Isla and the Happily Ever After (19 page)

“I want you to know that I love you,” Josh says. “And I want to be with you. No matter what happens.”

My eyes fill back with tears. “Don’t say that.”

“It might happen.”

“Don’t say that!”

His shell is cracking. “I
love
you. Do you still love me?”

“How could you ask me that?” The change in Josh’s demeanour is frightening. It’s as if he could shatter at any moment. “Of course I love you. This hasn’t changed anything.”

“But it was my fault. This whole weekend was my idea.” He’s breathing too fast, and his eyes aren’t focusing. He’s having a panic attack.

“Hey. Hey.” I wrap my arms around him and place my head against his chest. “I wanted to go. It was my decision, too.”

But he can only cling to me. His fingers grip my shoulders so hard that it hurts.

“I love you,” I say quietly. “I have
always
loved you.”

His heart rate slows. And then again. “What do you mean? Always?”

I pull back to meet his gaze. I hold it, steady. “I mean that you never have to worry about me leaving you, because I’ve been in love with you since our freshman year.”

My confession leaves him stunned.

“There’s no story,” I say. “I saw you one day, and I just knew.”

Josh stares at me. He looks
inside
of me. And then he kisses me with more passion than he’s ever kissed me with before. It gives us the strength to face our future. It gives us the strength to return to our dorm. And it gives us the strength to knock on Nate’s door.

Unfortunately, Nate doesn’t open it.

Mrs. Wasserstein does.

Chapter nineteen

“I had to catch a flight, and I
still
beat you here. Outstanding.” Mrs. Wasserstein throws up her hands in anger. Nate stands behind her, tense, a prisoner of his own apartment.

Josh is in shock.

“Do you realize what an inconvenience this is?” she continues. “Being called overseas
one
week
before the election? Do you even care?” Mrs. Wasserstein is petite, much shorter than I’d realized, though you’d never dwell on it. Her presence is huge. She looks as strong as she does on camera, but – in this moment – far more frightening. She sizes me up with hazel eyes that are startlingly familiar. “And you must be Isla.”

My name sounds as unwelcome as I feel. My eyes drop to the floor. “Hello.”

Josh stands partially in front of me, shielding me. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Mom.”

“You will be.”

Nate steps in. “I’m glad you guys made it home safely. Isla—”

“We have an appointment early tomorrow morning with the head of school,” Mrs. Wasserstein says.

A catch in my throat. “All of us?”

“No.” She frowns. “My
son
and I.”

My face burns with the shame of being put in my place.

“Isla,” Nate says, “your appointment is on Tuesday. Why don’t—”

“Thank you for your help,” Mrs. Wasserstein says to him. “I understand that my son has been making your job difficult. I’m sorry to have inconvenienced you like this.”

I get the sense that
she’s
been making his job difficult, but Nate only rubs his shaved head. “It’s what I do. And it’s okay, he’s a good kid.”

She clearly doesn’t believe him. Maybe she would if she knew Mike and Dave. She gives him a brusque nod before turning back to Josh. “We’re leaving.”

His eyes widen. “Where are we going?”

“Your room. We have much to discuss, young man.” She holds open the door and nods again, her farewell to me. “Isla.”

My ribcage is compressing my heart into a tiny, painful stone. As he’s led away, Josh squeezes my hand with the same unbearable force. Our hands let go only when they can no longer reach. There’s a final exchange of anguished expressions, and he’s gone. I’m rigid with silence. Nate sighs.

“We’re in a lot of trouble, aren’t we?” I finally manage.

“You’ll be all right.”

“Will Josh?”

Nate gives me a sad look.

Another horrible thought occurs to me. “Are
my
parents coming? Is that why my appointment isn’t until Tuesday?”

“No. Your appointment is on Tuesday, because tomorrow is a holiday. Remember?”

Tomorrow is the first of November. All Saint’s Day. It’s a national holiday in France, which means that…the head of school is coming in on her day off to speak with Josh.

It’s understood that Josh and I won’t be seeing each other until after his appointment. But that doesn’t stop me from checking my phone for texts every sixty seconds.

I hate my sister. Hate. Her.

If it wasn’t for Hattie, I’d be in Josh’s room right now – and his mother would not – and we’d be planning our Swiss rendezvous. My phone blips. I lunge for it, but the text is from Kurt:
Train timetable says you should have arrived 3 hrs ago.

I reply:
We did.

Are you ok?

NO.

A minute later, he knocks on my door. “Why don’t you just push it open, like you always do?” I shout.

Kurt does. “You sound angry.”

“I am.”

“Are you angry with me?”

“Yes.”

He wedges a textbook underneath my door. “I had to, Isla. They asked me.”

“What did Hattie even want?”

“She wanted to borrow your hair dryer.”

“My
hair dryer
?”

“Yeah. The…diffuser? Is that the thing you put on the end? She wanted to try to curl her hair.”

“And she couldn’t borrow one from somebody in her own stupid dorm?”

His left eye twitches. “I don’t know.”

A hair diffuser. I can’t believe this entire situation was caused by a freaking
hair diffuser.
A pirate and a devil stroll past my open door, heading towards the lobby for Résidence Lambert’s annual Halloween party. It’s unfathomable to me that anyone would be in the mood for a celebration.

“Why – for once in your life – couldn’t you just lie? That’s
all
you had to do.”

Kurt pulls up his hoodie. “They asked me a question. I gave them the answer.”

“Yeah, well? Thanks to you? My boyfriend is about to be kicked out of school.”

“That’s not my fault. I didn’t do that. He did that.”

I don’t care that he’s speaking the truth. I don’t care that it’s our fault. It still wouldn’t be happening if Kurt could’ve kept his mouth shut. He’s supposed to be my best friend. I yank out the textbook and hold open the door even wider. “Go. Away.”

He flaps his hands, upset. “Isla.”

I close my eyes. “I can’t deal with you right now. Just go.”

He’s still there. I sense the movement of his hands. I squeeze my eyes tighter, so tight that it hurts, until I feel him brush past me. The stairwell door
clangs
open.

“Boo!” a male voice says.

My eyes pop open. Someone in a
Scream
mask is two inches away from my nose. There’s laughter down the hall as I slam my door shut in the jerk’s face. I collapse into bed. I’m crying again. Maybe Mrs. Wasserstein is here to keep Josh from getting expelled. She’s a powerful woman. I’ll bet even the head of school is scared of her.

I’m scared of her.

She probably blames me for all of this. I wanted to make a good first impression on Josh’s parents. I didn’t know if they’d like me – if they’d think I was exceptional enough for their son – but now I don’t stand a chance. I don’t even know if they were aware of my existence before yesterday.

Josh still hasn’t texted. I’m afraid his mom might be monitoring his phone, so I only text him once more. I keep it short and non-incriminating: I love you.

A few minutes later, there’s a rapid-fire knocking. I spring from my bed and throw open the door. But it’s Hattie. The sight of her fills me with a scarlet rage. She’s wearing an oversize Hawaiian shirt that’s been buttoned up wrong. Her hair is ratted out in every direction. She has dark under-eye circles, fake bruises, and a pencil-thin moustache.

“What are you supposed to be?” I ask, as calmly as possible. Which isn’t calm at all.

She holds up a piece of cardboard. It’s been painted white, and it has black lines labelled with inches and feet. “I’m a mugshot.”

“Practising for your future?”

“
Oui
.” She just stands there.

“What? What do you want, Hattie?”

“I wanna apologize, jeez.”

I wait.

She waits.

“Was that it?” I ask. “That was your apology?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow. I hope you feel better now. Because I sure do. I feel
so much better
knowing my boyfriend might be expelled because you were
that
impatient for a hair diffuser.”

Her stone expression falters. “I didn’t know I was gonna get you guys in trouble. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

“Me, too.” I slam my door shut.

It pops open. Hattie looks at me with a startled hope until she realizes it was an accident. We scowl at each other as I slam it back shut. I push against it, hard, until I feel the
click
beneath my palms.

The party carries on all night. Josh never texts. I don’t remember falling asleep, but I startle awake around eight in the morning. There’s a swollen hush over the dormitory. Everyone is finally in bed. I was dreaming about the need to catch a train, but I couldn’t stop putting on make-up. I was helpless as I applied layer after sluggish layer, watching the clock tick closer and closer and closer to my departure time.

Two knocks, low on my door.

I jolt into a sitting position.
That’s
what woke me up. That’s his second knock. The sound is heavy and foreboding. I lurch out of bed, but I’m terrified to open the door. I press my ear against the wood.

“
Josh?
” I whisper.

There’s no reply.

I’m gripped by a new fear. He’s already gone. I’m hearing sounds that never existed. I tear open the door, but he’s there – of course he’s there – and he looks devastated. He falls towards the floor. I rush forward, and he collapses into my arms with a cry that’s primal. Screw the rules. Screw this school. I shut the door and lead him to my bed. I cradle his body as he slams and slams his fist against his own leg.

“It’s okay.” I have to be strong. One of us always has to be strong. “Everything will be okay.” I grab his fist and hold it between my hands. I kiss the crown of his head.

“It’s not okay.”

“You had the meeting?”

“I’m gone. She finally kicked me out.”

My bedroom spins. “And…when do you have to be gone by?”

“
This
is my last day. Today.”

The world goes black. There’s a loud buzzing in my ears. My eyes focus, refocus, refocus like an automatic camera that can’t get it right.

“One of the custodians took my mom to get shipping boxes. And then she’s coming back, and we’re gonna pack up all of my stuff.”

Refocus. Refocus. Refocus.

Josh pulls out his hand from mine to claw at me with all ten fingers. “But we’ll see each other soon. Thanksgiving. You’re still coming home for Thanksgiving, right?”

I nod robotically.

“And then there’s winter break. We’ll spend every day together, and on New Year’s Eve, we’ll meet at Kismet for a kiss. At midnight. Okay? And then we’ll have spring break, and then it’ll be summer again. It’ll be over.”

I swallow. “What will you do? Where will you finish high school?”

“My mom doesn’t want to talk about it until the election is over. They’re pissed. My parents are
so pissed.
I had to talk to my dad last night, and then my mom took away my phone. That’s why I couldn’t call or text you. I’m eighteen, and my
parents
took away my
phone.
”

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” I can’t stop saying it. “We’ll be okay.”

There’s another knock, and Nate starts talking without preamble. “Josh, I let your mom into your room so that you and Isla could have a few minutes alone. But you need to go up there now.”

Even Nate feels sorry for us.

My lie was more severe than I realized. Nothing – absolutely nothing – is okay.

Chapter twenty

The head of school sits behind a desk as intimidating as it is large. Its mahogany is polished, and it carries the scent of musk and wealth. Two flags on indoor poles rest on each side – one American, one French. An overstuffed leather chair sits behind the desk, and two diminutive leather chairs sit before it. I am in one of the diminutive chairs.