My Summer in London (My Summer #1)(17)

Brighton? I wondered, thinking that I hadn’t been there. Well, there were a lot of places I hadn’t been yet, but one by one, hopefully before I left the country, I would have a chance to see them all. Who knew when I would be able to visit again? Surely not on a student budget; that was for damn sure.

The party was held in the three-story home of some artist, so the people filtering in and out of the place were a contrast of colors and hues. Most opted for black apparel with interesting hair colors from all over the color wheel. It certainly would be a night to remember.

British people expressed themselves in the most passionate of ways. I didn’t know how they had become known for being standoffish and reserved. One thing stood out, though, and that was their love of music. People here seemed to appreciate the retro jams, rock and roll, and everything in between. It was different than what I was used to, but I found it refreshing.

I wasn’t sure if that made much sense, but heck, I was young and buzzing with alcohol, so I did what everyone else was doing: dance, drink, converse, and dance some more.

Since Bobbie was basically engrossed with Jude, Nessa and I partied together. There were several men wanting to break us apart, but I wasn’t interested. When one guy took Nessa’s interest and left me all to my lonesome, I was relieved to see Bobbie sitting all by herself while watching her boyfriend do some Irish bomb contest. Seeking her company, I sat next to her, enjoying the craziness around me.

“Your boyfriend looks a breath away from passing out.” Jude did seem as though he couldn’t go for another round. His eyes were barely cracked open as he sported a shit-eating grin.

Bobbie smirked. “Oh, that’s nothing new, my love. The party wouldn’t be smashing if he didn’t fall flat on his hairy arse.”

Jude had a hairy ass? Uh … GROSS! The image that flashed through my mind was too hard to shake off. f*uk.

Bobbie spat out the alcohol from her mouth, snorting as she laughed her heart out. “Your face! Bloody hell, that was priceless!”

Hairy and ass didn’t go together. I would have enjoyed laughing along with her, but I was too sober to do so.

“What time do you think we’ll be heading back? I’m in no rush, just want a time frame.” I still had classes and work tomorrow, none of which I intended to miss.

“I don’t think any of us are in condition to drive. We’ll probably crash here or sleep in the car more like. You know what I mean?”

“Yes, I do.” But I wasn’t prepared for that. I didn’t expect that coming out to party tonight meant that I wasn’t going home until whenever they felt like driving back. It wasn’t their fault. It was mine since I hadn’t asked for essential details when they invited me. Heck, I hadn’t even asked where it was located.

While Bobbie was preoccupied rehashing stories about Jude and getting inebriated in the past, I was trying to find a solution. Given the hour, flagging a cab or taking the train was out of the question. I had heard it didn’t resume until six a.m., so I basically had the choice of waiting it out for another five hours or tagging along with my school friends, none of which appealed to me, to say the least.

He did say I could call him if I needed something, and this was a moment of desperate need. It would have been different if there was a safe place to crash around here. However, it seemed that everyone was too busy meeting someone to hook up with and getting obliterated as quickly as possible instead of worrying about something as lame as having a decent place to sleep.

One of my biggest rules when partying was always to make sure I got home safely. I could get drunk as much as my heart desired, but I always had to sleep in my own bed.

With that in mind, I got up and went to the nearest corner that was packed with couples making out or trying to get to second base. Ignoring the romantic humdrum behind me, I pulled my phone out of my purse.

“Serena!” Nessa hollered at me from a few feet away. “Dance with me. I need a partner.”

“In a little bit. Let me just call someone really quickly, then I’ll be right with you, promise,” I pled, and she signaled a thumbs up then blew me a kiss.

Back to my dilemma, I took a lengthy breath. “Get over it, Serena. You’re being obnoxious. Stop it,” I muttered under my breath as I looked down at the handheld device.

With my phone in hand, I scrolled for Cruz’s name, feeling wretched for even considering this idea, yet I felt dizzy at the thought of hearing his voice after a week of no news from him. My withdrawals were real, but not severe. Even so, none of it was healthy.

Holding my breath as I pressed the call button, I was half hoping he would pick up and half hoping he would send the call to voicemail or still be out of the country. When I heard his voice on the other end of the phone, though, my heart skyrocketed into blissful oblivion.

“Yes?” His raspy, deep-timbered voice temporarily suspended me from reality. Then, as quickly as it came, I was reverted back to my senses.

Shaking my head, I wondered who answered a phone call with a yes. A normal person would usually say hello, not yes. It was arrogant and a bit entitled. Little bits like these made me nervous when it came to him. It only reminded me of the vast difference between us.

“Hey, it’s Serena,” I said meekly but loud enough for him to hear.

“Serena?” He didn’t sound pleased. “Why are you calling me at this ungodly hour?”