Whatever It Takes (Bad Reputation Duet #1)(33)

To me, it just looks like pity.

Lily knows I’m alone here in the city. My family might live in Philly, but I don’t go see them unless it’s a holiday and I’m coerced into it. I have no friends. All that’s keeping me going is work. I should take her offer, but I don’t want to get close to Lily and Loren or any of Willow’s family.

I don’t know how long our relationship is going to last. And if she breaks up with me, if this all ends, they’ll choose her. Like they should. And I don’t want to spend time with Lily and Loren just to lose them in the end.

I won’t.

I can’t.

“I have plans,” I lie to Lily. “But thanks.”

Without another glance back, I zip up my jacket and leave.





10 PRESENT DAY - October


London, England





WILLOW HALE

Age 20





“Why are you taking photos of the chips, Willow?” Sheetal sips a beer and eyes my cell curiously. It hovers over a bowl of chips—or fries as I call them. Barnaby’s has great pub food, and it’s imperative that I send in my rating to Daisy.

“I promised my friend I’d document the food in London,” I explain. “And rate it.”

Tess smiles and plucks a fry from the basket. “I’d give these fries a solid two out of five. Needs more salt.” She bites into it.

Sheetal reaches for the salt shaker. “You mean, chips.”

Tess sticks out her tongue playfully. Sheetal tosses a fry at her, and Tess laughs. Not long after, Sheetal asks, “You need another bevvie?” She eyes her girlfriend’s depleting beer.

“Not yet, babe,” Tess says, smiling into a bite of fry.

They’re an adorable couple, and I’m grateful that they keep asking me to hang out. Even tonight, they could have left after we finished the assignment for our ad, but instead they both ordered a pint.

In my experience, most people don’t love the company of quiet people like me. We don’t bring enough to the conversation. We take up space at your table when you could have someone louder and more outwardly fun. And maybe that’s just my insecurity because Sheetal and Tess don’t make me feel like an intruder. They actively want me here, even if I’m quiet.

Someone bumps into our high-top table, and with my free hand, I reach for the pitcher of beer before it spills.

“Sorry,” the guy mumbles before stumbling over to the bar. Barnaby’s is crowded, college students filled to the brim. We’re lucky we arrived early and snagged one of the high-top tables.

I return to my phone. “So the chips are definitely five out of five.” I text Daisy my review: Delicious. Pub food at its finest. My picture kind of sucks though. It’s all grainy and the dim lighting doesn’t do the chips any favors.

She quickly texts me back.

Daisy: They look superb! Wish you could mail them to me!!





Me too.

“Five out of five?” Tess snorts. “I’m going to need to taste test a few more to see what’s up.” She digs her hand back into the basket.

I pick up my beer stein and take a small sip, the top mostly foam. It’s so strange being in a pub with students as young as eighteen, all legally drinking. “I can’t believe I’m twenty and drinking in a bar,” I say my thoughts out loud.

“I know, right?” Tess nods. “America needs to get with the program and lower the drinking age.” She frowns. “Also, I’m just now realizing that by living here, my twenty-first birthday isn’t going to be as epic.”

“London has saved you from drinking the night away, getting bladdered, and smelling like a vomitorium,” Sheetal notes. “You’re welcome.”

“Bladdered?” I ask.

“Piss drunk,” Sheetal defines.

Tess grins and clinks her glass to Sheetal’s.

It’s another moment I wish Garrison were here. I don’t feel like a third wheel or anything, but I want my new friends to meet him. He’s so much a part of my life that it feels like I’m hiding something or omitting this essential thing.

I glance towards the bar. Salvatore leans a hip against it, bodies packed between him, but he’s focused on a brunette with skin as pale as mine, wavy brown hair, and a deep blue velvet minidress.

“Speaking of ages,” Sheetal says, capturing my attention. “I’ve been thinking about our little group.” She waves around the table, but her eyes are on me. “Tess and I are nineteen. You and Salvatore are twenty. We’re all the oldest in the class since we started Wakefield late, and I could see Professor Flynn grouping us off on purpose.”

Tess nods. “It’d make sense, right? Our families are all well off, too.”

I remember something. “He grouped all the Aussies together.”

Sheetal lets out a breath. “Well, that probably confirms the theory. He’s giving every group an advantage. Like a commonality somewhere. Being a fresher is hard enough, maybe the fella wants to ease some of the stresses on our first year.”

“He is my nicest prof,” I say.

“Mine, too,” Tess agrees.

The music in the pub changes to a popular Arctic Monkeys song as I sip my beer. The liquid goes down bitter. Garrison loves this band.