Steering the Stars (13 page)

     
 
He tilted his head back so that his mouth was at my ear. I felt the vibration from his breath slide down my spine. “Technically.”

     
 
“I’m—uh—not eighteen.”

       “I said it was technically eighteen, but as long as you’re out of diapers, no one at this place is going to question you.”

       “You’re sure?”

       “I’m sure. But, don’t worry—I’ll get you a water just in case you don’t like the beer.”

       “It’s not like I’ve never had a beer before,” I asserted. And this was true. Mostly. “I’ve been to plenty of parties.”

       “Noted.” Joel laughed as he stopped at the bar and asked for two Fuller’s ESBs, a glass of water, and a sausage platter. I expected a stare down and questions about my age, but the harassed-looking bartender just passed over the beers and water and told us someone would find us when the sausages were ready.

       “A sausage platter?” I asked Joel as we slipped into a shadowy booth.

       His smile was triumphant. “You said go big or go home.”

       I tapped one finger against the lacquered surface of the wooden table. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

        He grinned and leaned in. I could feel his knees brush against mine beneath the table. “Just trust me, Hannah.”

     
 “
Trust is an awful lot to ask from a virtual stranger.”

       His yellow-green eyes skimmed my face
.“
Especially since you’ve already proven that you’ll resort to physical violence.”

       I winced. “I probably deserved that.”

     
 “
Nah, I just like to see you squirm.” He handed me one of the beers. “So, your sister? Is she your father’s daughter or your mom’s?”

      
 “
Felicity and I have the same dad,” I told him, wrapping my fingers around the mug and watching white beery foam slosh over the side. “She’s thirteen years older than me and is married with two kids.”

        “That’s cool.” He nodded. “And you mentioned your best friend?”

       “Yeah,” I answered. “At home I’ve got Caroline. We’ve been friends since we were in preschool so she’s pretty much like a sister.”

       Joel looked down at the table and it was almost like he was deciding something. “And…” His head came up and his eyes met mine. The air between us quivered with something warm and electric. “And what?” I asked, my stomach cramping with anticipation.

       “A boyfriend? Do you have one?”

       My heart skipped and all the air whooshed out of my lungs at once.

       “Hannah?” He kept looking at me.

       “N-no.”

       His dark eyebrows went up. “No?”

       “Not really,” I amended in a rattly voice.

       “Not really,” Joel repeated as he sunk back into the booth, his eyes still locked on mine.

       Back at the library I could pretend that Joel Sinclair had asked me out because he was bored or just hungry. I could tell myself I’d said yes because I was curious.

        But now I knew that was all a cover-up.

       Joel liked me. He’d revealed it with one question. And the way my pulse was going off like a kick drum revealed something else.

       I liked him back.

       Maybe I should have been freaked out by this or maybe I should have felt regret. But, looking at Joel and thinking about him like
that,
left me… exhilarated.  

       “I did have a boyfriend,” I told him. “But he didn’t want me to come to London and I think… I think we broke up.”

       Both eyebrows arched again. “You
think
you broke up?”

       “We left on bad terms and I haven’t talked to Owen since I got here,” I said in a firmer voice. “So, no, I don’t have a boyfriend. Not anymore.”

       There. I said it out loud for the first time.

       “And Ruben?”

       I flinched. “What about Ruben?”

       “I see you guys at school and at practice…”

       “No,” I said, understanding his meaning. “He and Tillie have been great to me, but we’re friends and that’s all.”

       Joel stared at me for a long time—so long that I started to feel a blush moving over my entire body. Had I said something wrong? Had I made things weird?

       Just as I was about to take the whole thing back or awkwardly change the conversation, Joel tapped his fingers against the table once and said, “Good.”

       “Good?”

       He looked down and back at me. “Well, yeah—I mean… good.”

       “What about you?” I asked, carefully. “Is there a girlfriend I should know about?”

       He smiled a little “Do you think I would have asked you to dinner if there were?”

       I shrugged. “You might have.”

       “I’m not like that, Hannah.”

       I smiled. “Good.”

       “Good.” He smiled back.

       In the midst of all this cheesy smiling, a waiter stopped by the table and dropped off a plate steaming with lumps of seared brown meat.

       “I told you it was fast,” Joel said as he unrolled the silverware from his napkin.

       “You weren’t kidding,” I said, taking in the massive platter of sausages, “And, you weren’t kidding about the sausages.”

       “I never kid around about food.”

       “Spoken like a true American.”

       He raised his glass to salute me before taking a gulp.

       I did the same. The beer was cold but not icy. It hit the back of my mouth and a bitter, faintly piney taste exploded off my tongue.

       I must have made a face because Joel chuckled and asked, “Not a fan of the beer?”

       “It’s not that I don’t like it...”

       “Really? Because you look like this.”

       I watched him make a face. “I look like a guinea pig having a seizure?”

       He laughed louder. “Yes, that’s exactly what you look like.”

       It was my turn to laugh. “I wasn’t expecting it to be so strong,” I admitted, taking another sip. The second time down, it wasn’t so bad.

       He nodded in understanding. “The beer here is no joke. Go ahead and try a sausage,” he suggested as he stretched out his arm and stabbed his fork into one of the links. He swallowed in one bite and gave a satisfied grunt. “You’ll love them.”

       I sifted around the platter until I found the smallest sausage. “We’ll see about that,” I said, eyeing it with skepticism.

        “Believe it. This right here is one of the best things about England.”

       I was too busy chewing to speak. Holy hell. Joel was right. The sausages were, as Caroline would say,
amazeballs.

        “Actually,” he continued. “Most of the food is great. People who tell you that the English don’t know how to cook have obviously never been here.”

       I swallowed. “Agree. Though I do miss bagels and cream cheese.”

       “I miss Chicago-style pizza,” he said after a second
.“
And real barbecue. You know—fatty, smoky and dripping in sauce.”

       “I know it sounds crazy,” I said on a sigh, “but I can’t stop thinking about peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”

       Joel leaned his upper body over the table. “It’s not crazy. I’ve had dreams before where I’m swimming through a sea of strawberry Pop-Tarts,” he confided. “That’s how much I miss them.”

     
 “
I miss soft pretzels.”

     
 “
Donuts,” he countered.

       “I didn’t even eat it that often at home, but here I keep craving macaroni and cheese.”

     
 “
Kraft?” Joel asked.

     
 
I nodded and took another sip of my beer. It no longer tasted like I was licking tree bark. It was actually pretty good. “Yes! Macaroni from a box with that neon orange powdery cheese.”

     
 “
The fruit of the gods.”

     
 
I laughed. “Or radioactive sludge. It’s a toss up.”

     
 “
You know what else I miss? Good Mexican food.”

     
 
This time, I ignored the beer and I picked up my lukewarm water and swirled it around the glass. “How about ice? I just don’t get it. Why is there no ice? It’s only frozen water so you wouldn’t think they would ration it out like they do.”

     
 
The corners of Joel’s mouth twitched. “Hannah, you’ve only been away from home for a couple of weeks. Forget ice. Just wait until Girl Scout cookie season hits. Then you’ll know what real suffering is.”

     
 
With a groan, I set down the glass and stabbed at a sausage with my fork. “I hadn’t even thought of Girl Scout cookies until you mentioned it so thanks for that. Tonight I’m sure I’ll dream about dancing Samoas and Tag-alongs.”

     
 
“I’m a Thin Mint guy myself.”

     
 
I laughed and wiped the grease from my fingers onto a paper napkin. “Hold on,” I said, pulling my phone out.

     
 
“What are you doing?” he asked.

     
 
“I’m resolving the Girl Scout cookie crisis,” I said slyly as I typed up an email to Caroline.

To: Caroline<
[email protected]
>

From: Hannah<
[email protected]
>

Date: September 9

Subject: Ohmigodohmigodohmigod

ARE YOU THERE? I have to talk to you. It’s an emergency!

____________

She must not have been busy because she responded right away.

To: Hannah<
[email protected]
>

From: Caroline<
[email protected]
>

Date: September 9

Subject: This is 9-1-1.

What’s your emergency?

____________

To: Caroline<
[email protected]
>
From: Hannah<
[email protected]
>
Date: September 9

Subject: Samoas… Tag-alongs… Thin Mints…

You get one guess.

____________

To: Hannah<
[email protected]
>

From: Caroline<
[email protected]
>

Date: September 9

Subject: Re: Samoas… Tag-alongs… Thin Mints...

You just realized you’re going to miss out on Girl Scout cookies? It’s okay. I got you covered. ;)

____________

       “Yay!” I exclaimed, stuffing my phone back into my bag.

       Joel’s eyebrows went up. “Crisis resolved?”

     
 
“Yes,” I told him. “My best friend is on it.”

     
 
He laughed. “Thank God for technology.”

     
 
“You know… if I’m being totally honest,” I said, picking up my beer and taking a sip. “I miss a lot more than the food.”

     
 “
Like?”

       “Don’t get me wrong—London is amazing. I haven’t see that much of it yet, but...”

       “It’s one of the greatest cities in the world.”

       “You sound like you’ve seen a lot of them.”

       Joel shrugged.

       “What’s your favorite city?” I asked.

       “I don’t know… Barcelona maybe? Prague? San Francisco is toward the top of my list. And, of course, there’s Rome and Paris.”

       “Of course,” I said sarcastically.

       “What?”

       “Nothing,” I said, looking down at my beer. Holy crap, it was almost gone. “You mention all those places like it’s no big deal.”

       “I didn’t mean to sound pretentious.”

       I shook my head. “You didn’t. It’s just… coming here is the biggest thing I’ve ever done.”