Part VII #4
She whirled around. Connor stood at the end of the hall closer to the lunchroom. He seemed startled to see her…but not exactly angry or upset like he’d seemed outside during the fire drill around his friends.
He took a few steps closer.
“Hey,” he said softly. “What are you doing?”
“I’m trying to get into this room,” she said, facing the knob again.
“Why?”
“Someone’s supposed to be in here,” she blurted. “Someone I want to talk to.”
She sensed Connor coming closer. Then he tried to twist the knob, too. The oatmeal scent of the shampoo-conditioner combo he always used wafted into her nostrils. Not long ago, Vi loved that smell, but today it seemed kind of overpowering and fake.
“Pretty sure it’s just a closet, anyway,” Connor said. He faced her. He put his hands in his pockets sheepishly. “Vi…maybe you and I should talk. About…us.”
Vi’s fingers curled tightly around the detention hall pass. “Huh?”
“Things happened so fast. But maybe we should, like, think stuff through some more.”
“What do you mean?”
A little smile played on his lips. “I don’t know. Like…I miss you.”
For a moment, her lips wouldn’t move. Say yes, her body screamed. This is what you want. This is your happy ending.
But then she thought about what Max had said. And then she looked inside herself and realized she liked what Max had said. Better than what Connor was saying, as a matter of fact.
“No,” she said. “No, I don’t think so.”
Connor backed up a tiny bit. One half of his mouth curled into a confused smile. “Huh?”
“You were right all along. We are better apart.” The words came out very fast. Probably because she was afraid that, if she spoke slower, she wouldn’t say it at all.
Connor’s jaw tightened. His mouth grew very small. He tilted his chin up and hitched his backpack higher on his shoulder. “I was only offering because you seemed so wrecked about it,” he said acidly. “Everyone says so. I was just trying to be nice.”
Then he walked away fast. His shoelace was untied, and he almost tripped over it. Vi watched him with a numb sort of awe. Then she looked down at herself. Her hands were shaking.
“Now, that should make you feel better.”
Vi whirled around once again. Max stood at the other end of the hall, near the National Merit poster with her face on it. He held a large, blocky suitcase in one hand—the typewriter, perhaps—and he leaned against a bank of lockers. Vi could guess how long he’d been standing there.
She felt her cheeks flush. Her whole body felt warm, actually. She was so happy, suddenly, that he wasn’t a delusion.
But then she remembered. She pointed at him vigorously. “You are not part of the repairs department. They’re in the front office, not here.”
He held up his hands. “You got me.”
“Why did you say that you were? You almost got me in trouble again!”
He paused to scratch behind his ear. “You came in and started talking…and I just wanted to talk to you, I guess.”
She pointed at the door. “What were you even doing in there?”
“What did it look like? Writing poems.”
“But how are you allowed to be here?”
“My teacher says I can work in there instead because it’s quieter.”
Vi blinked, letting it soak in. “Why would you lie?”
He shook his head vehemently. “I shouldn’t have said all that.
It’s just…the moment got away from me. You came in and started talking, and I’ve always wanted to talk to you.
But our paths never crossed. I tried to tell you the truth, but then I thought that, if I told you I wasn’t the school repairs-whatever department, you’d turn around and leave, and I didn’t want that.
The truth is, I’ve noticed you for a couple of years now, but that might have been creepy…
” He paused to breathe. “I’m sorry. Seriously.
I’m so sorry, and this is definitely the strangest thing I’ve ever done in my life. ”
Vi felt her jaw clench. “Well. You should be sorry.”
But then her anger evaporated. It was, she realized, the most romantic thing that had ever happened to her.
She looked at Max again, only to see that he was looking at her, too. Standing up, he was quite tall, and his shorts were too long, and his knees were knobby, and his shoes looked enormous. But all rolled together, it was kind of adorable.
He took a step closer to her, his chin tucked. Her heart started to beat hard for all the right reasons. Then she cleared her throat.
“You know, I could write a really good revenge essay about you,” she said. She even thought of a good name for it. Something about a poet. And faking being someone who could repair things—though, ironically, maybe he did repair something.
“Well, never show it to me,” he said, now right next to her. “I warned you about that, remember?”
“I hope I never have to write it at all,” she said.
They smiled at each other. His typewriter suitcase made a wedge between them, blocking them from getting too close. Then Vi heard Mr. Hill calling for her down the hall, and she knew she had to go.
But that was okay. She’d find Max again. The school wasn’t that big.
And there was always this strange little room behind this strange little door.