The Education Of Hailey Kendrick Part 10

"Sledding?"

"And to Denny's." I broke into a smile. "I had a Grand Slam."

"I have no idea what's going on with you," Kelsie said.

"I know. I don't know what's going on with me either, but I'm not sure it's all bad." I hugged her, took my books, and loped down the rest of the stairs to meet with Ms. Sullivan.

21.

My favorite building on campus is the library. I love the smell of books and how the silence makes the place feel special, almost sacred. The corner of the library is a three-story stone turret room with thin windows. The room is full of several long wooden tables set with green banker lights making puddles of yellow light. Each of the windows is set out slightly, creating a small window seat. I always grab one of those to work in. It isn't as easy as having the table as a desk, but I like to lean against the cool stone and look out the leaded gla.s.s windows. It feels like being inside a castle. A castle where you would never run out of things to read. Most of the students at Evesham don't use the library often; they prefer to do their research online. As far as I'm concerned, the fact that it is often empty makes it even better.

My meeting with Ms. Sullivan had gone okay. I think she was excited to have a potential crisis on her hands. Her job had to be pretty boring most of the time, with people only showing up to talk about college admission options, roommate conflicts, and the occasional bout of homesickness. It would be like being a doctor where people only came into the office to have splinters removed or with stuffed-up noses. You'd have to look forward to someone coming in with a lawn mower amputation of the foot or a good cardiac condition. Most likely, thinking I was on the verge of an emotional breakdown had made her entire week. She got almost giddy when she saw a long scratch on my arm that I'd gotten while sledding. Ms. Sullivan thought she might have a cutter on her hands, and I could practically see her lift out of her seat in excitement. I'd hoped I would get away with just the one meeting, but apparently she didn't think my emotionally fragile state could be repaired that quickly. I was going to have to see her weekly until she decided I was stable. I was tempted to make up multiple personalities to keep things lively for her, but I figured if I wasn't careful I'd end up in the psychiatric wing of the hospital.

The librarian had helped me pull information on the history of Evesham. I carried the dusty pile of materials back to my window seat. I'd brought my cashmere wrap with me, and my plan was to curl up and pound out the paper for Winston. I propped my feet up on the bench, tucking my wrap in around my legs. I pulled the first book off the stack and opened it up. It was dark outside, so the windows mirrored back the inside of the room. My eyes caught a reflection, and I saw that there was someone sitting off to the side watching me. Great. Ever since Drew had dropped me back at school, I'd felt like a creature at the zoo. Every time I walked into a room, everyone stopped talking and stared. The story of my great escape had spread all over campus. I couldn't tell if they were impressed with what I had done or were waiting for me to do something else unexpected at any moment.

I s.h.i.+fted in the seat, turning my shoulder to my new stalker, and tried to focus on the book. I read a few lines, but my eyes kept darting back to the reflection to see if the person was still watching. Finally I turned around so I could see who it was and hopefully embarra.s.s them into moving along.

My eyes went wide. It was Tristan. He sat at one of the long tables, just staring at me. He didn't have any books with him; he wasn't even pretending to do anything else. The book I'd been holding slipped out of my hands and smacked loudly onto the marble floor, making me flinch. Tristan stood and shuffled over. I pulled my knees up so there was room, and he sat across from me in the window seat, our feet lined up in the middle and our knees making two mountains to separate us.

"You okay?" Tristan asked, his voice low and quiet even though we were the only ones in the library.

I nodded. "You okay?" My heart was beating fast. We were having an actual conversation. No ignoring each other, no screaming, just talking.

He shrugged and looked out the window, his reflection staring right back at him. "Some people are saying you snapped this morning and Dean Winston found you wandering around and brought you back."

"Not exactly. I couldn't handle the dining hall meeting thing, so I bolted. I went into town for a while to think. I came back on my own."

"You skipped cla.s.ses?"

"Can you believe it?" I asked, trying to make him laugh, or at least smile. Tristan used to tease me about being a rule follower. He would say there was never a guideline I didn't embrace.

"These days there are a lot of things about you that I can't believe," he said, looking at his lap.

So much for trying to lighten the mood. "I'm sorry. I really, really am."

"What do you want to happen now?" Tristan picked at the hem on his sweater, pulling a thread loose. "Do you want to be with this guy?"

"No." My heart sped up, and I was glad I wasn't hooked to a lie detector test. I didn't want to date Joel. I was almost sure of it, but I couldn't deny there had been something that night, and that meant I was attracted either to Joel or to the idea of kissing someone else.

"Do you want us to get back together?"

My heart skipped a beat. I couldn't tell if he was asking me out of curiosity or if he thought he might be able to forgive me. Suddenly I had an image of Drew sitting at Denny's telling me that what I really wanted was to break up with Tristan. I shook my head slightly to clear his voice out of my mind. Getting back together with Tristan would be a huge step forward to getting my life back.

"I never wanted us to be apart," I said softly. I touched his wrist. He didn't pull away, so I left my finger resting there. I could feel his pulse just below the skin. "I want to be able to explain, to give you a good reason for everything that's happened, but I don't have a good reason. I screwed up." A tear ran down my face, and I wiped it away quickly. I didn't want him to think I was relying on guilt.

"You want me to say it's okay, that I forgive you, but it's not that easy. I always felt I could trust you, and then this happened. Everything feels upside down."

"I know."

"What do we do now?" Tristan asked.

I felt a brief flash of annoyance. Why did I always have to be the one to make decisions? What was I supposed to say? Was the choice over whether we got back together really in my hands? I always picked the movies and where we went to eat. Wasn't this one of the decisions Tristan should make on his own?

"What do you want to happen?" I asked.

Tristan didn't answer. I couldn't tell if that was because he didn't want to tell me, or if he didn't know himself. Maybe he was trying to keep me on my toes.

"Are you and your dad still fighting?" Tristan asked, changing the subject. He saw the confusion on my face. "Kelsie told me everything, about him bailing on your summer plans."

"I was counting on him, on our plans. Then, with everything that's happened, he's not exactly pleased with me these days. I feel like he and I need to hash things out."

"What good does that do? Do you think he'll change his mind?"

I slumped against the wall. "No." My dad and I still hadn't talked since the call with Dean Winston. He'd sent me an e-mail that he was out of town for a business trip and that he was still trying to determine what punishment he wanted to add over the whole statue incident. I hadn't bothered to write back. What would I say? He'd perfected the fine art of ignoring me the past few years. It only seemed fair that I do the best I could to try ignoring him for a change.

"Not having the end-of-summer party won't be that big a deal."

"Mandy practically considers it the crime of the century. You would think I'd canceled her birthday." I sighed. "It's not really the party that matters."

"I know. It's your dad's loss, not having the summer with you. You can't get time back."

"Thanks."

"I keep thinking that we won't be able to make up time either. We already didn't have much time left," Tristan said. "Just the rest of this year, and then you're gone for the summer, and then college for you after that."

I didn't say anything. Tristan and I had never talked about what would happen after senior year. I knew he wasn't happy that I was going away for college, but he also knew it wasn't reasonable to ask me to not apply to the schools I really wanted to go to. I knew there were millions of high school couples facing the same issue, but it was different for us. We'd spent almost every day of our lives together for the past four years. We were like a married couple that just happened to live in different dorm rooms. Our parents weren't around to tell us to take things easy. We spent more time with each other than with our families. It had a way of making things more intense. We'd dealt with the end of school by ignoring it altogether. Maybe Drew was right. Maybe I had wanted to bring things to a definite end rather than let them slowly die out in a painful long-distance relations.h.i.+p.

Tristan stood. "I want things to go back, but I honestly don't know if they can. That's what I came to tell you. I hate that we're not talking. A million times a day I go to tell you something, that my dad got the part in the movie he wanted, or that I heard there are those brownies you like on the menu for dinner, or to ask you what you think I should do for my senior thesis project in government, and then I remember all over again what happened."

"I don't think we can go back," I said. Tristan looked down at me. "We either go forward or we don't, but there is no going back. I'd understand if you didn't want to, but if you do, I'm here."

22.

I sat straight up in bed. I looked at my clock and saw it was six a.m. I couldn't figure out what had woken me up. After Tristan had left the library, at first I didn't think I'd be able to focus. I wondered if there was something else that I should have said. There was no telling if I was going to get a chance to talk with him like that again. I could have thrown myself into his arms or begged for him to take me back. I suspected that was what he'd expected me to do. Then in the middle of worrying, my mind cleared out and I was able to bury myself in the history of Evesham. I stayed at the library until it closed just before eleven, and brought a few of the books back with me to my room. I'd actually found myself caught up in the project and hadn't turned my light out until after one a.m. I was exhausted, and now, for some reason, I was awake. sat straight up in bed. I looked at my clock and saw it was six a.m. I couldn't figure out what had woken me up. After Tristan had left the library, at first I didn't think I'd be able to focus. I wondered if there was something else that I should have said. There was no telling if I was going to get a chance to talk with him like that again. I could have thrown myself into his arms or begged for him to take me back. I suspected that was what he'd expected me to do. Then in the middle of worrying, my mind cleared out and I was able to bury myself in the history of Evesham. I stayed at the library until it closed just before eleven, and brought a few of the books back with me to my room. I'd actually found myself caught up in the project and hadn't turned my light out until after one a.m. I was exhausted, and now, for some reason, I was awake.

I closed my eyes and lay back down. I pulled my pink comforter up over my shoulders. I didn't have to get up for another hour. I could push it to an hour and half if I was willing to skip breakfast. After my Denny's gorging session yesterday, I wasn't sure I'd be able to face breakfast for a long time anyway. Then I heard it, a scratching sound. I pushed the covers off and crawled out of bed. I walked over to my door and leaned against it, pressing my ear to the wood. Then the sound happened again.

I unlocked the door and cracked it open to see what was causing the noise. Kelsie slid inside, looking behind her to make sure no one had seen her. Suddenly my best friend was James Bond.

I stood there in an old pair of Tristan's boxers and a T-s.h.i.+rt I'd bought on vacation to New York a few years ago. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. Kelsie wasn't normally an early bird. In fact, I couldn't remember the last time I had seen her up at this hour. Last year we had a fire drill for the dorms first thing in the morning, and Kelsie refused to get up for it. When Ms. Estes tried to get her in trouble for not evacuating, Kelsie did research to prove there was such as a thing as a "right to burn."

"What's up?" I asked.

Kelsie pulled a stack of magazines out from under her arm. "I bribed one of the maids to pick these up last night at the 7-Eleven. It hit the Web on TMZ."

"What are you talking about?"

Kelsie thrust the magazines in front of me. On top was In Touch In Touch, the cover story something to do with a reality star who had been caught with someone else's husband. I looked down at it and then over at Kelsie. I was a fan of reality TV as much as the next person, but it didn't strike me as the kind of thing that was worth waking up at dawn for. I searched my mind to see if the star was someone related to anyone at Evesham. Kelsie grabbed the magazine out of my hand, flipped through it, and handed it back to me.

Spoiled Heiress Breaks Hollywood Hearts-Boarding School Girl Goes Wild! There was a large photo of Tristan, posing in between his parents outside of some premier, then an inset photo of him turning away from the camera. I couldn't tell when or where the photo had been taken, but it was framed to make it look like Tristan was upset. Knowing Tristan, he could have been joking around, or hungry, or ticked about the Yankees losing, but the photo was captioned: "The brokenhearted heartthrob." My heart stopped. At the bottom of the page was a grainy photo of me. It was a picture taken at Evesham. I was walking on campus, and my mouth was open in a way that looked like I was sneering. There was also a small inset picture, my photo from last year's yearbook.

I felt the blood drain out of my face. I sat down quickly on the bed. "Are you kidding me?" I flipped through the pages. I couldn't focus on the words. They seemed to s.h.i.+mmy and dance across the page. Tristan had been in the tabloid magazines dozens of times because of his parents, but this was my first time. Unless you count a picture that was in People People a couple years ago, where I was blending into the background at a party at his parents' house. Someone more famous had their elbow in front of my face in the shot. You wouldn't even have known it was me unless someone told you. a couple years ago, where I was blending into the background at a party at his parents' house. Someone more famous had their elbow in front of my face in the shot. You wouldn't even have known it was me unless someone told you.

"They're spinning you as a real ball breaker. How you told Tristan you were cheating on him in front of the entire school. They also make the statue thing into some kind of political statement you were making."

"What sort of political statement am I supposed to be making?"

"It's not really clear, sort of an anticapitalist thing. Down with the man, blah, blah, blah." Kelsie plunked down onto my bed. She pulled the magazine back and flipped through it. "The photo of you is a nasty one. You look like a mouth breather."

"How can they spin me as some sort of rich spoiled heiress on the one hand and an anticapitalist terrorist on the other?"

"Look, these magazines aren't the New York Times New York Times or or Newsweek Newsweek, you know. They aren't known for their journalistic integrity." She flipped a few more pages. "Hey, I hadn't heard this. Did you know these guys had broken up? I always thought she could do better. He always looks like he needs a shower." She turned the magazine to show me a large glossy photo of a rock star and his model girlfriend. Or ex-girlfriend. I pulled the magazine out of her hand. Unwashed musicians were not what I was interested in.

"My family doesn't even have that much money. Mandy's an heiress. I'm just"-my brain scrambled to find the right term-"like, ordinary rich. Maybe not even rich, just well to do."

"They talk about your vacation home on the lake."

"That's not a vacation home. It's my grandparents' place."

"I know that. I'm telling you what the articles say."

"Articles?" My question came out in a shrill high voice.

"Oh, yeah. There's a version of the same thing in both of these." Kelsie tossed the other magazines onto the bed. "Same picture of you too. That's unfortunate. At least Star Star Magazine Magazine used a shot of you from one of the student government meetings where you have your mouth shut." used a shot of you from one of the student government meetings where you have your mouth shut."

I flopped facedown onto the bed and buried my face in my pillow. Just when I thought things couldn't get worse. "Has Tristan seen these yet?" I asked, my words m.u.f.fled by the pillow.

"I called Joel last night when I saw it online and told him to give Tristan the heads-up."

"How exactly did you get the magazines?"

"You know the maid who does the bathrooms? The woman with the ring in her eyebrow that Dean Winston made her take out?" She waited for me to nod that I knew who she was talking about. "Everyone buys their weed from her, so I got her number from one of the girls on the floor and asked her to pick up something legal for a change. Even so, she charged me a hundred bucks to drop them off first thing this morning. Talk about a markup, but what are you going to do?"

"If no one can get off campus, maybe no one will see them," I said.

"I doubt it. I heard Mandy talking about it in the bathroom last night. That's how I knew to look for it. If I can get copies of the magazines, you better believe she can get her hands on copies."

"What is her problem with me?" I rolled over so I could look up at the ceiling.

"Well, first off she's a b.i.t.c.h in general. That's her natural state. Then you add on top of it that you were more popular than her and that you were dating Tristan. She always had a thing for him."

"She likes Tristan?"

"I don't know if she really likes him, but he's the most popular guy here. She likes the idea of them as a couple. I'm not sure she's capable of actual emotion; it's more a thing of how a relations.h.i.+p can benefit her. Dating him would double her star power."

"I don't even know why she's famous to start with. She's stinking rich and pretty. That's it. Oh, and she's willing to flash her hoo-ha to anyone who wants a peek. There's a real claim to fame. She should stick a dis...o...b..ll between her legs and put down a dance floor, there's so much traffic through there."

"Maybe that's why she vadazzled her s.n.a.t.c.h last year." Kelsie and I both snorted. Mandy glued Swarovski crystals all over her waxed crotch and then acted surprised when a photographer got pictures. Whoever glues crystals on themselves is clearly doing it with the goal of someone seeing it.

"I still can't believe, with everything happening in the world these days, that my life counts as news."

"Tristan's a big deal. He's news."

"What does that make me?" I asked.

"Collateral damage. If you want to look for the positive, your life drama is most likely helping to support someone on the Evesham staff. It's sort of like sponsoring a kid in a third world country."

"You think the security guard that sold the picture of Mandy sold this story?"

"Someone did. The pictures of you are from campus. The story is all over this place. It might not be the security guard. It could be a maid, or someone from the cooking crew. Then there's the guy you're cleaning with. He'd have an inside track."

"Drew? You think Drew would do this to me? That's so unfair. You think he would do that just because he's from town. Everyone here is always judging everyone else." I felt like pus.h.i.+ng Kelsie off the bed.

"Easy. Don't get your panties all knotted up. I'm not saying he did anything. What I said is that he could could have sold the information. You act like he's your best friend now. Lately everything is all 'Drew says this' and 'Drew does that.' You've known this guy for like a week." have sold the information. You act like he's your best friend now. Lately everything is all 'Drew says this' and 'Drew does that.' You've known this guy for like a week."

"Why would anyone do this?"

"Why not? Money, most likely. Maybe it's one of those staff people who don't like us because we go to Evesham. You heard about the maid who got canned two years ago because she was caught trying on Stephanie Wild's clothes? They clean our floors, wash our dishes, and make our meals. You have to figure sometimes they look at us and think it's unfair. Heck, maybe it is unfair. It's no wonder there are stories leaked out of here all the time."

I crumpled the cover of one of the glossy magazines. I didn't want to think Drew would do something like this, but I had told him everything that day at Denny's. He'd admitted that he needed to make money for school in the fall. Selling Evesham secrets would be a fast way to make a buck, and he hadn't exactly made a secret of what he thought of Evesham students in general. I think I had hoped it was different with me. My stomach clenched, filling with sour hot acid.

"I can't believe this had to happen now. Things with Tristan were just starting to get better."

"What do you mean?"

"He came to see me last night in the library." I almost laughed when I saw Kelsie's face. "You don't have to look that shocked. We dated for four years, after all. Did you think he'd really never speak to me again?"

"So are you guys getting back together?"

I shrugged. "I don't think he knows what he wants."

"You don't have to make him sound like a child who doesn't know what to do. The situation really threw him. He trusted you."

I leaned back, surprised at how angry she sounded. "I know. I didn't mean to make it sound like he was doing something wrong. You know how he is. He can't decide what he wants for dinner half the time."

"You always do that. Make snide comments about him. If you don't want to be with him, then don't date him."