Hysteria (14 page)

“What’s up?”

I imagined her staring at her nails. Resting the phone against her shoulder. Slouching
into the corner of her couch. “General boredom. What’s up with you, New Hampshire?”

“You didn’t write back.”

There was a pause, and I imagined her moving the phone from one shoulder to the other.
“Is that the only reason you called? Geez, I only just got it. What, you think I sit
around all day staring at the computer just in case you happen to send an e-mail?”

“No, I don’t think
—
”

“And besides, it didn’t even
say
anything. It said you were done with the day. That’s it. Wow. Excuse me for not being
inspired to respond.”

“You’re mad at me.”

Silence. And then, “No, you asshole. I’m not mad at you.” She sighed into the phone,
and I felt it, I swear. And I wanted to reach through the phone. Sit cross-legged
on the couch beside her while she painted my nails dark gray or hot pink or midnight
blue. I ran my fingers against the silver cord of the phone, searching for words.

“To continue this call . . .” An automated voice broke the silence, jarring me back
to here.

“I’m out of money . . .”

“I’ve got an end date: two weeks. Can’t have your number showing up on the phone bill.
Sorry.”

“Colleen?” I thought of words, but they weren’t the right ones. “I hate it here.”

“I
—
” And then there was a dial tone.
What?
I thought.
I
what
? I miss you
or
I’m hungry
or
I want to drop a penny from the top of the Eiffel Tower? What?

Reid didn’t show up during study hall. And really, why would he? He’d already told
me what he had to say, and I thanked him by simultaneously scaring the shit out of
him and insulting him. I wanted to send him an e-mail, tell him how I got off the
roof. That it was safe, that I would’ve told him, if he asked. But he didn’t ask.
I also remembered that email wasn’t necessarily private here.

Ugh.
I shoved my work
—
and his sweatshirt
—
into a backpack and walked down the hall.

“Where to, Ms. Murphy?” Ms. Perkins tore a slip of paper off her permission pad.

Krista stood behind me, tapping her foot. “Danvers West,” I said. And suddenly Jason’s
words from the night before made sense.
Danvers.
You disappear, you get a dorm named after you.

Ms. Perkins was still waiting. I cleared my throat. “Reid Carlson.”

She tore the paper off the pad, but before handing it to me, she said, “Krista? Same?”

“Yep. Danvers West. Jason Dorchester.”

Ms. Perkins handed us our slips of paper together, and I didn’t really have any choice
but to walk beside Krista.

Once we were outside, she spoke. “You shouldn’t have left, you know. It’s initiation.
And you haven’t been properly initiated yet.”

“What, hosing me down with water doesn’t count?”

“Oh, not hardly,” she said. We walked across the rest of the quad in silence, and
she entered the dorm in front of me.

Mr. Durham took our permission slips in the lounge. The dorm was the mirror image
of mine, but the furniture was more worn, and the whole place smelled a little more
like musk and sweat, like boys. Krista took off down the hall, but I stayed at Mr.
Durham’s makeshift desk.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know the room number.”

He grinned at me. “You’re showing up uninvited?”

“No,” I said. “He’s expecting me.” At least I hoped he was. “I just forgot to write
it down.”

“Right. Room 203.”

The door to his room was open, and there were other voices coming from inside. By
the time I realized that, though, he had already seen me and it was too late to turn
around. Reid cocked his head to the side as I stepped into his room.

He was sitting on the black rug on his floor, surrounded by three other students from
his grade. “This is Amy,” he said, pointing to the redhead with freckles next to him.
“Nick”—he pointed to the boy closest to me—“and Landon.”

“And this must be Mallory,” Landon said, standing. “Tell us how you did it.”

I locked eyes with Reid, who was still on the floor, not smiling, and he raised his
eyebrows. I pulled his sweatshirt out of my bag and tossed it to him.

“Thanks,” he said.

I looked at the floor. “You too.”

Nick cleared his throat and stood up. “Ohhh-kay.” He motioned for Amy to follow him.
“Relocating to my room when you’re ready, Reid.”

“Aw, man,” Landon said. “But it’s getting exciting.”

He left anyway, waving at me as he passed.

“I actually need to do that work,” Reid said.

I dropped my bag at the foot of his desk and sat in the chair beside it. I looked
at his walls, with posters of bands I didn’t know. And at his black-and-gray-striped
comforter, thrown haphazardly over his bed. With everyone gone, I noticed there was
music playing softly as well.

“There’s a ladder,” I said. “On the roof.”

“No there isn’t.”

“Yes. There is. From when there were fire escapes, I guess. Really obvious, if you’re
looking for it. I mean, if you want to leave, you can.”

“I’ve never seen a ladder.”

“Well, it doesn’t go all the way down. It’s just half a ladder. A third of a ladder.”

“A third of a ladder? And what about the missing two-thirds?”

“It ended right next to a window. A math room. And you know how those windows tilt
to open? I tilted it. And that’s that.” Which sounded much more dangerous than it
actually was.

He narrowed his eyes and spoke slowly. “You took a ladder and climbed through a window
on the third floor? Of course you did. I can’t decide whether you’re brave or reckless.”

I wasn’t either of those things. I was anxious and unsettled and I wanted the hell
off the roof. That’s all. “No, I’m not
—
”

“Yeah, you are. You always were.”

“Always? Reid, we saw each other three times a year, tops. You barely knew me.”

“Right.” He looked like he was trying not to smile. I was trying not to smile too.

“Hey, so, I’m gonna go back. I just wanted you to know . . . I mean, not like you
asked or anything, but . . .”

Reid kept waiting, like he thought I was going to spell it all out for him. And when
he finally realized I was done, he said, “Is that your apology?”

“Is this
yours
?” I asked, and this time I couldn’t really stop the smile.

He stood up so he was taller than me, and I rolled his chair back a little farther,
until it was pressed up against his desk. He stuck his hand out. “Friends?”

He didn’t lower his hand just because I kept staring at it. Not like when he found
me at the old student center. He held out his hand like we had no history. Like we
were starting over. Which was really the entire point of my coming here after all.

I stood up and put my hand in his. I expected us to shake, but neither of us did.
We just held on for a few seconds until I pulled my hand back.

I slung my bag over my shoulder.

“Are you coming to our game Saturday?”

“Um, not really my thing,” I said, moving toward the door.

“What’s not your thing? Soccer? Or me?”

I paused because there was really no right answer to that question. “Sitting on the
bleachers.”

He smiled. “Fair enough.” I walked out the doorway, and when I was in the hall, he
said, “So what is your thing?”

I thought of Colleen and the boardwalk, the beach and the sun, none of which were
here, and I kept moving, because the truth was, without her, I had no idea.

After study hall I took a sleeping pill and raced the feeling to sleep. I wasn’t fast
enough. Like running away last night had flipped some switch. Almost as soon as I
swallowed, I heard the noise. The
boom, boom, boom
coming closer. I closed my eyes, but I heard the voice.
Mallory
, it whispered.
Wait.

And that’s when the hand reached out and grabbed me.

Then came the dream, same as every night. I saw the choice, like the very first time:
the knife, the door. Life, death.
Choose. Choose different.
But I didn’t. I made the same choice every time. Even in my dream.

Reid fell into stride with me on the way to science class. “Hey.”

“Hey,” I said. “Were you waiting for me?” Bold.

“Just heading in the same direction.” Half-truth.

“I didn’t know you had science this period.” Lie.

Silence as we weaved through the crowded hall.

“Word on the street is that you slid down the downspout.”

“No!”

“There’s a smaller faction who say you crawled through the ventilation shaft, but
my class knows that’s not possible.”

“How do they know?”

“We tried that my year.”

I stopped walking. “Hey, I thought you said being locked on the roof was
fun
?”