How I Fell in Love (#3 How I Fell in Love Trilogy)

Keefe's POV

Just a fun peek at Keefe's life in London :) Enjoy!

I just couldn't do it anymore. I immediately felt bad for hanging up on her, and the glimpse I had of her brown eyes filling with worry deepened my regret. I shook my head, blonde hair drooping with my spirit. 

It just made me so jealous 

to know 

Fitz was caring for her 

the way I should. 

Fitz. His name rolled around in my head. He wasn't technically betraying me, but it felt like it. I shouldn't blame him though. It takes two. 

Sophie must love him, to be giving him another chance. That's what I love about her; she's so kind. And if she's happiest with him... I can't take away her happiness. 

I open my phone's gallery to lose myself in the past. There's the picture with Sophie glaring at the camera after detention, and the one where she's smiling after getting her A+ test back. 

Ooh, my favorite! This one I got from Biana last year. It's a picture of me when I saved her hide in math class, after goading the teacher into making me do a problem instead of her. Sophie's making a wide eyed look at the camera, while I'm in the background at the board scribbling nonsense. I guess this is my favorite because it really shows off the gold flecks in her eyes. And of course her cute expression of concern. 

I miss her. 

"Do you mind puttin' that light off? I'm bloody tired!" My roommate, Hugo, grumbled.

I turned off my phone. 

"About bloody time!" 

Good old Hugo. I'd tried to nickname him Hugomongous, but he hadn't liked that. He's a pretty big guy (hence the attempted nickname) so I had to drop it like a hot potato. In case he took to me like a punching bag. 

My other roomie, Oliver, was decent. He reminded me of Fitz, except he was obnoxiously "posh" and well mannered. He fit every stereo type of the well-groomed upper class boy except for his fondness of basketball. 

He had a mean pick up game. 

Maybe tomorrow I would call Sophie and apologize...

I fell asleep to dreams of bloody basketballs, posh Fitz clones, and Sophie's warm brown eyes.

                                                                                    *  *  *

I heard my phone ringing somewhere in the dorm. 

"Hey Oliver! Could you answer my phone for me?" I squinted at my hair. It needed just a little more gel to get that effortless flair. 

"It's a Facetime?" Oliver said uncertainly. 

"I'll be there in a few minutes." I knew he would answer, despite his doubts, because he was too polite to object.  

"I'll answer it." Oliver's voice faded. I glanced at Oliver's silver wristwatch he'd left in the bathroom. It was 8:00 a.m. here, so it must be around 4:00 p.m. for whoever was trying to contact me. Assuming it was someone from home. 

After putting a few finishing touches on my hair, I stepped out of the bathroom and spied Oliver perched on his bed, chatting with someone on my phone.  

"No, no, I don't drink tea from a teacup." Oliver laughed. "Only from a mug. It drives my mum crazy that I don't like it served in a teacup. She's super traditional."