Chapter 5
I landed in London, rented a place, and started living alone.
At first, I couldn’t adjust to life here, couldn’t stomach the food, and was depressed all day wanting to go home.
A week after I left home, Kieran finally texted me: [You just left without saying a word?]
[Yeah.]
[Why?]
I took forever to reply:
[Because I hate you too.]
[No need to tell you shit.]
When I wasn’t taking his money, I never talked to him like this.
Because I figured there was no point fighting with someone who was starved for love.
But now I was in a bad mood and didn’t give a damn about his feelings.
Kieran didn’t reply.
Instead, Sage called me.
She asked me through tears:
‘What did you say to Kieran?”
I kept reading while giving her half–assed responses: “Nothing much.”
She choked up: “He blocked me.”
I closed my book, shocked.
‘What?”
Sage was sobbing, and after catching her breath, she said clearly through gritted teeth: “He BLOCKED all my contact info.”
I said: “Maybe he got wasted and went crazy. Just wait for him to sober up and regret it.”
I hung up.
Too busy to provide emotional support.
After first semester ended, I had a month–long winter break back home, flying back with a senior from my program.
His family was running late, so he had to wait.
He ended up giving me a ride and helping with my luggage.
After getting out of the station, I saw Kieran.
He’d gotten thinner, making him look even taller.
He took my suitcase from the senior and walked beside me.
No mockery, no avoiding me like the plague.
At nineteen, he finally seemed halfway human.
“Who was that guy just now?”
He stopped walking and asked.
I said: “A senior I know pretty well.”
Kieran said: “You need to be careful abroad. Don’t trust people too easily.”
“Lots of international students aren’t what they seem.”
I looked up at him, a bit hesitant.
“Not necessarily.”
“I think my boyfriend’s a really good guy.”
Kieran froze.
I’d already spotted Dad’s car in the parking lot, so I jogged over, opened the door, and finally saw Mom in the passenger seat.
“Where’s Kieran? Didn’t he go pick you up?”
I put down my backpack.
“He’s slow.”
“I wanted to see you sooner, so I ran ahead.”
Mom laughed.
‘I had the housekeeper buy groceries. We’ll make your favorites when we get home.”
‘You look…” She paused.
‘Hmm? You didn’t lose weight.”
After three minutes, Kieran still hadn’t come over.
Dad called him.
He hurried over and got in the back seat.
He kept his eyes down the whole time, both eyes red.
No idea what he was thinking.
At dinner, Kieran stayed silent and distant.
He’d always been like this, not giving anyone face.
So we were used to it.
After eating, I didn’t go upstairs. Instead, I went to the garden to swing.
The yard was full of orange–red fallen leaves rustling softly.
Kieran followed me out.
He stood behind me, his voice a bit hoarse:
“Do you actually like someone, or did you make up a boyfriend to piss me off?”
My toes lightly touched the grass, slowing the swing down.
“Why would I use that to piss you off?”
“Would that even make you mad?”
Kieran dodged the question.
“What’s his name?”
I said: “Felix Hartwell.”
I wasn’t lying to him, and I wouldn’t use cheap tricks like that to get his attention.
I really was with someone.
‘Ivy, you’ve only been abroad three months.”
I nodded, totally calm about it.
‘Exactly because we just got together, I didn’t want him to cancel his plans to come back with me.”
He took a deep breath.
‘Is he loaded?”
‘Never asked. Probably not as rich as you.”
Few people were as generous as Kieran–in high school, his transfers were always in the tens of thousands.
Kieran suddenly grabbed the swing rope.
The rope was rough, and by the time the swing stopped, his palm was bleeding.
He walked in front of me and leaned down.
His eyes were dark as ink, emotions colder than tonight’s autumn wind.
What the hell do you see in him?”
‘oo close.
looked away and shrank back: “He’s a good person.”
Move. I want to go back to my room.”
