reappeared, a thick volume tucked under his arm. He stares at me curiously. “Are you okay? You look like you saw a ghost.”
“I’m fine. Here’s your book back.” I slide it across the desk to him. It’s haunted. He’s haunted. I grab my notebook and backpack. “I have to go.”
“What? You just got here. Besides, I was hoping I could bounce more ideas off you. We could take a walk, if you’d like?”
“I can’t.”
I bolt out without saying good-bye. He must think I’m crazy.
Maybe I am crazy.
What is happening to me?
13.
O UTSIDE, THE AIR IS THICK AND HUMID, LIKE A WET SLICKER that sticks to your skin. My mom always complains about September weather because it can be hot one day and freezing the next. It’s probably going to start raining at any moment now, and I don’t have an umbrella.
I hurry through the quad, wondering which way I should go. Back to Kerrith? I might run into Devon and the others, and they would force me to go to that party. Over to Lanyon, so I can hang out in the computer center and creep on a dead girl some more?
I think I’m losing my mind.
Why did I ever come to Thorn Abbey, anyway?
I choke back a sob. Great. On top of everything, I’m goingto have a PMS meltdown in the middle of campus. I pass a group of seniors walking toward the library. They stare at me, and one of them says, “Yeah, that’s that girl who—”
“Tess! Wait up!”
I turn. Max is jogging in my direction. It didn’t occur to me that he might follow me.
He stops in front of me. He looks worried, or mad, or both. It’s hard to tell. “What’s wrong?” he demands.
“Nothing!” I say, quickly blinking back tears.
“You’re lying. What happened while I was in the stacks?”
“Nothing.”
Max crosses his arms over his chest. “Seriously, stop lying.”
I purse my lips together stubbornly. I can’t tell him that I saw Becca’s inscription. Or that it made me insanely jealous. Or that it made me insane, period , because somehow, I imagined that her signature burned my fingers, and they actually throbbed with pain. Isn’t there some mental illness where you hallucinate an injury and your body reacts with real symptoms? That’s me.
I don’t know why Max almost kissed me on the cliff or why he asked me to hang out with him tonight. Maybe he was just lonely. Or bored. Whatever the reason, I’ve had enough. He’s not the one who needs to move on. I am.
“Tess.” Max starts to reach for me, then drops his arms tohis sides. “I don’t know what to do. Is it just me, or are we always chasing each other across campus?”
On Monday night, I chased out of the movie after him. On Tuesday morning, I chased after him before he could jump off a cliff. So far, I’m the one who’s done most of the chasing. “So?”
“Maybe we should stop running away and, well, just stop running.”
“Why?” I ask skeptically.
“So we can be friends?”
“Why would we want to do that?”
“Because.” He laughs awkwardly. “Why are you making this hard for me?”
Because I don’t want to be a fool anymore. “Hard for you how?”
“Look. I don’t have a lot of close friends. I have one, to be exact. Franklin. It’s not easy for me to”—Max stuffs his hands into his pockets—“what would my shrink say? Open up.”
I melt a little inside. Max is confiding in me. “I can relate to that.”
“You can?”
“Definitely. I’d rather eat dirt than talk about myself.”
He smiles.
“I’ve never been in therapy. What’s it like?” I ask curiously.
“You’d hate it. You have to talk about yourself the whole time.”
I smile. “What’s your therapist like?”
“I don’t see him anymore. My parents made me go, after—” He hesitates.
Oh, God. Me and my big mouth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“No, it’s okay.”
Max falls silent. I am such a moron. He finally tells me something personal, and I remind him of Becca and make him clam up.
I don’t know
“I’m fine. Here’s your book back.” I slide it across the desk to him. It’s haunted. He’s haunted. I grab my notebook and backpack. “I have to go.”
“What? You just got here. Besides, I was hoping I could bounce more ideas off you. We could take a walk, if you’d like?”
“I can’t.”
I bolt out without saying good-bye. He must think I’m crazy.
Maybe I am crazy.
What is happening to me?
13.
O UTSIDE, THE AIR IS THICK AND HUMID, LIKE A WET SLICKER that sticks to your skin. My mom always complains about September weather because it can be hot one day and freezing the next. It’s probably going to start raining at any moment now, and I don’t have an umbrella.
I hurry through the quad, wondering which way I should go. Back to Kerrith? I might run into Devon and the others, and they would force me to go to that party. Over to Lanyon, so I can hang out in the computer center and creep on a dead girl some more?
I think I’m losing my mind.
Why did I ever come to Thorn Abbey, anyway?
I choke back a sob. Great. On top of everything, I’m goingto have a PMS meltdown in the middle of campus. I pass a group of seniors walking toward the library. They stare at me, and one of them says, “Yeah, that’s that girl who—”
“Tess! Wait up!”
I turn. Max is jogging in my direction. It didn’t occur to me that he might follow me.
He stops in front of me. He looks worried, or mad, or both. It’s hard to tell. “What’s wrong?” he demands.
“Nothing!” I say, quickly blinking back tears.
“You’re lying. What happened while I was in the stacks?”
“Nothing.”
Max crosses his arms over his chest. “Seriously, stop lying.”
I purse my lips together stubbornly. I can’t tell him that I saw Becca’s inscription. Or that it made me insanely jealous. Or that it made me insane, period , because somehow, I imagined that her signature burned my fingers, and they actually throbbed with pain. Isn’t there some mental illness where you hallucinate an injury and your body reacts with real symptoms? That’s me.
I don’t know why Max almost kissed me on the cliff or why he asked me to hang out with him tonight. Maybe he was just lonely. Or bored. Whatever the reason, I’ve had enough. He’s not the one who needs to move on. I am.
“Tess.” Max starts to reach for me, then drops his arms tohis sides. “I don’t know what to do. Is it just me, or are we always chasing each other across campus?”
On Monday night, I chased out of the movie after him. On Tuesday morning, I chased after him before he could jump off a cliff. So far, I’m the one who’s done most of the chasing. “So?”
“Maybe we should stop running away and, well, just stop running.”
“Why?” I ask skeptically.
“So we can be friends?”
“Why would we want to do that?”
“Because.” He laughs awkwardly. “Why are you making this hard for me?”
Because I don’t want to be a fool anymore. “Hard for you how?”
“Look. I don’t have a lot of close friends. I have one, to be exact. Franklin. It’s not easy for me to”—Max stuffs his hands into his pockets—“what would my shrink say? Open up.”
I melt a little inside. Max is confiding in me. “I can relate to that.”
“You can?”
“Definitely. I’d rather eat dirt than talk about myself.”
He smiles.
“I’ve never been in therapy. What’s it like?” I ask curiously.
“You’d hate it. You have to talk about yourself the whole time.”
I smile. “What’s your therapist like?”
“I don’t see him anymore. My parents made me go, after—” He hesitates.
Oh, God. Me and my big mouth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“No, it’s okay.”
Max falls silent. I am such a moron. He finally tells me something personal, and I remind him of Becca and make him clam up.
I don’t know
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