knew she was safely in Flicker with the others, where she couldn’t stop me helping her.

It was a total spur-of-the-moment thing. I figured if I talked to her landlord and offered to quietly pay him something towards the rent, I could give Jasmine some breathing room—and she wouldn’t be able to reject it because, by the time she found out about it, it would all be done.

I didn’t have much money on me, but the allowance my father sent each month would arrive soon. If I budgeted super-tightly, I could probably spare a hundred bucks or so—and that was better than nothing, right? I could arrange it with the landlord now and then PayPal him or something.

I checked the bell pushes. There was one with Jasmine’s surname, so I was in the right place. Jasmine had said that her landlord had taken the whole of the first floor, so I pushed that one.

The man who opened the door was balding, with greasy hair slicked back from his temples. The belly that pushed out his Nicks t-shirt suggested that his sweatpants were for comfort, not exercise. “Yeah?” he asked doubtfully.

“It’s about Jasmine—she rents from you?” I said, trying to make my voice as bright and bouncy as hers.

He frowned. “Mm-hmm?”

I shifted my weight from foot to foot. It was freezing, out on the doorstep. “She said that she’d been having some problems paying. I’m her friend.”

His expression changed. “You have her rent? She still owes me.”

“No, I don’t actually have any money….”

He gave me a you’re wasting my time look.

“But Jasmine said she was talking to you about working out an arrangement.”

He looked shocked. “She told you about that?”

“Yes. Maybe I could help with that? Like, each month?”

He blinked a couple of times and looked at me a little closer. Then he opened the door wide. “Come in,” he said.

Inside, it was warmer. But if anything the interior was even less well maintained, with water stains and cracked paintwork. A couple of the lights looked like they hadn’t worked in years.

“Let’s go into Jasmine’s apartment,” the landlord said, and led the way up the stairs.

As he unlocked the door, I started to get a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. He was the landlord and Jasmine was behind on her rent—he probably had a perfect right to be there. But it still felt wrong, wandering into her place when she wasn’t there. Or was it something else that was bothering me?

It was a small apartment—bigger than Connor’s, but still only three rooms: a lounge and kitchen combined, a bedroom beyond that and a door to what I assumed was the bathroom.

Something crunched underfoot. I had a pretty good idea what it was, and I didn’t want to lift my shoe to find out if I was right.

The landlord smiled at me…and then walked straight through to the bedroom. “You coming?” he asked. And pulled off his t-shirt.

I stood there gaping.