Chapter 6

Chloë helped Adam collect his scattered papers and stuff them into his bag which he flung over his shoulder. Chloë held her books against her chest, even though she too had a bag over her shoulder. It was as if she was using them as a shield against the world that was causing her so much pain. As they passed other occupied booths on their way out of the library, Adam noticed that the conversations within them seemed to stop. They passed a couple on the stairs between the first and ground floors. He felt their eyes follow him and Chloë and heard one whisper to the other, “Hey, that’s her. Who do you reckon that was with her?”

Across the library foyer, out the door and down the steps and through the campus. He felt as if everyone was staring at him. But he knew that no one was staring at him—they were gawking at the film star walking by his side. Maybe they wondered who he was, just like the couple on the stairs did, but that was only because he was with her. Had he been on his own, no-one would have given him a second glance. But that wasn’t the case for Chloë. She was the one everyone wanted to see. She was the one everyone stared at. He wished people would stop whispering, it was driving him crazy. Did they think he couldn’t hear them? That he wouldn’t notice? He glanced at Chloë. She looked as uncomfortable as he felt. As if someone had flicked a switch somewhere within him, he suddenly realised what the past few weeks must have been like for her.

“Come on,” he whispered. “Let’s hurry up.” He lengthened his stride and quickened his pace. She kept step with him and they soon arrived at his apartment. He let them in and led Chloë to the kitchen. Thankfully, his flatmates weren’t around.

“Take a seat and I’ll put the kettle on.”

Chloë sat at the kitchen table while he filled he kettle and got mugs out of the cupboard. “Is it always like that?”

“Like what?”

“All the staring and whispering.”

She half-smiled. “You get used to it.”

“You shouldn’t have to.” He finished making the drinks and handed her a steaming mug.

“This is a university-owned flat, isn’t it?” she asked.

“Yep.”

“It’s really nice. I expected the halls of residence to be dirty and smelly, but this is lovely.”

“It’s fairly new. I was lucky to get a place here. The older halls are as dirty and smelly as you’d expect.”

“I wanted to stay on campus, but they wouldn’t let me.”

“Who wouldn’t?”

“The university. They said they couldn’t take responsibility for my safety. Or wouldn’t.”

“That seems odd. I’d have said you’d have been safer staying on campus than anywhere else.”

“I think what they actually meant is that they didn’t want crowds of fans outside making so much noise that they kept everyone else awake.”

Adam raised his eyebrows. “Does that happen a lot?”

She shook her head. “Never. But who knows what the powers-that-be think. They were initially reluctant even to let me come here. They suggested I’d be happier in London. But I didn’t want to go to London. I wanted to go to a smaller town. I did some filming here in Westmouth last summer and thought it was perfect. A coastal town, far from the bright lights, but still quite cosmopolitan. I figured I could come here and be a normal student—like everyone else. Fat chance, huh?”