“The rules at Barcroft apply just as much to seniors as they do to underclassmen. You know that.”
“I know.” Blah, blah, blah … I supposed she had to say all of this.
“I haven’t checked, but I believe this is the first strike against everyone involved. Luckily. So, you’ll meet with the disciplinary committee, but it won’t lead to anything as serious as expulsion.”
Her words hit me like a slap. “The disciplinary committee?” I said. “Really?”
“Of course. What did you think?”
What did I think? I thought she’d write it off as a stupid, but harmless, mistake.
I thought I was special.
I stood at the bottom of the narrow stairs, looking up at the closed door to Viv’s room waiting for me at the top. I hadn’t yet seen Celeste or the supposed disaster area. In the common room, the only sign of something amiss was a black garbage bag with Celeste’s violet comforter inside. It smelled like rotting fruit. I couldn’t imagine why, and didn’t really care. The only thing I cared about was being alone in my room. But I knew I had to face Viv and Abby first. If I delayed tel ing them, it would just be hanging over my head for longer.
I forced myself to lift my legs. Step. Step. Step. My hand felt heavy as a cement block when I raised it to knock on Viv’s door.
“Yeah?” Viv answered.
“Can I come in?” A question I never would have bothered asking before tonight.
There was a pause. “Whatever.”
Viv and Abby sat together on the bed, each holding a mug of tea. Normally, I’d have joined them, but I knew better, especially from the looks on their faces.
“You guys made it back okay?” I said, standing awkwardly just inside the doorway.
“Obviously.” Abby said. “Seeing as we’re here.”
“I’m so, so, sorry, you guys,” I said. “But I didn’t have any control over this. I didn’t know Celeste was leaving.”
“No control?” Abby said. “Seems to me you’re the one who told the dean about Viv’s parents. In other words, the one who ruined our weekend.”
“I’m sorry,” I said again. “I feel terrible. I’ll do whatever I can to make it up to you guys.”
“What do you want, Leen?” Viv asked in a tired voice.
I drew a deep breath. “I talked to Dean Shepherd. And she said that we have to meet with the DC. But because it’s our first offense, we don’t have to worry about being kicked out.”
“Kicked out!” Abby sat up straighter. “Are you kidding?”
“I said we’re not going to be kicked out.”
“But it’s a first strike?” Abby said. “You know what that means? No drinking, no smoking, no illegal parietals or sneaking out at night. No anything! During senior year! If we’re caught doing anything, we’re kicked out. We might as well be handcuffed to our desks!”
“I know. I’m sorry. It sucks.”
Viv’s hand flew up to her mouth. “Oh my God.”
“What?” Abby said.
“Oh my God,” she repeated.
“Viv. What? ”
“Cameron,” Viv said, her voice quiet. “Freshman year. Before we were together. He was busted for drinking.”
“He’s on probation?” I said. How could I not have known that?
Viv nodded.
A weight dropped in my gut like a cannonball.
“Viv,” I said. “You know I didn’t mean—”
She pressed one hand against her eyes and waved the other in my direction. “Just go. Okay? Go.”
“Please, Viv, I—”
Abby glared at me. “What part of ‘go’ don’t you understand?”
Thankfully, the door to what was now Celeste’s bedroom was closed. I’d have locked it from the outside if I could.
Trembling, I took Cubby off the windowsill and opened the door to my closet, momentarily jarred by how uncomfortably large and bright it seemed, empty of clothes. But then the smell and the soft air reached for me, and I knew it was still the same. Celeste had dumped my clothes from the other room in a pile; it only took me a few moments to hang them up—everything except my ankle-length puffer coat, which I spread on the floor in one corner. The space wasn’t nearly as full as with Celeste’s wardrobe, but it would do. I scooted into the corner with the puffer as a cushion. No more worrying about Celeste walking in on me. And I didn’t foresee Abby or Viv coming to visit anytime soon. The thought made my throat swell. I breathed deeply, inhaling the familiar, comforting scent.
“What am I going to do?” I said to Cubby.
The ring of my phone from my pocket startled me. I only answered because it was David.
“How’d it go?” he said.
It took me a second to realize he meant the meeting with Dean Shepherd. “Okay,” I said.
“Really?”
I bit the inside of my lip, remembering. My voice trembled. “Well, sort of.” Then I started to cry. “Can we … I’m sorry, can I just talk to you tomorrow? I can’t really deal right now.”
“Of course. Are you okay, Leena? Have you seen Celeste?”
“No. Not yet.” And whenever I did would be too soon. “I’m sorry. I really have to go.”
I hung up, took off my glasses, and pressed the heels of my hands against my eyelids to try and make it stop. But the tears were too strong for that. I lifted off Cubby’s head. My fingers fumbled with the baggies of pills. I set aside ones I didn’t want. Found the one I did.
“Everything is ruined,” I whispered even though there was no need to be quiet anymore.
You’re here now, she said. It’s okay.
“But Cameron …. I’ve ruined his life. And Viv’ll never forgive me.”
Shhh … You don’t need her.
I wanted to believe what I was telling myself. Wanted to believe I’d be all right. But I knew it wasn’t true. Of course I needed my friends. They were … everything.
Bit by bit, a calm settled over my body. My tears stopped, and I slept. A deep sleep, not the sleep of someone who’s worried she might have lost three of the most important people in her life.
The sleep of someone who knows she’s come home.
PART TWO
Chapter 27
I SLEPT IN THE CLOSET UNTIL surprisingly late the next morning. When I stood up, my limbs and spine hurt as if I’d spent the night digging a deep hole; my head ached so much I was ready to jump in the hole and be buried. I immediately took a couple of Tylenol. As the pills scraped their way down my dry throat, the events of the night before came back with more clarity, making my stomach hurt, too—the kind of ache that no medicine could help. I grabbed a clean towel and shuffled into the hallway. Celeste was just locking the door to the little room, dressed to go outside in a short, plaid wool cape, miniskirt, and the green beret. As if everything was perfectly normal.
“Hey,” I said.
She turned to face me. Dark hollows shadowed her eyes, her skin was dull, lips chapped—aside from her pulled-together outfit, she looked as bad as I felt. I’d thought I was going to have trouble controlling my anger, but much of it drained away.
“What happened?” I said. “We were really worried.”
“I took the Fung Wah Bus to Boston,” she said. “Bummer with my leg, but only fifteen dollars.”
“You know that’s not what I meant.” I leaned my back against the wall. “Why didn’t you talk to us before leaving? You do realize we’re all going to disciplinary committee because of this?” Silence. “Cameron might get kicked out.” Saying those words made me want to vomit.