Ilani grinned just as Xander clapped his hands together. “Okay, so who’s up for a drink? My treat. You’ve all survived your first critique. You’ve lived to be critiqued another day.”

I checked the time. Class had gone long, and it was already nearing ten. But I didn’t want to miss out on the opportunity to get to know my classmates better.

“Got somewhere you’d rather be?” Ilani prompted.

“No. Just have to deal with some things back home.” Easton had left five messages and even called Sophie trying to get a hold of me. And considering he and Sophie didn’t get along, that was saying something. I would kill my mother for giving him a way to contact me. Next time I ran away from home, I wouldn’t be leaving a forwarding address or phone number. “But you know what? It can wait until tomorrow.”

Abbie…

An hour later, I smiled to myself as I watched the revelry around me. This was what I'd imagined when I'd wanted to come to school in London. Sitting in the pub with friends, my new classmates, having a Guinness. I couldn’t believe my life now. The mild pang through my heart jolted me. I wasn't going to think about it or the reason I was here. I’d just enjoy it.

Xander sauntered back to the table, carrying another pitcher for the small group. Ilani sat next to me, and Milo a lanky, blond Swede sat across from me, Andrew next to him. He was British like Ilani. Amy, the South African, had bounded over to the Karaoke stand and was picking out a song.

The five of us comprised the majority of the students who'd lived through Xander's critique that night with passable grades. I had a feeling that that was something rare enough to be celebrated.

When Xander sat, Ilani crowded him. Amy trod back to the table, looking disappointed. “They didn’t have that new Beyoncé song, so I’m not in the mood anymore.” Then she too, immediately sidled up to Xander.

I just shook my head. It was like they couldn’t really help themselves. He'd made it clear he wasn’t going to date a student, but still, they trotted out their wares, hoping for a bite. Amy insisted on dressing like a Kardashian with her too tight, too short, too cleavage-bearing clothes and pounds of makeup. I didn’t have a problem with the clothes. Hell, some of them were even cute. But for school and class, where they'd most likely be hunched over light tables and viewers, it made no sense. And then there was Ilani. My friend had a more subtle approach. She'd toned down the clothes, but her make-up was still expertly done, and I noted that she wore perfume. It made me want to laugh.