getting a glimpse of them, she’ll spend all her time Royal watching.
“I just want to see if there’s a baby bump,” she says.
I drop the mug I’m holding. It falls to the tiled floor and breaks into a dozen pieces. “What?”
“Darling, let me help you.” Poppy circles to help me pick up the pieces. “I was just saying I wanted to see the royal baby bump myself. All the tabloids are speculating that she’s pregnant and since her accident... It’s the Brit in me. I can’t help it.”
“Sorry.” I press a hand to my forehead. “I think I have a migraine starting.”
“Why don’t you sit down?” Cyrus suggests. “We can clean this up.”
This earns him a blinding smile from Poppy. If she was smitten with him when I left Valmont, there’s no doubt that she’s head over heels for him now. I suspected as much when she called to say she was taking him to visit her London family.
“Thanks,” I say, feeling dumb and hoping they buy my excuse.
“It’s all this time in the city,” Poppy says, continuing to make the tea. “That’s why you’re coming with us to the country this weekend.”
“I’m what?” I stare at her.
“Don’t even try to say no,” Cyrus advises me. He stands up and looks around for the garbage can. “She hatched this plan during our flight, and I can promise you that she’s not going to let you get out of it.”
“I have class,” I lie.
“Not on the weekend,” she says. “We’re just going down during the spring bank holiday. You won’t have class then.”
She’s right. I wouldn’t, and if I was attending classes, I would know about this bank holiday. But since I haven’t been and since I’m not British I had no idea that I needed an excuse until now.
“You two should go. It will be more romantic,” I say, grasping for one on the spot.
“We’ll have plenty of time for that during our trip,” Cyrus says, coiling his arms around her waist. Poppy tilts her head, black curls swinging around her shoulder, so she can kiss him.
I turn away, jealousy twisting inside me. I’m happy for my best friend but seeing them together only reminds me of how alone I am. My stomach flutters as I remember that I’m not alone. Not anymore.
Not ever again.
Poppy watches me, her eyes dark, and pulls gently away from Cyrus, shooting him a look.
“I promise we won’t be all lovey-dovey the whole time.”
“It’s fine.” I wave it off, hoping that I sound convincing.
“The truth is that he’s right. I get him all the time,” she says. “I want you. I can’t believe you’re going to stay here all summer. I have half a mind to stay here all summer with you.”
“No!” It bursts out of me before I can swallow it back. “I mean, I’m so busy with this program. You’d never see me anyway. No need to waste your summer here.”
“A summer in London is hardly a hardship,” she says with a laugh, pushing a mug in my direction. “But Cyrus does want to go to the Mediterranean.”
“You just have to decide if you want the French Riviera or the Italian Riviera,” he says.
The two begin planning the rest of their romantic summer plans, and I blow steam off the top of my mug. The minty aroma of the tea leaves hits me, and my stomach clenches. I swallow, trying to keep down my breakfast.
Poppy pauses her itemized list of travel desires. “Are you okay, darling?”
“Headache,” I lie through gritted teeth. “I’ll be right back.”
I don’t dare try to say more. Opening my mouth feels particularly dangerous as my stomach roils. I walk as calmly as I can into the hall, but the moment I’m out of sight, I run for the bathroom. Throwing on the water tap, so they can’t hear me, I only just make it to the toilet.
There’s no way I’m going to pull this off. Not if morning sickness keeps hitting me out of the blue. I have no idea why they call it morning sickness anyway. It doesn’t care what time of day it is as far as I can tell. If I’m conscious, it shows up whenever it feels like. Usually, my mint tea keeps it under wraps in the afternoon. Today, it set it off. Apparently, it’s evolving—just what I need.
I take a few minutes to clean up. A quick glance in the mirror shows that I’m even paler than usual. That’s saying something. I have