He waves me away. “It’s not a rule if there’s no sign. Anyway, it’s just not on the official tour because it was the servants’ parlor when this was a private residence. They probably don’t think it’s fancy enough.” He shakes his head and points to the intricately carved fireplace mantel.
“So I guess you still think the manor is too fancy?”
“Those massive rooms make me feel small. This reminds me of home.”
“Well, sure, because we all have floor-to-ceiling windows like in here. In fact, the fireplace in my bedroom is only slightly larger than this one. It’s pedestrian, really.”
He stares at me and I swat his arm. “I’m kidding! Geez, give me some credit.”
“Sorry, sorry! I just figured your family must have some money.”
I blink. “Why would you say that?”
“Well, because... you know, because you’re here.”
“So are you.”
“But I got in on my grades.”
“And I got in on my...?”
He shifts uncomfortably and pulls out his books.
Oh.My whole body floods with heat. He knows we had to pay out the nose so I could come here. Not that everyone else didn’t have to pay, but my payments were more like bribes since I don’t meet the requisite GPA and honor roll requirements. That must be what everyone is thinking. That I’m too stupid to be here. That I’m the idiot the teachers have to put up with so they can get their money. Screw that. I grab my book bag and stand.
Dev touches my arm. “Wait. Don’t go. That was a shitty thing to bring up. I didn’t mean it.”
I jerk away. “Yes, you did.”
“I meant...” He shakes his head. “I don’t know, I’m an asshole. Sahil’s always telling me so. I just didn’t believe him.”
“He and I would get along really well.”
He tugs me down into a seat. “Yeah, you probably would. Now sit down so we can study, please.”
I hesitate, but don’t put my stuff back down.
“I don’t think you’re stupid,” Dev says.
“Wow. Do they have a class on giving compliments? You could be the professor.”
“Shit, I know I’m bad at this.” He rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands and meets my gaze. “Look, I think you’re smarterthan you realize. Funnier too. And half the guys on my Quidditch team were asking for my ‘hot friend’s number’ at the next practice. So you clearly have more going for you than most of the people here, including me. Okay? Can we study Raphael now?”
He turns away and flips through the flash cards. I stand there frozen. Dev thinks I’m smart. And... wait, his teammates think I’mhot? Does he think that too? I debate retorting—or asking him which guys he’s talking about—but he’s gripping the flash cards so tightly that they’re starting to bend.
“Thanks for showing the room to me, Dev.” I drop my book bag on the floor.
He shoves the flash cards into my hands. “It’s your turn to match the art to the cards. And no cheating.”
Chapter
17
Our flash cards do the trick. I’m shocked when Dr. Lotfihands me back the test the following week and there’s an 80 percent circled in green ink. I got a B-. Sure, it might be the lowest possible B-, but it’s the highest I’ve ever scored in art history! I’ve never been so proud of a grade before. I didn’t think I had it in me.
Unsurprisingly, Dev got a 98 percent, along with aNice!in big letters across the top margin. Dev leans over to see my grade and I have a sudden urge to rip my paper away. His eyebrows lift and for a second I’m certain he’s going to make some sarcastic comment. But he only whispers, “Not bad.”
When class ends, he follows me into the hallway.
