Frost

“Leena,” she said, smiling now, too. “I promise, he runs really, really well.”

As I walked away, after leaving Celeste at the religion building, I found myself unable to contain a huge smile. Celeste’s reason for wanting us to get together wasn’t that weird. And despite feeling bad about David’s embarrassment, I couldn’t help feeling a giddy jolt of excitement when I thought about what had happened on the quad. I actually broke out into a skip.

For once, I wasn’t the one doing the elaborate name doodles. They were being done about me.

David called me that evening. “So, that was awkward,” he said.

“Yeah,” I said, hugging a pillow to me, “you could say that.”

“Sorry she’s such an ass,” he said. “I wasn’t mad at you when I walked off like that. I just couldn’t believe her. Of course, I should have acted like I didn’t care. That would have been much better. She’s like a three-year-old throwing a tantrum. She really is.”

“I know.”

“And, you know, that wasn’t—”

“Don’t even worry,” I said. “I doodle all the time. Totally random stuff.”

“Because I respect the moratorium,” he said. “So I wouldn’t ever, you know, ask you to compromise that. Even in my fantasies.”

“Uh-huh,” I said, smiling, because the way he said it was insinuating just the opposite.

“The seriousness of the moratorium must be respected,” he went on. “Celeste wasn’t aware of it, I guess.”

“I guess not,” I said. And I closed my eyes and hugged the pillow tighter, and dared to think that something good—something very good—might have come from rooming with Celeste Lazar.

My favorite part of books and movies is almost always the “before.” The beginning, before whatever upends the characters’ lives has happened— before she knows he’s a vampire, before the  spaceship arrives . . . And for me, the next week or so had that same sort of feeling. I knew, almost for sure, that something was going to happen with me and David. I wasn’t sure when—maybe not immediately; I hadn’t shed my stress about how much work lay ahead of me this semester. But still, the air was filled with the thrill of possibility.

Every time we talked—not about anything serious, just the usual conversations about classes and homework and stuff—there seemed to be a little more physical contact. But nothing to push us over that line. Nothing that meant I actually had to deal with the complications of the situation. Just . . . the beautiful before.

And as for what had happened with Celeste’s photo, well,

Kate had reassured me as much as anyone could have. Not that I forgot about it, of course. I was vigilant about locking the windows and doors whenever I left. But I’d pretty much decided that her theory was correct: Celeste had thrown the photo herself, and had been too embarrassed to let me know. And all I could do was sit tight and wait for the semester to be over.

Chapter 17

“ BUT HOW DO YOU MANAGE EVERYTHING-” I said to Marika, my co-counselor. “I mean, how do you have time for all your work, plus this, plus soccer, college stuff, and a girlfriend? It seems . . . impossible.”

I’d decided to take advantage of a lull in activity at the peer-counseling office and had been asking Marika’s opinion about my “friend’s” dilemma—to get involved in a relationship or not—while she practiced yoga poses on the carpet.

“I don’t know,” Marika said as she balanced in tree, arms stretched over her head. “I don’t really think about it. It all just happens.” She looked at me as if I might have a brain deficiency. “You do realize a lot of people have relationships while living full and productive lives?”

“But what would you do if Susanna dumped you, right before midterms or something?”

The door to the office flew open. Abby breezed in and dropped her bag on the floor. “I need help.” She placed the back of her hand on her forehead in a swoon.

“I’ll take this one,” I said.

Abby followed me into one of the two small, private rooms adjoining the main one.

“I have to warn you,” I said as we settled into the plush purple armchairs, “I may not be qualified to treat mental disturbances as deep as yours.”

“That’s understandable,” she said. “I just wanted to tell you the plan for New York.” She kicked off her shoes and drew her legs up. “You still have an honor-roll day left, right?”

I nodded. “Two.” Barcroft has the ironic policy of awarding honor-roll students with two days the next semester that they can officially take off of classes.

“Cool. So, we’re going to beat the traffic by driving down on Thursday night,” Abby said. “We’ll have an extra day in the city. And the best thing is that Viv’s mom got us tickets to the new play where Nate Warren does this whole scene naked, on Friday night, so this way we could be there in time for that. Nate Warren naked, in the same room as us! Can you believe it? I am so psyched. Beyond psyched. It’ll be the best trip ever. Can I have a Life Saver?”