Spying one of the guys I share a couple classes with at the event, I wave at Jean-Paul when I see him hanging around by himself. He kinda reminds me of Callan—awkward in social situations.
He does that French thing where he kisses my cheek. But it’s five times. A custom, he told me, that’s traditional in Corsica, where he’s from.
“You okay, Denver?” he asks in heavily accented but perfect English. “You look pale.”
“I’ve been better.” I share a weak smile with him. “I really need a drink.”
“You won’t get one here then.” His tone’s teasing. “I know where they have something stronger…”
I roll my eyes. “The mini supermarket on the corner?”
He chortles at my joke, but as he makes to reply, my phone buzzes. Ignoring him, I glance at the screen and see it’s Zach, not Dad. I wince at the time, realizing this is when we hang out together on Wednesdays.
“Someone you don’t want to talk to?” JP asks me knowingly.
“Quite the opposite.” I answer the call and shoot Zach a wave.
“Hey, babe!”
He looks as tired as I feel. I get it. The time difference is killing us. Slowly.
I gesture at JP behind me. “Hi! I’m so sorry I forgot about our call. It’s been a day. This is JP. We have a couple classes together.”
“Where are you?” His brow furrows as he graces JP with a grim nod.
“Just a party. It’s an Erasmus program thing. Can we call later?”
“Sure.”
When he just hangs up, I blink. Then, I realize JP put his arm around my shoulders and I frown at him then shrug off his hold.
Both relieved and disappointed about the delay in my chat with Zach, one during which I hoped I could let spill the day’s events, I repeat, “I need a drink.”
FIFTY-SIX
LOML
AN HOUR LATER
Denny: You good to talk, babe? I’m back at my place. You don’t have commercial law for another couple hours, right?
Zach: We’ll talk tomorrow
Denny: Oh! You busy?
*Ten minutes later*
Denny: Zach?
Zach: Look, I can’t do this right now
Denny: Okay?
*Thirty minutes later*
Zach: I have this project I need to finish.
Denny: Can I help?
