Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
When the day of our presentation arrives, Will’s late to class. Because of course he is.
Professor Gene pulls me aside before he begins his lesson. “I’m afraid I have some unfortunate news.”
My stomach sinks with the sort of feeling I imagine sailors have right before their ships capsize. It’s brutal and gut wrenching. Something’s wrong.
“Mr. Kendricks is no longer going to be part of the volunteer program. He’s handed the reins entirely to you. Of course, that means you may need to rework your presentation, and I’ll give you some time to do that.”
The words are foreign, and I lack the skills to interpret them. “He quit? How? Why? You said it was both of us or neither of us.”
Is he actually going to screw me over here?
“Yes, well, he and I discussed that, and I don’t feel it’s fair to you, especially this far into the semester. So you’ll take on the volunteer load alone, and you and I will work together to decide what’s doable from here. It’ll work out, Ms. Sullivan. Never fear.”
He offers a small smile, then dismisses me back to my table in a state of stupor. I sit through the class not really listening to a word of the lecture, almost entirely oblivious to Banks’s presence next to me.
I can’t focus on anything.
Will wouldn’t just quit. He’s far too stubborn. Something happened.
My mind refuses to accept this.
After class, I march straight to his dorm.
I knock on the door, but he doesn’t answer. When I turn around, fuming, I nearly run into him. He stands there with a bag of food from one of the sandwich shops on campus, staring at me like I’m the last person he expected to see here.
“What are you doing?” he asks, eyes narrowing.
“I could ask you the same thing. You abandoned me.” The word is out before I can soften it.
“Abandoned?” He shakes his head. “What are you talking about? You’ve wanted me to quit all along.” He digs his key from his pocket. “Wish granted.”
I take a step back, letting him pass but keeping close behind. “You did this on purpose. To embarrass me on the day of the presentations.”
He shakes his head, but he doesn’t argue. “Think whatever you want, Opal.”
When he goes to unlock the door, I see his knuckles.
Time stops.
The walls collapse around me. His skin is scabbed over, red and raw.
Fresh.
He catches me noticing and pulls his sleeve down, pushing into his dorm.
“What did you do?” I demand, my hands shaking. In all the years I’ve known him, I’ve never seen Will violent. But this evidence is impossible to ignore. “You punched Banks? Please tell me you didn’t.”
He looks back at me. One brow quirks up, but he doesn’t respond.
His jaw flexes, giving me my answer. Answer enough, anyway.
“The program is yours,” he says. “The grade bump and all. And I’ll keep my distance from now on. You win.”
“What are you talking about? What’s going on? What happened? Talk to me.”
He opens his mouth, holding the door and moving it back and forth like he’s trying to decide whether or not to shut it.
His eyes flick to my wrist. To the bracelet.
Eventually, he just says, “I think we’re spending too much time together. Never a good thing.”
The words sound rehearsed. As if he practiced them.
Then he shuts the door.
And every bright light from earlier dims considerably.