every few steps, she’d turn around and see me following her with my eyes, and she’d say, “Go on, Ryan Dean. Get dressed.”
But I watched her until I couldn’t see her anymore.
I went inside. I could hear the guys upstairs noisily getting ready to storm the mess hall. I paused beside the girls’ door and looked through the window to see if Mrs. Singer was there. For some stupid reason, I wanted to say thanks to her, like she’d lifted the curse or cast some love spell over Annie.
I know. That was dumb.
I pushed the door open and stuck my head inside. The hallway was dark, but I saw Mrs. Singer standing at the far end, just staring at me. She looked like Mary Todd Lincoln . . . and not just because she had the big-black- dress thing going on; I mean, she
I said, “Thanks,” and slipped back upstairs.
Chapter Eighty-Two
SEANIE AND JP DIDN’T SIT near us at dinner that night.
It didn’t matter to me.
Annie and I played “feet” under the table. We hardly ate anything at all because we just stared at each other, and I could tell it started to annoy Joey and Isabel that we were so focused in our own thing—it was like the rest of our friends didn’t exist.
The next couple of days were kind of like that: Mine and Annie’s universe got smaller and quieter.
Seanie didn’t say much to me.
I know he was mad about my starting that fight with JP at the lake, and how Seanie had to take some punches himself when he got between us. JP had long since stopped talking to me, and Megan just moped around like she was so depressed.
Yeah, she didn’t talk to me either.
Oh. And neither did Chas—ever since last Sunday night and the consequence and Screaming Ned, and me making Chas cry when I confessed that Megan and I had been fooling around.
He didn’t even put forth the effort to call me Pussboy or Asswing anymore.
Nothing.
Joey told me that Megan had broken up with Chas and it was all because of me. So, if I threw in the fact that I’d caught Mrs. Singer and Mr. Farrow practically copulating right there in the O-Hall stairwell, I figured all I’d need to do was publicly out Casey Palmer, then the entire state of Oregon, minus Annie Altman and Joey Cosentino, would want me dead.
I was on thin ice, but I didn’t care.
Chapter Eighty-Three
THE DAY BEFORE HALLOWEEN, WE had another rugby match.
We played at our own field, on Wednesday after classes, so Annie got to be there.
Our opposition was a club team from Southern California called the Pumas that had come up on tour to play against teams in the Pacific Northwest, where everyone knows we play a tougher game. None of us really liked playing against club teams; they were notorious cheaters as far as things like player eligibility were concerned, and most club coaches’ only priority was winning, so they’d do anything unethical to get there. Coach M knew it too, but it was preseason and we all wanted to play anyway.
Besides that, Southern California? Give me a break. Saying you play rugby in Southern California is like saying you surf in Colorado.
Dude.
But they were tough, and that’s probably because, to me, it looked like they had some players who had been out of high school for a couple years and were married and had mortgages and tattoos and children of their own.
We ended up beating them pretty badly, though, 42–12, and the coolest thing was that Coach M said he wasn’t going to let anyone wear Kevin’s number for the rest of the season.
Kevin stayed on the sidelines wearing the number four jersey with his arm in a sling. That’s probably what pumped us up the most for the game, even though I knew half the guys on the team didn’t want to talk to me, much less give me the ball.
Joey did, though, and I scored one time. But Joey was on fire that day and put in three tries by himself.
The boys on the other team got pretty hotheaded, and a couple times it looked like they were going to try to start fighting, but we kept it under control and had a good game of it. Their coach ended up in such a bad mood, though, that he made them leave the social early and get back on their bus to head up to Seattle. That was fine with me, because we all got out of there early enough to give me hope that I’d catch up to Annie in the mess hall before we had to check in at our dorms.
It was dark, and I was afraid she’d already gone home for the night, so as soon as I could, I took off running for the mess hall. And JP was right behind me.
“Hey, fucker,” JP said.
I knew he was there.
I stopped and turned around. It was so quiet and cold. There was no one else around, and I could just barely hear the sounds of the students who were still having dinner in the mess hall.
“I’m not going to fight about it anymore, JP,” I said. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Screw you, Ryan Dean.”
“Look. I didn’t mean it when I said I was sorry the other day. But I do now. I’m sorry, JP.”
JP didn’t answer.
“We might as well just find some other way to waste our time, because, trust me, it’s over,” I said.
“Fuck you.”
This would have been a perfect time and place for him to absolutely kill me, and I knew it.
Trouble is, I’m pretty sure he did, too.
Oh, well, I thought, I’d gotten my shots in on JP enough in the past week, and I was way ahead on the scorecard. Worst of all, I knew I deserved it.
“You want to punch me, JP?” I put my hands out. “Go ahead. I told you I’m not going to fight you anymore, and I meant it.”
Just then, Seanie came up from behind, totally out of the dark.
He was out of breath from running after us. “What are you guys doing?”
JP walked off without answering, straight for the boys’ dorm.
“What the fuck, Ryan Dean? We used to all be friends.
“Seanie,” I said. “I didn’t do anything this time. I swear to God.” I followed after him. “Seanie, listen to me. Just a second.”
But he wouldn’t stop, so I just let him go.
Chapter Eighty-Four
