Mean Girls. Louise Rozett

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СКАЧАТЬ No answer. Locked.

      Dammit. Was it … maybe his room was number eight?

      She found it and knocked. She shouldn’t be here. She should be trying to fix things with Johnny. She was on the brink of running when Max opened the door.

      Becca reminded herself that this was the way to be happy. To have who everyone wanted. And not risk real heartbreak.

      She threw her arms around Max. “Oh, thank God you opened the door. I’ve been looking everywhere!”

      “Becca, what are you doing?”

      “I’m so sorry. I … I just …”

      He stepped back, throwing her arms from him. “Stop.”

      “I love you. And I mean it.” The words sounded unnatural.

      It was the first time she’d said it to anyone. He still looked livid, but she could see in his eyes that he was working to understand what she’d said. She took his hand to squeeze it for emphasis. The emotions from a moment before were threatening to come back.

      “I do … and I know you don’t believe me, Max. But I do. I just … don’t know what to do with it. I’ve never been in love before. I just don’t know how to act.” She let go of his hand and stepped backward. She felt herself mean the words she said. But not toward Max. “I’m so sorry. I guess I just hoped you’d say it if I did that.” Her voice was small. She wasn’t this person. Why was she feeling like this? “I feel like everyone knows you don’t like me that much and it’s so embarrassing.” Becca drew her eyebrows together, and let her hands drop to her sides.

      Her knees felt week. She succumbed to it and sat down. She stared at the floor and tightened her jaw. This wasn’t where she wanted to be. Not with Max, not on his floor, not in love with someone she feared wouldn’t love her, too.

      “Becca, I’m sorry. I can’t … say that back to you.”

      She shook her head. “I don’t need you to. I shouldn’t have said it.”

      There was silence while she breathed deeply and tried to keep the tears at bay. She was using every muscle in her body to not scream and burst into shuddering, pathetic tears.

      “What should we do now?” he asked. “Are we …”

      “I want to stay with you,” she said. “I’m really sorry.”

      “If we do, you can’t do things like that.”

      She nodded and tightened her stomach. “I know.”

      chapter 15 me

      IT WAS THE FIRST DAY WE HAD PAINTING SINCE Halloween. It’d be the first time I’d seen Max since he walked me to my dorm. I tried hard not to wonder what it would be like, where our conversations would go now. We’d fallen asleep in each other’s arms, as lame as that sounds, and now … how were we going to act? How was I going to make an idiot out of myself this time instead of being cool and collected?

      I shivered as I thought of Becca. She probably wouldn’t feel nervous at all. She’d probably smile and toss her ribbonlike hair over her porcelain shoulder and say something clever and seductive. I imagined myself trying it, and cringed with my own embarrassment.

      All I’d wanted to do was get under everyone’s skin, and just tell them what had happened. But I didn’t. I kept it to myself.

      A tall, lean boy with Ray-Ban glasses walked in. The girls in the class stopped talking immediately as they took in his good looks. He scooted the glasses up his head.

      “Hey, guys,” he said as he set down a laptop bag. “I’m Isaac. Frank—Professor Crawley—is my uncle, and he had a family thing he needed to do this week, so I’m covering for him. I, incidentally, am thrilled to be avoiding the family thing. So we’ll have fun this week. Just so you know, I’m not just some random nephew, either. I just graduated from Corcoran in D.C. with a bachelor of fine arts. I’ll be headed back in a year to get started on my master’s.”

      The class was silent. The girls were still gaping, and the guys were sizing him up. Max walked in and took his seat next to me while Isaac dug through his laptop bag for the attendance.

      “Who’s that?” Max asked me.

      I nearly seized up. “Uh. Professor Crawley’s son. No, I mean nephew. He just graduated college and he’s covering for Crawley.”

      I didn’t need to be so stupid when I talked to Max. It would be nice if just sometimes, I could say things without stumbling through them.

      Max nodded.

      Once we were given our assignment, which was to paint abstractly using at least two different kinds of brushstrokes, the classroom was buzzing with whispered conversation. Most of it about how hot our sub was. Max was listening to headphones and furrowing his brow at his painting. After half an hour passed, I came to terms with the fact that we wouldn’t be talking today.

      I was just laying Cadmium Red Light to the underside of a Cerulean blue stroke when Isaac approached me.

      “That’s awesome.”

      “Mine?”

      Isaac nodded and squinted as he leaned in to look at my colors. “That’s really awesome. I gotta say, I usually hate the look of colors straight out of the tube, but you’re doing something really interesting here. Is there any kind of inspiration for this? Like, what’s going through your mind as you do this?”

      Max. Just a whole lot of Max. “Nothing really. I’m just … painting I guess.”

      Isaac looked at me through narrowed eyes, chewing on the end of his Ray-Bans. “Are you in love?”

      I noticed now that the whole class was listening. Even Max had taken off his headphones.

      “Love? No, not at all. God no.” Slick.

      “I see … a lot of torture here. All these reds … the Alizarin with the Cadmium, especially over here,” he indicated a sharp, narrow line in the corner. “This is amazing. You really have a gift.”

      “Oh … no, I don’t even paint. This doesn’t even look abstract like it’s supposed to. It’s just … a mess.”

      He raised his eyebrows and smiled. “It doesn’t matter. It’s working.”

      I was flattered and was brimming with pride, but I couldn’t enjoy it. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me, and could practically hear their loathing thoughts about me.

      “Looks like you’re a painter now.” He smiled and winked.

      I smiled back. “Thanks.”

      As Isaac walked around, the classroom’s eyes shifted from me to my painting, I imagined then. They probably all wanted to see what Isaac had been gushing about. They’d probably decide there was nothing special about it, and that they couldn’t see what the fuss was over.

      I wished I had СКАЧАТЬ