I See London. Chanel Cleeton

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surprised you didn’t have a boyfriend in the U.S. You’re cute. What was wrong with those American boys?”

      I laughed. “I’m not great with guys.”

      “Why?”

      “I don’t know. I just get uncomfortable. Like in high school, there was this guy I liked. He was really popular, captain of the soccer team, really hot. We had like five classes together and I still couldn’t manage to talk to him. Finally senior year came around and our chem teacher assigned us as lab partners. I spent the whole time planning out exactly what I was going to say to him. There may have been note cards involved.” Mya snorted. “One day I got so nervous I knocked over one of our experiments.”

      Her eyes widened.

      “Oh, yeah. I started a fire. So for the rest of senior year, he knew me as the girl who started the fire in our chem class.”

      Mya cracked up.

      “It was bad.”

      “You seem to at least be doing better here. No chemical fires.”

      I threw my napkin at her. “Laugh all you want. It sucks being this inept with guys. I do want a boyfriend. I just have no idea how to actually get one.”

      “I can only help you so much. I haven’t dated a ton, either. We need to call in the big guns. You need Fleur.”

      I grimaced. “Trust me, that’s the last thing I need.” I hesitated. “What’s the deal with you and Fleur? Why’d she come out last night?”

      “I think she’s lonely.”

      I found it hard to believe anyone who looked as gorgeous as Fleur could ever be lonely.

      “It’s a bad situation. A lot of their friends jumped ship with the breakup. I don’t think she has anyone besides Samir and his crowd.”

      “Maybe she would have more friends if she was a bit nicer. She still barely speaks to me as it is, and I live with her.” She was marginally nicer to Noora. I figured she just hated Americans. Or it was something I’d done.

      “She’s hard to get close to, yeah. But once you get to know her, she’s not that bad. And despite all the shit with Costa, she’s really good with guys.”

      “Whatever. I don’t think there’s anything to help me with anyway. I’m not going to go back to Cobalt like some loser. If he was interested in seeing me, he would do something about it.”

      Mya waved her hand dismissively. “There are a ton of other guys in this city. If this guy isn’t the guy, you’ll find someone else.”

      I was going to need all the help I could get.

      * * *

      Mya and I separated at Starbucks. She had some shopping to do and I had been dying to go to Hyde Park. From my dorm room window I could just see the tops of the trees. I’d started going on these little walking adventures, exploring the city I’d come to love. Since my visit to Westminster I’d added trips to Buckingham Palace, Harrods, the National Gallery and the Tower of London. Sometimes Noora came with me—she seemed to enjoy doing touristy stuff as much as I did.

      I crossed the street, walking through the oversized iron gates. It was still early for London and the park was fairly empty. I loved the city when it was like this. It felt like it was my own secret place to explore. I wrapped my coat tighter around my body, trying to ward off some of the morning chill. It might have been late September, but London was starting to get cold. I sat in the quiet for an hour, lost in my thoughts.

      “Hey, Maggie.”

      My head jerked up at the sound of my name. George waved at me, jogging over to the bench. I hadn’t seen much of him since the first day, when he helped me move in to my room. Most of my classes were full of freshmen; we had only passed each other in the halls a few times. Despite the small size of the school, London was a big enough city that everyone seemed to have their own thing going on.

      I waved back at him.

      He stopped in front of the bench, his hands on his hips. He seemed a little out of breath.

      “How are you settling in?”

      “I’m adjusting little by little.”

      “How’s Fleur?”

      I pulled a face.

      He grinned. “Don’t take it personally. She’s like that with pretty much everyone. No one lives up to her standards.” He shook his head. “How is everything else? How are your classes?”

      I talked to George for a few more minutes, making plans to go for a run in the park later in the week as we walked back to campus together. We parted ways in the hall.

      Brunch on the weekends was served until one; luckily I had just caught the tail end of the meal. The cafeteria was mostly empty. I made my way through the line, frowning at the meager food offerings. Somehow, unbelievably, the weekend food selection was even worse than normal. I grabbed some cucumbers and white rice, the only appetizing options. I scanned the room for a seat.

      Fleur sat by herself at one of the tables. I hesitated, shifting the tray in my hands. What the hell.

      “Can I join you?”

      Fleur’s head jerked up from the fashion magazine she had been reading. She paused for a moment before gesturing toward the empty chair. “Go ahead.”

      The tone of her voice gave a good indication of where the Ice Queen nickname had come from.

      I sat down across from her, already reevaluating my decision. Fleur continued reading her magazine, her fingers flipping the pages. Voices sounded behind us. Costa walked by with a group of his friends. He didn’t spare a look for Fleur, but her head jerked up at the sound of his voice. The stricken expression on her face said it all.

      “I’m sorry.” The words escaped my mouth before I even thought about what I was saying or who I was saying it to.

      Fleur’s eyes narrowed, her gaze jerking away from Costa and focusing on me. “I don’t need you feeling sorry for me. I’m fine.” Her tone was like ice. “I don’t want to talk about Costa.” She focused back on me. “How about you? What are you going to do about that guy? The one from last night?”

      The topic change surprised me. “Hugh?”

      She nodded.

      I shook my head. “I have no idea.” I hesitated for a moment. “Mya thought I should actually talk to you. She seems to think you’re some sort of guy whisperer.”

      She laughed at that—the sound bitter and somehow incongruous with her beauty. “I’m not sure I’m the example you should hope to emulate.”

      I shrugged. “I’m massively out of my league here.”

      “Aren’t we all?”

      It was weird talking to a girl who looked and dressed like a model but seemed this thrown by a guy.

      “Fair

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