Chapter 28
I try not to let Sumner’s words bother me, but they do.
Fueled by a mix of raw determination and spite, I vow to obliterate him on our next history test. I calculate how many points I need to overtake spot twenty-one, then figure out how many I’ll need to reclaim twenty. I’ll destabilize his superiority and prove I am not distracted by William.
I spend the next evening reviewing the feedback Mrs. Vidar-Tett gave my UPenn essay. Sabine and Inessa invite me to study with them most nights, and despite my better judgment, I find myself searching the commons for Sumner. If he sees I haven’t lost focus, then it allows me to win back my dignity.
Unfortunately, Sumner rarely shows his presence.
And as if to one-up me yet again, the trophy disappears from Hyde the next evening.
“Three weeks,” Sabine says encouragingly as our team gathers in one corner of the student lounge. “That’s the longest stretch we’ve had this year. And once we steal it back, we’ll break that record.”
When the weekend rolls around, Sabine, Inessa, and I catch up on volunteer hours by organizing donations at the local food bank.
Once we finish, we scour secondhand stores until we find Halloween costumes.
I stumble upon a cheap black shirtdress and fake white beard and announce I’ll attend Ivernia’s Halloween party as Galileo, while Inessa unearths a pair of overalls for a Mario costume.
Sabine decides to plaster painted handprints on a white shirt and call herself “the dirty window in Mr. Westergate’s classroom. ”
And when Saturday arrives, I go all out for Inessa’s Halloween birthday.
Sabine and I bake a dozen cupcakes in our kitchenette and decorate her door once she’s gone to bed. We are not subtle. Sabine directs where I should hang streamers, and on my fourth time shushing her, Inessa goes, “I can hear you!”
“No, you can’t!” Sabine calls back, which brings upon a fresh wave of laughter.
Now the three of us are occupying space in the athletic center as Ivernia’s Halloween party takes shape around us.
Thumping pop music pulses through the speakers.
Scattered smog machines release hissing smoke at rotating intervals, which results in creating a spooky, foggy haze.
A giant mirror ball sends light fragments scattering through the room, and the entire basketball court is saturated in moody purple and orange lights.
Some students sit on the bleachers, others gather on the dance floor, and many take advantage of the candy and soft drinks spread across long folding tables.
Three people have asked me if I’m goth Santa and one person assumes I’m a monk. Every time this happens, I hold up my pretend telescope I crafted from an empty paper towel roll, but it doesn’t help.
William mentioned he’d meet me here, so I’m surprised he hasn’t shown.
Analiese arrived earlier with the newspaper crew, stopping briefly to say hello before rejoining them.
I wonder if she’s also felt the distance this year.
We both have a lot going on, so maybe it’s natural our lives wouldn’t intersect the way they used to, but it doesn’t make me feel better.
Gareth Shep strolls over to us as Inessa adjusts her homemade Mario cap. “If I throw a banana peel at you,” he says, eyes twinkling, “will you slide right into me?”
“Stop it. No. Absolutely not.” She spins Gareth around and shoves him away. “Come back when you have a better line or when you mature five years, whichever happens first.”
Sabine clasps a hand over her mouth to prevent a stream of laughter from erupting. “Do you think he knows how that sounded?”
“Unfortunately, yes.” Her eyes land on someone entering through the double doors. “Oh shit. Guess the fencing team had a little too much fun.”
I follow her gaze toward the gymnasium doors and freeze.
Not only is William wearing the exact outfit I found him in, top hat and all, but he has two arms looped around Micah and Brayden.
That’s not the problem. His posture is loose, like his limbs are pliable pine needles, and his eyes are slightly unfocused.
Oh god. William is drunk.
It feels like I’ve missed a step going down stairs. Underage drinking is prohibited for obvious reasons, but students are sometimes secretive about it. Though certainly not at school-approved events in front of teachers who are currently supervising the function.
Analiese zeroes in on him from across the room. Shoot. If she’s noticed, then it’s only a matter of minutes until the faculty catches on.
I have to get him out of here.
“I’ll be right back,” I say, darting toward the entrance of the gym.
William’s bloodshot eyes light up when he sees me. “Delaney!” He slides his arms away from Brayden and Micah and stumbles toward me. “Wonderful. You’re here!”
I loop my arm through his and tug him out the double doors. The pop music transforms into a muffle as they close behind us.
“What are you doing?” I hiss. His shirt is half-untucked, hair messy in a way that’s so unlike him. All the refined elegance is gone. “Drinking? Are you kidding?”
He blinks. “Brayden thought—”
“New rule. Don’t entertain Brayden’s thoughts,” I say. “If the teachers pick up on this, you’re out of here. For good, William.” I yank on his sleeve. “I’m taking you back.”
Just then, the door reopens. I leap in front of William as though I am tall enough to hide the damage, but it’s only Sabine.
“Hey.” She looks at William, then at me. “Need help?”
“We’re fine,” I lie.
William simultaneously whines, “But I want to attend.”
“Bad idea,” Sabine jumps in. “Trust me. Ellerby’s in there.”
Before I can protest, she loops an arm through the crook of William’s elbow. I take the other side and together we start marching him out of the athletic building.
“Wait—” I stop walking. “Inessa.”
“Montfort asked her to dance.” She raises an eyebrow. “And I have it on good authority that she wanted to.”
“Well, still. Let’s hurry.” The last thing I want is to ditch her on her birthday.
What a mess.
The breeze blows back my fake beard, the ends tickling my neck. I don’t dare let go of William to adjust. He nicks the paper towel telescope from my pocket and peers through. Cranes his head to look at the moon. I give him a not-so-polite shove forward, and he cuts his gaze down to me.
“It’s not a big deal in London,” William mutters.
“Well, you’re not in London,” I snap. “And then where would you go if they expelled you?”
William’s jaw tightens. “Back to England.”
“Aw, c’mon, Enzo,” Sabine says gently. “You’d miss us.”
He doesn’t reply. I don’t either. There’s only so much we can say around other people. At least he still has enough sense to remember that.
This is not how I pictured the night going.
The Segner common room is empty. I dig into William’s coat pocket until I find his badge, then use it to scan us into the sleeping quarters. William starts toward one of the couches, but Sabine and I are quick to redirect.
“No way.” If anyone finds him on a couch in his state, it won’t be good news. “Upstairs. I’m serious.”
William reluctantly abides, mouth slipping into a frown as we jostle him through the door and up the stairs.
“You know,” he’s saying, “if you bossed yourself around like this, perhaps making decisions would come easier.”
We’ve reached the second-story landing. “What are you talking about?”
“You,” William says as he leans in close, the sharp tinge of alcohol on his breath. “Doing. What. You. Want.”
I ignore him as I extract his badge and scan us into room seventeen. William turns the knob as it beeps, swinging the door open and tripping through the entryway. Sumner startles at the sudden pandemonium.
My throat works around a swallow as he lunges to pause his live stream on his phone, which is balanced against a stack of textbooks.
He’s in gray athletic sweats and a plain black tee that hugs him nicely, but something’s different.
It’s not the hair. Or the glasses. The last time I saw him in a T-shirt had to be the rescue mission at the lake.
He’s still tall, lanky, though no longer built like a lamppost. There’s a bit of definition in his forearms. A new broadness to his chest. I’m positive crew has something to do with it.
He uses the controller in his hand to pause the video game on his flatscreen, then looks me up and down. “What’s up, Galileo.”
A tiny flutter stirs in my belly.
William shoves out of my grip and begins shrugging off his coat, tossing it haphazardly onto his desk chair. He yanks his cravat away from his neck and undoes the first few buttons on his shirt.
Sumner examines this display. “What’s going on?”
“A few different types of alcohol, it would seem.”
William kicks off his boots and flops back on his bed.
My eyes scan the room. It’s the first time I’ve set foot in here and, for some reason, it feels like unraveling a secret.
A not-so-grand reveal. Two twin beds are pushed against opposing walls with a built-in desk running between them, which overlooks a window displaying a direct view of the administration building and, beyond that, a picturesque view of the Adirondacks.
Sumner’s side is a mess, like gazing at a particularly complex equation.
My eyes aren’t sure where to land first. Textbooks, notebooks, and loose sheets of graph paper spill over his desk.
The squat trash can beside his bed is overflowing with snack wrappers and water bottles, and his TV and Xbox are propped on cardboard boxes, wires everywhere.
Sweatshirts, ties, and uniform shirts are draped in random places.
The back of his chair. The foot of his bed.
Strewn across the floor. There are even a few half-folded shirts next to the laptop on his desk.
And the most Sumner thing of all? A large whiteboard over his bed frame, equations inked in black dry-erase marker.
I scrunch my nose. When my eyes jump back to his, I find he’s already studying me.