Page 12 of Play With Me

I can’t even talk to myself in the mirror. The thought of getting up in front of anyone to talk about my work makes me break out in a cold sweat.

But I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. The seniors’ stories I’m cataloguing and filming for my thesis definitely hit the theme.

But even if I did want to enter, initial proposals are due two weeks from now. The judges pick the proposals they want to see, and from that pool they pick a winner after the films are made. I don’t even know if they’d like my concept.

“What’s that?” Sasha asks, eyeing the paper.

“Nothing!” I stuff it back in the book. If she knew I’d gone back and picked one of the flyers up, she’d never let me hear the end of it.

“Really. Come on, Sasha. I’m trying to study.”

Luckily, she drops it. “Why? You already know everything.”

“No, I don’t.” I turn back to my book.Parchment retains its texture even under considerable duress, notwithstanding—

A ball hits me in the shoulder.

I narrow my eyes. “Seriously?”

I sit back and fold my arms while Sasha covers her mouth to hide her laughter. I can’t help my own lips turning up. She’s deeply irritating, but she reminds me of someone else slightly ridiculous. Someone I left behind.

Sasha’s the closest friend I’ve made since I arrived in London eleven months ago, but she doesn’t exactly take her studies seriously. Then again, she’s writing a dissertation on Victorian erotica, so her study materials are slightly more interesting than mine.

She lowers her hand. “So anyway, I got that disgusting pâté you like, and that stinky cheese, too!”

I frown to keep her from seeing my smile. Okay, that was really sweet of her.

Maybe I should go. It’s not like I’d have to stay long. Maybe I’d even meet someone.

But that thought makes me feel physically ill. I’ve been on a couple of dates since I got here—at Sasha’s insistence—and they went as well as I thought they would. Which was not at all.

“What are you gonna do on a Saturday night after exams are over, anyway?” Sasha pushes. “Hang out with Murray?”

I make a face. “Ugh!”

Murray’s our building manager. He’s in his thirties but with his preference for polyester and pallid complexion, he somehow seems older. He also always has his nose in everybody’s business, especially mine.

“I mean, I bet he’d love that,” she says, giggling. Sasha’s convinced he’s in love with me. She never fails to tease me about it. The sad part is, I actually considered going out with him when he once suggested it. That’s how desperate I was to forget Jude. But the thought of going through with it made me slightly ill, given how very, very far from attracted to him I was.

Maybe Sasha’s right though. Maybe a party is just what I need.

Sasha gasps, her eyes widening. “Hey! You’re chewing your pen! You’re thinking about it!”

I jerk my pen out of my mouth and clap it on the table. “I’m not!”

I chew on my pen whenever something’s troubling me. A complicated exam question. Christian forgetting to call me back when I check in.

Whenever I think of Jude.

Sasha claps, grinning like a madwoman.

“Shh!” The librarian glares at us once more. He’s reaching the end of his tether, I can tell.

I stand up and do a chin-point to the stacks off to our side. Sasha skips after me, letting out a whoop as she slips on a streak of water left by someone’s boots.

“You okay?” I ask, grabbing for her arm so she doesn’t fall. I don’t even tell her to be quiet this time, given she almost fell.

“Never better!” She grins. Then she hip-checks me, nearly knocking me over too.

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