what to do. What if Max is being sincere? I want him to like me the way I like him. But then I think of Becca’s inscription. I wish I could ask him why he still has that book of love poems. There could be a totally innocent explanation. Like, it was gathering dust on his shelf until he decided to use it for his English paper, and he doesn’t even remember that it was a gift from Becca.
I tilt my head to the sky. But there are no answers or epiphanies up there. Just rain clouds.
A couple of girls pass by, chattering about the Corn Roast. “Hey, Max!” they call out in unison. He barely acknowledges them, even though they’re drop-dead gorgeous. He’s watching me intently.
I meet his gaze. “Why do you want to hang out with me?” I ask him bluntly.
“What? Where’s this coming from?” he says, sounding surprised.
“I’m nothing like B”—I catch myself—“like the other girls at Thorn Abbey. I’m not beautiful and rich and sophisticated. I grew up in a town full of meth labs and cheap nail salons. I didn’t know what a Burberry was. I had to look it up.”
“Tess—”
“You don’t need to feel sorry for me because I’m the new girl,” I rush on, trying to mask the hurt in my voice. “I’m not a charity case. You don’t need to feel like you owe me because of what happened on the cliff. We’re not in a Star Trek: Voyager episode, where it’s like, ‘oh, you saved my life, so now I’m obligated to follow you across the Delta Quadrant and be your personal servant forever,’ blah, blah, blah.”
Max grins. “Tess!” he repeats loudly.
“What?”
He cradles my face with his hand. “Listen. I like you because you’re not like the other girls here. Most of them only care about clothes, money, stupid shit like that. You’re nice, and you’re real. You say what’s on your mind. You don’t worry about what other people think of you.”
“Well, actually, I do worry.” But it’s hard to get the words out, or articulate anything at all, because his hand is still touching my face, and his incredible brown eyes are staringinto mine. Plus I’m frantically trying to process everything he’s said to me.
“You shouldn’t care about other people,” Max says fiercely. “Most of them are idiots. And fakes. They pretend to be something they’re not just to get what they want, and—”
“Well, hello, you two!”
Startled, I glance past Max. Oh, God. Devon is strolling toward us with a big, mean smile on her face.
This is not good.
“Tess. Max. Fancy running into you here,” Devon says sweetly. She is wearing a crazy-short red dress and ridiculously high heels. Why is she wearing a Las Vegas call girl outfit? Then I remember that party at Chapin.
Max pulls away from me, as though we’re strangers suddenly. “Devon. I was just heading back to my dorm.”
“Oh, please don’t leave on my account! You lovebirds looked so cozy!” she trills.
Max doesn’t reply, just glares at her. He is a different person from a moment ago: ice cold, hostile. Why is he acting like this? I thought he and Devon were friends.
“I didn’t know you knew each other,” he says to me in a low, tense voice.
What is going on? I open my mouth to speak, wondering how I’m going to explain. But as always, Devon beats me tothe punch. “Oh, Tess didn’t tell you? We’re roommates.”
Max’s jaw drops. “Excuse me?”
“Yup, we’re practically BFFs. Aren’t we, Tess? And you know me, Max. I’ve already got her on a crash course to shed those extra pounds and trailer-park habits. Pretty soon, she’ll be the queen of Kerrith Hall. Right, Tess?”
My face grows hot. I’m so uncomfortable and embarrassed, I can’t even respond. Why is Devon being so mean?
“Did you finish that paper you were telling me about? We can walk over to Killian’s party together. We’ll be fashionably late. Max, join us?”
“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Max replies tersely.
“Suit yourself. Come on,
I tilt my head to the sky. But there are no answers or epiphanies up there. Just rain clouds.
A couple of girls pass by, chattering about the Corn Roast. “Hey, Max!” they call out in unison. He barely acknowledges them, even though they’re drop-dead gorgeous. He’s watching me intently.
I meet his gaze. “Why do you want to hang out with me?” I ask him bluntly.
“What? Where’s this coming from?” he says, sounding surprised.
“I’m nothing like B”—I catch myself—“like the other girls at Thorn Abbey. I’m not beautiful and rich and sophisticated. I grew up in a town full of meth labs and cheap nail salons. I didn’t know what a Burberry was. I had to look it up.”
“Tess—”
“You don’t need to feel sorry for me because I’m the new girl,” I rush on, trying to mask the hurt in my voice. “I’m not a charity case. You don’t need to feel like you owe me because of what happened on the cliff. We’re not in a Star Trek: Voyager episode, where it’s like, ‘oh, you saved my life, so now I’m obligated to follow you across the Delta Quadrant and be your personal servant forever,’ blah, blah, blah.”
Max grins. “Tess!” he repeats loudly.
“What?”
He cradles my face with his hand. “Listen. I like you because you’re not like the other girls here. Most of them only care about clothes, money, stupid shit like that. You’re nice, and you’re real. You say what’s on your mind. You don’t worry about what other people think of you.”
“Well, actually, I do worry.” But it’s hard to get the words out, or articulate anything at all, because his hand is still touching my face, and his incredible brown eyes are staringinto mine. Plus I’m frantically trying to process everything he’s said to me.
“You shouldn’t care about other people,” Max says fiercely. “Most of them are idiots. And fakes. They pretend to be something they’re not just to get what they want, and—”
“Well, hello, you two!”
Startled, I glance past Max. Oh, God. Devon is strolling toward us with a big, mean smile on her face.
This is not good.
“Tess. Max. Fancy running into you here,” Devon says sweetly. She is wearing a crazy-short red dress and ridiculously high heels. Why is she wearing a Las Vegas call girl outfit? Then I remember that party at Chapin.
Max pulls away from me, as though we’re strangers suddenly. “Devon. I was just heading back to my dorm.”
“Oh, please don’t leave on my account! You lovebirds looked so cozy!” she trills.
Max doesn’t reply, just glares at her. He is a different person from a moment ago: ice cold, hostile. Why is he acting like this? I thought he and Devon were friends.
“I didn’t know you knew each other,” he says to me in a low, tense voice.
What is going on? I open my mouth to speak, wondering how I’m going to explain. But as always, Devon beats me tothe punch. “Oh, Tess didn’t tell you? We’re roommates.”
Max’s jaw drops. “Excuse me?”
“Yup, we’re practically BFFs. Aren’t we, Tess? And you know me, Max. I’ve already got her on a crash course to shed those extra pounds and trailer-park habits. Pretty soon, she’ll be the queen of Kerrith Hall. Right, Tess?”
My face grows hot. I’m so uncomfortable and embarrassed, I can’t even respond. Why is Devon being so mean?
“Did you finish that paper you were telling me about? We can walk over to Killian’s party together. We’ll be fashionably late. Max, join us?”
“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Max replies tersely.
“Suit yourself. Come on,
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