Frost

“Where do you stand with the whole boyfriend thing?” Was I imagining it, or had he somehow found a way to press even closer to me? Having a conversation when I was near enough to share his breath was kind of difficult. The distraction of the pulsing and fluttering in my body . . .

I adjusted my glasses, swallowed. “I went out with a couple different guys, freshman and sophomore year. Now, this semester at least, I kind of don’t want to deal. I have so much else to think about. I know that sounds lame, but . . .”

“So, that’s it? You’re just . . . not interested?”

Wait, did he mean in general, or in him?

“I . . .” Breathe normally. Speak normally. “This fall, I’ve put a moratorium on dating. I’m so stressed-out about colleges, and keeping my grades up, and everything. I’m going to reassess after break.”

“A moratorium?” he said.

“Yeah.” I nodded, feeling like an idiot.

“That’s too bad,” he said. Or, at least, that’s what I thought he said, but my blood was rushing so loudly in my ears I wasn’t quite sure. If it is what he said, why was it too bad? Because of him? Because it meant we couldn’t be together?

“So do you really think Celeste and I should go to New York with you guys?” he said, interrupting my spontaneous combustion. “What if she and Abby end up killing each other?”

Given my own fear about the dynamics on the trip, I was surprised by my immediate response. “You should definitely come,” I said. “You can ride down with me. It’d be much more comfortable for Celeste than the bus.”

“I’ve seen your car,” he said. “Can it make it to New York?”

“Didn’t you hear Viv?” I said. “I can tie a cherry stem in a knot with my tongue and fix my car.”

“Simultaneously?” he asked.

I laughed, then checked the time on my phone and immediately jumped to my feet. “I didn’t realize how late it was. I have to go.”

After stopping back by his room to pick up Celeste’s laundry, David walked me downstairs to the front entrance of the dorm. A group of senior guys were playing Nerf basketball in the common room.

“Hey, Leena,” Matt Halpern said. “Pretty late for parietals, isn’t it?”

“She came earlier, dude, so now she’s going,” one of the other guys said. They snorted and jostled one another. I couldn’t look at David’s face.

“Thanks again for the cake,” he said as he opened the door. He was positioned so I had to pass just inches from him to get out. I didn’t want to go outside, but those stupid guys could see us standing there.

“Leena?” he said.

The planes of his face were sharp and strong in the harsh fluorescent light, but his voice was soft. “Yeah?”

“I understand it’s an awkward situation, but if you can think of anything to say to Celeste, about that guy, I’d really appreciate it. Only if you feel comfortable.”

Gazing at me with those eyes, he could have asked me to do just about anything and I would have agreed.

“I’ll try,” I said.

“And . . . the moratorium. It’s only one semester, right?”

“Yeah,” I said. “One semester.”

Suddenly, that sounded very, very long.

Chapter 15

I MADE IT BACK TO FROST HOUSE with forty seconds to spare before sign-in, sweaty and breathing hard after running the whole way from Prescott carrying the bag of laundry. As I scribbled my name on the sheet, I noticed that Whip had signed out only fifteen minutes ago. Not a development I’d be reporting back to David.

I wasn’t quite ready to be inside, and definitely didn’t feel like dealing with Celeste, so I dropped her laundry bag in the common room and sat out on the porch in one of the Adirondack chairs. I stared up at the sky over the trees and tried to bring myself back to the roof. I didn’t want to worry, right now, about anything that had been said. I just wanted to remember the feeling of my side pressed against his. The warmth and solidity of his arm, his torso, his thigh . . . The unmistakable reaction inside me and on my skin. How could something so passive—just sitting there next to another body—feel so good in so many different ways? A sense of complete safety combined with that giddy flitter-flutter that thrummed all the way to my toe tips.

“Someone there?” Ms. Martin called from her front doorway.

“It’s me, Leena,” I called back. “Sorry. I’m here on the porch.”

She padded around the corner, wrapped in a bathrobe. “I wanted to make sure it was one of you girls.”

“Just me,” I said, standing. “But I’m going in now.”

I went inside, and when I tried to open the bedroom door was surprised to find it was still locked. I got out my key and slid it in the lock, pushed the door—

“Leena?” Celeste’s voice called out from somewhere. Not the bedroom.

“Yeah?” I said, turning around.

“Can you . . . can you come in here?” She was in the bathroom. Probably taking one of her frequent nighttime baths.