All These Things I've Done (Birthright #1)(50)

Scarlet made her way to the dance floor. It was a fast song, and she danced with considerably more skill than her partner. I was glad the dance hadn’t been a total bust for her. Behind Scarlet, I spied Win dancing with Alison Wheeler. She was wearing a knee-length white dress that really complemented her skin tone and her hair. She looked elegant and very grown-up. Win had taken off his tie and rolled up his sleeves, and I guess he must have been a bit hot from performing, because his short hair was curled into ringlets around his ears in a way I had never seen before. I don’t know why, but I found those ringlets to be ridiculously sweet and irresistible.

As I was on the verge of a useless bout of self-pity, I decided to go over to the buffet table to get a tumbler of fruit punch.

A different song came on at some point, a slower one, and that was when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

‘Miss Balanchine,’ Win said.

I turned around. His eyes were bright and almost sheepish.

For some reason, having heard his music made me feel awkward around him. ‘I’m glad you came over. I really liked . . . You play well.’ Not my most eloquent moment, to say the least.

‘Dance with me,’ Win said. ‘I know I’m probably making a fool of myself. You’re probably thinking, how many times do I have to reject this guy? Can’t he take a hint?’

I shook my head.

‘But somehow I don’t even care. I see you in your red dress, standing by the punch table, and something in me wants to keep trying. I think, she is a person worth knowing.’

‘You’re here with someone else,’ I pointed out.

‘Alison? Alison’s a friend,’ he said. ‘My parents have known her parents for years. I’m doing her a favour. Her dad doesn’t like her boyfriend so I’m keeping them off his trail.’

‘That’s not how it looked to me,’ I said.

‘Come on,’ Win said. ‘Dance with me. There’s only half a song left. What harm can it do?’

‘No,’ I said, and then because I didn’t want him to think badly of me, I added, ‘I wish I could, but I can’t.’

I walked out of the gymnasium and into the hallway to get my coat. Scarlet would have to find her way home without me. Win followed me.

‘What does that mean?’ he asked. ‘I don’t understand you.’

I couldn’t get my arm in my left sleeve for some reason. ‘Here,’ he said, ‘let me help.’ He leaned across my body and guided my arm into the sleeve.

‘I don’t want your help,’ I said, but it was too late. I felt somehow outside my body. I knew no good would come of it, but I rose up and kissed him on the mouth.

His lips were sweet and salty. It took a second for them to respond to mine. But dear God, when they did!

‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I shouldn’t have done that.’

‘That’s a terrible thing to say,’ Win said.

And then I ran out the front doors of the school and into the brisk November air.

The weird thing was, I had meant to run out by myself, but somehow I had grabbed Win’s hand.

We ended up back at my apartment.

We kissed for a while in the living room, and if I’m honest (God forgive me!), I wouldn’t have minded if it had gone further. But I wasn’t that kind of girl and, thankfully, Win wasn’t that kind of boy either.

We stayed up all night talking about nothing in particular.

And then the sun came up, and because I liked him as much as I did, I knew I had to talk about something very particular with him: i.e. his father.

‘I like you,’ I said.

‘Good,’ he said.

‘I want to tell you a story,’ I said.

He said he liked stories, and I replied maybe not this one. And then I told him about the day I met his father.

Win’s eyes narrowed and their colour seemed to change from a clear blue sky to twilight just before a hurricane. ‘I don’t give a damn what he thinks or says, Anya,’ Win said.

But I doubted that was true. ‘I care what he thinks,’ I said. ‘I have to.’ I explained how I didn’t want any heat brought down on my family. Unlike Scarlet, Win didn’t say I was being ridiculous for thinking that was a possibility. ‘So that’s why we can’t be together.’

Win considered this. ‘I’m really sorry he said that to you, but screw my father. Seriously, screw him,’ he said. ‘What I do is none of his business.’

‘But it is, Win. I see his point.’

Win kissed me then, and for the moment at least I stopped seeing Charles Delacroix’s point.

It was nearly 7.30 a.m. Still clad in her pyjamas, Natty emerged from her bedroom. ‘How was the dance, Annie?’ Then she noticed Win. ‘Oh!’

‘Hi,’ he said.

‘He was just leaving,’ I said.

Win stood, and I pushed him out of the door and to the elevator.

‘Let’s go see my father right now,’ Win said in a tone that I couldn’t quite identify as serious or joking.

‘And tell him what?’

‘That our love is too strong for him to suppress it!’

‘I don’t love you yet, Win,’ I told him.

‘Ah, but you will.’

‘I have a better idea,’ I said. ‘Let’s keep this a secret until we know if it’s serious. Why sound the alarms if we don’t even end up liking each other all that much anyway?’