Page 17 of When Hearts Collide

But I feel the heat of her gaze boring into me. A sensation so visceral it’s almost physical, and I crack the stiff joints in my neck, my hands clenching in my trouser pockets.

“Under the utilitarianism theory, what should InstaEats do in this case?” I turn back to the rest of the class and the thumping in my heart intensifies.

More. More. More. It clamors for more.

Chapter 7

Dear Mom,

I think he hates me and I don’t know why. But my eyes can’t help but look at him and the way he stares at me…it sets my body on fire. And sometimes, I sense admiration in his eyes. Why are we drawn to the forbidden? Sometimes, I wonder if I have a masochistic streak in me.

Love, Millie

“SO HOW'S LA? It’s been a while, right?” A pair of bright gray eyes reminding me of a certain brooding someone meet mine on the computer screen.

Munching sounds also filter through the speakers. Taylor Peyton, my best friend from home, is chewing on carrot sticks as we meet up for our weekly video chat.

“Yeah. It’s nice to be back here after so many years.”

I sit back in my chair, my body wrapped in a pink, fuzzy robe after a quick shower. My fingers fiddle with the half-done shoddy attempt at mittens and begin unraveling the yarn. How do those videos make them look so easy?

“What did I miss? Hey, Millie. We miss you already. Why are you taking your project apart?” an energetic voice says from the background.

A flurry of bright purple flashes across the screen and settles next to Taylor, who’s rolling her eyes at her sister and squinting at the ill-fitting sweater she has on.

“How do you have so much energy, Grace? You’ve been up since five this morning and it’s eleven at night now and you still act like a fucking Energizer Bunny.”

Grace grins and waggles her brows, her brilliant eyes, so blue they almost appear violet, flashing in humor. “I think I took all the energy between the two of us. And you definitely sleep enough for the two of us.”

“Your positivity is revolting,” Taylor spits back, but I can see the fondness in her eyes.

The two of them are Irish twins, with Grace being one year older than Taylor, and their personalities can’t be any more different. Grace is the positive, go-getter older sister and Taylor is the grumpy, “the sky is falling, and the apocalypse is around the corner” younger sister. They are the most loyal girls I’ve ever met and are my family outside of Adrian and Dad.

“Millie was saying it was nice to be in LA,” a new husky voice joins us and another monitor flickers on, showing the last of our quartet, Annabelle Law-McKenzie, known to her friends as Belle. “Sorry, I crept in there silently and didn’t want to interrupt your daily bickering.”

I snort and unwind the towel wrapped around my hair and shake out the wet strands. A deep warmth fills me. “I miss you girls a lot. While I’m glad to be back in LA after twelve years, it no longer feels like home. Home is where you guys are.”

A chorus of “awwws” echoes and Taylor scrunches her nose, her skull-shaped piercing glinting under the lamplight. She once said her body piercings are expressions of her art and her mood. I guess someone must’ve pissed her off today.

“You’re going to make me cry, woman,” she grunts. Grace laughs and shoves her gently.

I show them my knitting disaster. “And this project needs to be scrapped and restarted. This looks ridiculous.”

“You’re such a perfectionist, Millie. Those mittens look fine to me! Anyway, what did you do so far? How was your first day of class? Any cute guys? How’s Hollywood?” Grace rapidly fires her questions as she leans eagerly toward the camera.

“Oh God,” I mutter.

“What? I’m living vicariously through you. It’s not like I’ll be able to travel across the country for a vacation of my own.”

She grimaces before exchanging a solemn glance with her sister, who gives her a comforting pat on her shoulder. I gnaw on my bottom lip.

“Not for long, Grace. Once you graduate and kick ass in the finance world, you’ll be able to afford grand trips around the world and do everything you’ve always wanted to do,” Belle gently suggests, giving her best friend a wink.

The Peyton sisters have had a rough go in life. Their dad is a no-show and they live with their mom in a seedy part of Bronx. But Grace is smart and has a full ride to NYUC, where she met Belle a few years ago, and Taylor, likewise, has a full scholarship at her dance academy. I have a feeling their days of pinching pennies will end soon.

Grace waves Belle away, her face flushed, no doubt from the compliments. Taylor pops another carrot in her mouth, the crunching noise loud over the speakers.

She swallows and says, “And if Grace can’t hack it, we’ll always have you, Belle. When you guys have those fancy ass New York or Paris fashion shows, I’ll provide free labor in exchange for room and board.”

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