Пятьдесят оттенков серого

           MiabeamsatKate,seatedoppositenexttoElliot,andtheystarttalkingaboutthestudentnewspaper.

           “Wine,Ana?”Mr.Greyasks.

           “Please.”Ismileathim.Mr.Greyrisestofilltherestoftheglasses.

           IpeekupatChristian,andheturnstolookatme,hisheadcockedtooneside.

           “What?”heasks.

           “Pleasedon’tbemadatme,”Iwhisper.

           “I’mnotmadatyou.”

           Istareathim.Hesighs.

           “Yes,Iammadatyou.”Hecloseshiseyesbriefly.

           “Palm-twitchinglymad?”Iasknervously.

           “Whatareyoutwowhisperingabout?”Kateinterjects.

           Iflush,andChristianglaresatherinabutt-out-of-this-Kavanaghkindofway.EvenKatewiltsunderhisstare.

           “JustaboutmytriptoGeorgia,”Isaysweetly,hopingtodiffusetheirmutualhostility.

           Katesmiles,awickedgleaminhereye.

           “HowwasJoséwhenyouwenttothebarwithhimonFriday?”

           Holyfuck,Kate.Iwidenmyeyesather.Whatisshedoing?Shewidenshereyesbackatme,andIrealizeshe’stryingtomakeChristianjealous.Howlittlesheknows.IthoughtI’dgotawaywiththis.

           “Hewasfine,”Imurmur.

           Christianleansover.

           “Palm-twitchinglymad,”hewhispers.“Especiallynow.”Histoneisquietanddeadly.

           Ohno.Isquirm.

           Gracereappearscarryingtwoplates,followedbyaprettyyoungwomanwithblondpigtails,dressedsmartlyinpaleblue,carryingatrayofplates.HereyesimmediatelyfindChristian’sintheroom.Sheblushesandgazesathimfromunderherlongmascara-coveredlashes.What?

           Somewhereinthehousethephonestartsringing.

           “Excuseme.”Mr.Greyrisesagainandexits.