If We Ever Meet Again - Ana Huang Page 0,27
whispered. “She’ll be fine after some retail therapy.”
“Honey, that’s not ‘some.’ That’s a lot of retail therapy,” Olivia said as Kris dumped her haul into a nearby saleswoman’s arms so she could flick through a rack of Maison Margiela skirts. “Besides, I don’t think shopping will cut it this time. Her dad is getting married to someone five years older than her. That’s gotta sting.”
“I can hear you.” Kris yanked a skirt so hard off the hanger the delicate material ripped. Everyone gasped. The saleswoman looked like she was going to have a heart attack. “Calm down. I’ll pay for it.”
“Sweetie, slow down,” Farrah said gently. “We can’t carry all of this back to the dorm.”
“I’ll hire someone to carry it back. Don’t you know? Money can buy anything, including a 26-year-old redheaded bimbo who thinks she can take my mom’s place.” Kris’s lips trembled before she caught herself. She tossed her hair over her shoulder, her jaw set in defiance.
“Oh, honey.” Courtney’s eyes swam with sympathy. “It’ll be all right.”
“Maybe she isn’t so bad,” Olivia said. “Maybe she really loves your dad.”
“Please.” Kris sniffled. “He’s twice her age, and I love my dad, but he’s not George Clooney. The only thing she loves about him is his bank account.”
“Soo…the strategy is to drain it before they get married?” Farrah joked, trying to lighten the mood.
It didn’t work.
“Hilarious,” Kris said. “I can’t stop the wedding while I’m in Shanghai, but I can strategize. They’re not getting married until next November. In the meantime, I’m going to let Daddy know exactly how upset I am.”
“Oh, I think he knows,” Courtney said. “The entire girls’ hall heard you screaming yesterday.”
Farrah and Olivia nodded in affirmation.
“The only language my dad understands is money, and he has tons of it. What I spend today won’t even make a—” Kris stopped and held up a finger. “Wait.”
They waited.
“Court, your birthday is coming up.”
“Two weeks.” Courtney rubbed her hands in anticipation. “We’re going to rage. Gino’s and 808 will never be the same.”
“Forget Gino’s and 808.” Kris fished her black Amex out of her purse and handed it to the saleswoman, who snatched it up and hurried to the cashier without dropping any of the clothes items on the floor. “I’ve got something better in mind.”
What that something was, no one knew. Kris refused to tell them because she wanted it to be a “surprise.” All she said was not to schedule anything for the entirety of Courtney’s birthday weekend and to let the rest of the group know.
When they returned to the dorm, Kris hightailed it to her room with her purchases. Olivia, who’d made it to the interview round for the CB Lippmann internship, went to prep for her video call tomorrow, while Courtney had a Skype date with her family.
That left Farrah with the rest of the afternoon to herself. She’d finished her homework and didn’t feel like wrestling with YouTube or Netflix. Between her VPN and the dorm’s slow-as-a-snail WiFi, streaming video was a constant struggle.
She wandered down to the boys’ floor to find Sammy. He wasn’t there. Neither was Blake. Farrah wondered whether he was with the brunette she’d seen coming out of his room the other day. Her stomach twisted at the thought.
Were they dating? Where did they meet? If they were dating, Blake and Farrah’s dinner seemed quite intimate for a guy who had a girlfriend, no? Farrah could’ve sworn—
No. Stop it.
Farrah forced herself to stop thinking about Blake and ran through her other options for company. Luke and Leo lived in homestays, and she wasn’t desperate enough to seek out Nardo.
As a last resort, she checked the student lounge, which FEAers never used. Why would they, when they had a whole city to play in?
The quiet lounge carried the musty smell of a place that hasn’t been disturbed for a while. Farrah was about to leave when she noticed the person reading in the armchair in the corner. A faint sliver of sunlight illuminated Leo’s sculpted features.
“Dostoyevsky,” she said, making out the book cover from a distance. “Impressive.”
Leo’s head jerked up. His shoulders eased when he saw who it was. “You should work for the CIA. I didn’t hear you come in.”
“I’m guessing it’s less my spy skills and more the Crime and Punishment.” Farrah pulled up the chair opposite Leo. “Not a lot of college students spend their Saturday afternoons reading Russian literature.”
“They’re missing out. What’s more exciting than crime and punishment?”
Farrah’s mouth quirked up. “You have