Internet Famous Page 19

  She nodded.

  “Well, it’s kind of like that. When people see me—even you, Madi—they all assume certain things. The good-looking guy. Nice but dumb,” he sneered. “Obsessed with appearance. But that’s not me at all! I want people to know who I am, and I don’t know how to do that sometimes.”

  “I like you for who you are,” she said. “I liked you even before I knew who you really were.”

  Laurent leaned down, halving the distance between them. “I know.”

  Madi rose on tiptoes. The kiss started out hesitantly, a mere brush of lips, but soon grew into more. She clung to him, thoughts and emotions burning the fuel of his kisses. An unexpected thought popped into her mind: This isn’t just a crush anymore.

  The thought was so terrifying Madi couldn’t breathe. Her heart thrummed in her ears. But Laurent’s kiss broke through her fear. Her fingers tightened in the soft cotton of his shirt as his mouth slanted over hers. With him tasting her, only one thought remained: More. His mouth moved to her cheek, and then her neck, nibbling her earlobe as he caught her against his chest. Panting, Madi fluttered her lashes open, her gaze rising to the destroyed building and the illustrations that filled it. If Laurent could find beauty in this, then perhaps there really was a chance for them.

  “Ah, minette,” Laurent whispered against the skin of her neck. “Je t’adore.” He moved back to her mouth, his hands sliding into her hair.

  As happened before, he was so adorably earnest Madi couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up from her chest.

  He looked up. “What?”

  Madi tried to answer, but she was giddy with the sound of Laurent’s voice. “N-nothing.” She giggled. “It’s great.”

  “No, really,” Laurent said, frowning. “You keep doing that.”

  “It’s nothing—I just…” Another gale of laughter overtook her.

  “But why are you laughing?”

  “It’s—it’s…” How could she explain what his French accent did to her, never mind the kissing, and the foolishly appropriate building with its graffitied murals? It was too perfect. He was too perfect! She doubled over, laughing harder, as the tears dripped down her cheeks.

  “It’s not you,” she gasped. “It’s me.” Laurent sighed and she rushed to explain. “No, really, it is! I can’t be serious and romantic. I really can’t! And you’re adorable, Laurent. You’re perfect, but I’m just a huge nerd—”

  “Not as big as I am.”

  “You sure?” Madi grinned, fighting for composure. “’Cause I’m the one with the blog, and all the followers, and the massive video project I’m not even sure how to put together.”

  Laurent pulled her forward. “Comics trump all.”

  “But MadLibs is way more popular.”

  He chuckled. “Mainstream counts against you.”

  “You think so?”

  “I know so.”

  “And how do you figure—”

  But before she could finish the question, he kissed her.

  *   *   *

  The rest of the day passed in a blur of video footage, coffee dates, and subway rides. Madi jotted notes and used them for the footage bites Laurent recorded of her in front of various NYC landmarks—both touristy and off the map. While they worked, they talked. Madi now knew he was the second youngest of four children, his parents had divorced when he was eight, and he spoke Spanish as well as English and French.

  “The Romance languages aren’t that different,” he said with a self-deprecating wave of his hand. “English, though, that’s a hard one to master.”

  “I think you speak English beautifully.”

  “When I’m not flustered.” He reached out with his forefinger, drawing a line down the side of her face and winking. “And if I have the right inspiration to talk.”

  Madi giggled and looked away. “Well, I’m glad you did.”

  “Me, too.”

  Dinner was a smorgasbord of street-vendor cuisine. Aromas mingled like incense: the sharp edge of cinnamon on top of bacon’s heady palate, citrus scents interspersing the homey warmth of bread dough and tang of sauerkraut. Faint hints of car exhaust added to the sensory overload. Laurent seemed to know every vendor by name, and several appeared to know about Madi, too.

  “You’re the girl who blogs about movies and stuff,” said the man at the bagel cart. “I heard about you.”

  Madi reached out to take the bagel from his waiting tongs. “Books, too, sometimes.”

  “Laurent tells me you’re gonna be a writer someday.”

  “Something like that.”

  “You gonna sign a book for me when you do?”

  “If it happens.”

  The man slapped his side. “There ain’t no if about it. You’ve got to go after what you want.” He nodded to the bagel in Madi’s hands. “Now eat that up, miss, before it gets cold.”

  Madi took a bite, letting out a moan of pleasure. “Mmph,” she said through the mouthful. “Delicious!” And Laurent and Madi continued on their way.

  Sunset was spent at the train yard. (Though Madi missed the actual shift of colors as day turned into twilight, too focused on Laurent’s kisses.) She didn’t think anything could surpass the burned-out building, but the backdrop of the trains was one of her favorite shots Laurent had taken. He had an eye for composition. Even Madi had to admit that she looked good on film when he was behind the camera.

  When it grew too dark to film, she thought they’d leave, but Laurent had brought sparklers with him, and he took photos as they made wishes in the dark. Then there was a brief moment of panic when Madi discovered how much easier it was to get in than out. (In the end, Laurent climbed back over the fence to her side, and Madi clambered clumsily up his back, then crawled over the other side.)

  “You get to play the hero this time,” she said as he jumped down beside her.

  “Only fair after you saved me from the attack of the wild squirrel.”

  “True.” Madi giggled. “And thanks for getting me out of there. I don’t know how I’d explain that to my dad.”

  “For you, Madi? I’d break you out of worse,” he said as he pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Where next?”

  She pulled up the list of notes on her phone, chewing her lower lip as she read through them. “I think I’ve got most of the scenes I need for the vlog. You ready to head back?” She smiled. “We can hang out at my aunt’s place for a while, if you’d like?”

  “Yeah. That sounds good.”

  As they walked, they fell to talking again. Madi had a million questions for Laurent.

  “So what’s on your bucket list?” she asked.

  “Bucket list?” Laurent reached for his phone, but Madi stopped him.

  “Like a list of things you want to do someday.” She laughed.

  “I’ve got a few things in the works.”

  “You do?”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “I’ve been putting money away. Saving so I could come back to New York.”

  “But I thought you were planning on college in Paris.”

  “I am, but maybe someday down the road I might come back for a visit.”

  “That’d be really cool,” Madi said, smiling even though it hurt the center of her chest. She wouldn’t allow herself to think of that could-have-been future. It hurt too much.

  “So, what else? What crazy bucket-list items are you working on?”

  “I don’t know. Real life, I guess. Planning my future adventures.”

  For a second, it was on the tip of Madi’s tongue to ask, Am I in them? but she grinned and looked away. As much as it might feel like it, her life wasn’t a romantic comedy, and she had no doubt Laurent’s plans included some marquee poster–type adventure with a Parisian coed, while hers included attending the BMCC campus of CUNY so she could still take the train back in time to pick Sarah up after school.

  After a day of traveling to all parts of New York City—taking the subway to each of the five boroughs—they took the
subway back to Brooklyn, where Madi’s aunt Lisa lived with her girlfriend, Rita. They hung out in the too-small kitchen until Laurent finally decided it was time to go.

  “Let us know if you need privacy,” Lisa called from the other room. “We can go out, you know. We were young once, too.”

  But Madi was too embarrassed to take them up on the offer, so she escorted Laurent out to the hallway.

  He brushed her hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “Lisa and Rita are nice.”

  “They are. Mind you, I kind of have to say that since I’m crashing here.”

  Laurent smiled but didn’t laugh. “When do you have to be at the station tomorrow?”

  “Early. Train leaves at eight.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “You don’t have to do that, Laurent. It’ll be a waste of time.”

  He slid his hands up her arms to her shoulders as his gaze drifted longingly over her face. Madi shivered.

  “When are you going to start believing me?” he asked.

  “A-about what?”

  He leaned closer. “That you are worth my time,” he murmured against her mouth.

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  He kissed her rather than answering, his hands moving down her back to the pockets of her jeans, and then lower still. Madi squeaked as he lifted her up, pinning her between him and the wall. Suddenly, they were eye to eye. Laurent looked up, panting.

  “This okay with you?” he asked. “My back was starting to ache from leaning over so much.”

  Madi glanced behind him. The hallway was empty, and if she held his shoulders, she was more than comfortable.

  “Yeah, it’s good.” She pulled him closer. “Kiss me again.”

  He let out a quiet groan the second before he caught her lips in his. There were no other thoughts, no worries about leaving, just this perfect moment spinning out between them. Laurent’s mouth warm against hers. The city around them. The future—their future—a page waiting to be written.

  When the kiss ended, he let her slide slowly down to her feet. Madi wobbled, breathless as he brushed his fingers along her cheek.

  “Madi, mon ange, je t’aime … je t’aime … je t’aime à la folie.”

  Madi began to giggle. “Oh God, I can’t…” Her laughter grew louder. “Sorry! I just … I can’t be serious.”

  Laurent grinned and stepped back. “A demain.”

  “What did you just say?”

  Laurent winked. “Until tomorrow.” And then he sprinted down the stairs before she could ask what else.

  *   *   *

  It felt like only minutes later Madi was back at Penn Station, waiting to board the train back to Millburn. She threw her arms around Laurent one last time, breathing in the mulled scents of clothes detergent and shampoo, his faint cologne—as familiar as his accent—and under all those other layers, the faint odor of young, unwashed male.

  She sighed happily. “Yesterday was a really good day.”

  “It was.”

  With a final kiss—and a few more French endearments on Laurent’s part, which left her grinning—she let go, heading to the train. As before, Laurent waited until she was out of sight before he walked away. When Madi’s phone buzzed, she knew it would be him.

  i miss you, madi.

  Madi’s forehead crumpled as the weight of her departure sank in.

  me too

  Laurent’s answer appeared seconds later.

  i want to relive yesterday. i want to go back again and again and again. every kiss. every moment. je t’adore

  Madi had held it together all the way to the station. She’d reveled in their last moments together. The last perfect kiss. Suddenly, the floodgate opened.

  great. now i’m ugly crying

  you could never be ugly. your heart is too perfect. you shine.

  i miss you

  miss you, too, madi

  By the time the train reached the outskirts of Millburn, Madi’s tears had dried, but the ache had grown into a solid weight in her chest. She stared out the window, wondering at the feeling of leaving Laurent behind. They were too far away to have a real relationship. Even if they met every other weekend, and spent all their time on trains back and forth to New York, he’d be returning to France in less than a month. Long-distance friendships worked, but the pain of leaving Laurent behind would make a relationship torturous.

  She was in love with someone she could never be with.

  Madi’s phone buzzed one more time as the train reached the Millburn station. She looked down at the screen, her breath hitching.

  “Oh, Laurent,” she whispered as the tears started anew.

  *   *   *

  School had always been relatively easy for Madi—she loved to read, and that translated well in academia—but as June ticked by with the persistence of a time bomb, she found herself scrambling. There simply weren’t enough hours in the day to study, never mind eat, sleep, pick up Sarah from school, and edit video. She was near the breaking point as she took her last final.

  Shell-shocked, she stumbled out of the gymnasium at the end of the day.

  The exit door swung open in her hand, the sun momentarily blinded her, and she slammed bodily into another student coming the other direction.

  “Watch it!” an angry voice snapped.

  “Sorry, I—”

  “Fuck! It’s you again.”

  Madi squinted at the person who stood before her, blocking her way. He was a black paper cutout, devoid of features.

  “Why don’t you watch where you’re going?” he yelled.

  “Why don’t you?!” Madi stepped sideways, shielding her eyes. The shadow grew features as her eyes adjusted to the light: shaggy black hair, narrow lips, and an angry mouth.

  “Do you even go here?” he snarled. “Or do you just hang out trying to look cool?”

  “I—I don’t…” Her words faded as she suddenly realized why she knew him. It was the emo kid who’d glared at her the day Sarah had studied at the library. Robbie’s friend, Gavin. She thought she’d seen him at the café in New York, too.

  “You’re Gavin.”

  “And you’re in my way!” he grunted, pushing past her. “Move!”

  The door slammed shut behind him.

  Shaken, she turned back around. The sun was dazzling, and she squinted as she searched for Sarah, who’d been working in the library. She wobbled down the steps, so distracted she almost walked past her sister.

  Sarah waited in the shadows, Robbie at her side.

  “Hey, Madi,” he said, beaming at her. “How’ve you been?”

  “Busy,” she said, wishing that Sarah was alone. She didn’t feel like making small talk with her ex-classmates.

  “Haven’t seen you around in a while.”

  “Mmph.”

  “How did you do on the final?” Sarah asked with grim interest.

  “Fine, I think,” Madi said. “At least it’s over. Done is done, right?”

  “This your last exam?” Robbie asked.

  “Yeah. You?”

  “I’ve got one more test, but it’s not until next week.” He stepped too close, and Madi stepped back, almost falling off the curb. Robbie was attractive in a boy-next-door way, but compared to Laurent, he might as well have been invisible. “I can’t wait to be out of here.”

  Madi smirked. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for years.”

  “But what if you have to come back next semester?” Sarah blurted. Madi fought the urge to shout at her sister. If Robbie had personal-space issues, her sister had problems with sharing private information.

  “That’s not my fault,” Madi snapped. “Mrs. Preet is obsessed with rules. She hates anyone who doesn’t fit into her neat little box.”

  “Preet?” Robbie snorted. “She has it in for me, too. She practically dragged me to the office by my ear last week.”

  Madi’s brows rose. “She did?”

  “Yeah. I got
a text during my math exam.”

  Madi giggled.

  “If you had your phone on during the exam,” Sarah said grimly, “what did you expect her to do?”

  “I didn’t know I couldn’t!”

  “Better stay in her good books,” Madi warned.

  Robbie dropped his voice. “I heard she got transferred because she couldn’t get along with students at her last school.”

  “Get along? I bet she had kids chained in the boiler room.”

  “Apparently, some parents threatened to go to the board if she wasn’t transferred.”

  “God, I wish they had.”

  “Sure would make my life better.” Robbie chuckled. “I think she’s got a dartboard with my face on it.”

  “Then mine’s there, too.” Madi grinned. “I swear that woman lives for drama!”

  “Actually…” Robbie’s gaze skittered around the sun-drenched school yard. “My dad says her trouble with parents had to do with inflexibility. She refused to budge.”

  Madi rolled her eyes, remembering the dismissal of her entire project based on the MadLibs ads. “I can imagine! Mrs. Preet’s so fixated on rules, I bet she gives other people parking tickets if their meter runs out.”

  Robbie laughed, but Sarah scowled.

  “She’s the kind of person who keeps the plastic on their couch so ‘guests’”—Madi made air quotes—“don’t mess it up.”

  “She totally would!”

  “And I bet when Mrs. Preet walks those ugly little poodles of hers, she—”

  “Madi,” Sarah interrupted.

  “—makes them wear booties so they don’t bring dirt into her immaculately clean—”

  “Madi!”

  “—living room, or leave a pee stain on the—”

  “MADI!”

  “What?!” she snapped. But her sister wasn’t looking at her, she was looking over her head.

  “There’s someone coming to see you.”

  Across from her, Robbie’s face went so pale his freckles looked like they’d been drawn in pen. Madi slowly turned around.

  “Miss Nakama,” a cool voice said. “A word with you.”

  Robbie scuttled out of sight just as Mrs. Preet broke through the crowd. From the depths of her embarrassment, Madi wondered how the situation could get worse. (Life seemed to revel in demonstrating that.)