silently for a moment in the now very still air.
I didn’t know what had just happened. I wanted to cry all over again.
He put a hand on my shoulder when he saw the expression on my face. “It’s okay, you haven’t done anything.”
“I have to go to sleep. Thank you so much, Johnny.”
I stood and went back to my room. I got under my covers and tried to sleep. Before I knew it, hours had passed and I was still not asleep. Finally my desire to talk to Max outweighed my desire to try sleeping.
I ran to the boys’ dorm and then through it. I knew his room number. It had been a small, embarrassing fantasy of mine to sneak into his room for months.
He opened it after a few seconds. He was in shorts and no shirt. I collected myself and then said, “What’s wrong with you? Why were you so mad earlier?”
“I’m sorry about that. I shouldn’t have acted like that.”
“But why did you? I was just talking to him.”
He nodded. “Yeah. So was Becca.”
“What do you—what?”
He opened the door he stood in front of. “Come with me.
“Becca and Johnny were hooking up for … I guess most of my relationship with her.”
I practically did a double take. “What? Johnny?”
“Yeah. So that’s why he and I aren’t friends anymore.”
“Weren’t you two friends for a long time? I can’t believe he would just do that to you.”
“He wouldn’t usually. It was just Becca. Just how she was.”
I nodded. I was barely even aware of how cold it was outside.
“So when I saw you two,” he went on, “it just felt like déjà vu.”
“Well, I’m not … I don’t have any interest in Johnny at all. I hardly even know him.”
“You don’t have to say that. We’re not together.”
He may as well have slapped me. “I know.” My words were hard and restrained.
He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry about that. I really am.”
“I never said—”
“No, I know you didn’t. I’m sorry. I’m just …” He looked at me. “I like you. And I want to be with you. But I just can’t.”
“Max, I never said I wanted that. What makes you think you’re the one deciding you and I aren’t more than we are?”
He looked surprised, and that only made me madder.
“Seriously,” I went on, my voice rising a little. “When do you imagine I said anything about feelings for you?”
His face fell a little but I had to ignore it. I opened the door and said, “I’m going.”
A couple of guys were coming down the hallway. I felt my cheeks go red, and I closed the door behind me. They stayed silent, but I heard them start to laugh once I was past them. I flew out of the boys’ dorm door, and heard a lot of noise coming from the hall below. I leaned over the balcony.
“Miss Tobias!”
Professor Crawley, in khakis and a Harvard sweatshirt, was standing and breathing hard at the bottom of the stairs. Susan turned around when he called her name. “Stop running, I’ve already seen you—all of you—so just stop running.”
Susan Tobias was trembling and white as a sheet. “P-please, Mr. Crawley, I—I … My p-parents will kill me!”
“Come with me, and we might be able to work something out.” He ushered her with his hand. “There are only, what, five hundred students at this school? I know who you all are.”
He looked up and caught eyes with me. He crooked his finger to beckon me downstairs.
“We might have been out of bed after curfew, but she just snuck out of the boys’ dorms!” Susan was saying as I descended the stairs.
My heart was pounding. I hated getting caught doing anything. It always mortified me.
“You come with me, too,” he said, once I was next to them.
He led us through two heavy wooden doors and down a hallway. He switched on the lights and opened his office door with a key. “Sit.”
He indicated the seats across from his own, where he sat.
“I’m sorry, I—”
Professor Crawley cut me off. “I’ll talk to you in a second.” He turned toward Susan. “Miss Tobias. You’ve had a lot of detentions lately, haven’t you?” He turned on his computer and typed her name into a search box. “Yes, you have. Six in the past three months. I’m not going to ask you what’s going on. I just need you to stop messing up. You’re going to interfere with your own chances of getting into Northwestern. Also, I hate being dragged out of bed.”
“Yes, Professor Crawley. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize to me, apologize to your future if you screw it up.”
“Yes, Professor Crawley.”
He gave a nod. “Go on to bed now.”
“Thank you, Professor Crawley,” she said quietly, before walking out the door and leaving us alone.
“So what happened with you? The boys’ dorms, really? This surprises me.”
“I wasn’t doing anything—I just had to talk to Max. Holloway. Max Holloway. I had to talk to him about something.”
“Couldn’t wait until the morning?”
I shook my head. My eyes suddenly started to burn, and I surprised myself by getting the urge to cry.
“What’s goin’ on?”
I shook my head and fought back the tears. “I don’t even know. I’m just so frustrated. I feel like all he thinks about is Her, and everyone’s always talking about it—Becca this, and Becca that—and I’m just not trying to be her—I don’t want what she had. Well, I mean, I do, I want him but that’s just a coincidence, it wasn’t on purpose. And everyone thinks it is, I feel like. And I went home and even Michael knew. Michael! He doesn’t know anything, and yet he knew about Her. And then we got in that big fight, and it’s just like even if I wanted to, I can’t even go home, and I don’t want to go to school with Leah anymore, because she’s just … ugh sometimes, you know? Plus then every time I go up to my room here, there’s Dana, just waitin’ to be weird as hell. Blake’s nice and everything, so that’s cool, and I mean,
