Isla and the Happily Ever After(53)
“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.