Sage breaks the silence. “Well... that’s exciting for him. Maybethis is exactly what he needs. And you’re feeling good about it?”
“I am, yeah. It was a shock for sure. But it would be really fun to have Will in America. I can hardly believe it.”
My mood falters when I look at the flower arrangement. I’m reminded again of Dev’s words.
But mostly I don’t like him because he’s not good enough for you. He’s not even close to what you deserve. And I think he knows it. That’s why he does all this.
I glance at Dev, hoping for a small smile or positive word, but he doesn’t look at me. He’s too busy packing up his stuff.
Chapter
35
Sage was right—taking a five-day vacation so close to theend of the semester wasnota smart choice. We’ve returned just in time for the ramp up into finals week. The halls are quieter, the classes are tense, and the dining hall is never more than half-full since students are too busy studying to bother with food.
And, as usual, I’m in over my head.
I have a British lit paper due next Monday, my psych and chem finals that Tuesday, and a huge art history paper due next Thursday. My brain is bursting with to-dos when I’m not texting with Will about America or worrying about how this move is going to go. All around me are tiny noises that scratch at my mind. Shoes shuffling, pages turning, small sighs and whispers. It’s hard to concentrate with everything else going on. I rub my hands over my face and push back from the crowded library table.
I heave a deep breath in the hallway. I don’t want to go back to my room yet. Sage is there writing her British lit analysis and she’s going to want total silence. What I’d like is to study with Dev. I don’t know where his head is at, though. He hasn’t said anythingabout Will moving to America. Honestly, he hasn’t said much at all this last week.
When I don’t find him in his room, I go looking in the only other place I can think of: his secret study room. I have to backtrack twice, but eventually I find it. The fire is roaring and Dev is there by himself, head down, earphones in, surrounded by books. He doesn’t see me. I stand in the doorway, watching him. He’s tapping his foot like he always does when he’s studying. The room is hot and he’s wearing only a thin T-shirt—it’s one of his favorites, the blue one with the logo of the Indian national cricket team on it. He’s hunched over his desk, the curve of his spine and shoulder blades visible through the fabric. Dev isn’t muscular—he’s skinny and tall and a bit gangly—but he is fit. It must be all that cricket and Quidditch.
He looks up and jumps. Heat rushes to my face. Oh god, does he know I was staring at him? He pulls out his earphones.
“Hey. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I hurry into the room and sit down across from him. “Just trying to find someplace to study. I think you’ve found the only quiet place in the manor.”
“Probably because no one knows it exists.”
“Luckily for us,” I say, and then flinch. That sounded like flirting. “Do you mind if I join you?”
“Uh, no.” He pushes some of his books out of my way but I notice his hesitation. I’m hoping he’ll ask me what I’m studying right now, or even suggest that we work together, but instead he puts his earphones back in. It feels like a rebuke.
I pull out my chemistry notes. I’ve been helping Dev organizehis chicken-scratch notes lately and it’s taught me how to take better notes myself. I used to not write much, but now I write down everything the teacher says, plus my own thoughts and examples. That means I basically never stop writing in my classes. I’ve already warned Dev that I’m suing if I develop carpal tunnel syndrome.
I’ve also started outlining every chapter of the textbook and then using both sets of notes to study. Dev convinced me to start studying way sooner than I used to (the night before the test) so I can memorize the notes rather than only read over them. It’s ahellof a lot of work. And I hate it. But I got a B on my last chemistry quiz so I haven’t complained. Well, that’s not true. I’vedefinitelycomplained, but not as vehemently as I could have.
I start reviewing chapter eighteen (chemical thermodynamics) but my brain immediately shuts down. These last chapters are the hardest in the entire book, plus the final is cumulative so I have to restudy everything. Professors are the spawn of Satan. I inspect Dev, but he doesn’t notice. I tap his book.
He stops chewing his gum but doesn’t take out his earphones.
Okay.
“Hey, do you want to study together?” I ask, my voice loud to compensate for his music.
“Um, maybe later, okay?” He goes back to highlighting his notes without waiting for my response.
I sit back. Dev never acts like this.
“Is everything okay?”
He huffs in annoyance. “Not really. I’m trying to study and this crazy girl keeps interrupting me.”
“Maybe we should talk.”
“I’m busy right now, Ellie. And stressed. I need to ace all my finals to make sure I keep my 4.0.”
