Autobiography of Us by Aria Beth Sloss Page A

don’t know what’s wrong with everything you just said, I’m not sure I feel like telling you. I’ve had a very long day, and, frankly, I’m wiped out.”
    In the tent, Oliver would be looking for me with his sad eyes, Alex singing into the waiting crowd. It was Alex I’d heard, of course. I could have picked that voice out of a choir of thousands. I stood up. “I should get back to the party.”
    “Rebecca.” It was the first time he’d said my name. “You don’t actually think you have everyone fooled.”
    “Excuse me?”
    “The only difference between you and me is that I’m honest about my ambitions.”
    “We’re not even the littlest bit alike.”
    “Now you’re saying things just to spite me.” He sighed again. “Hardly playing fair, Dr. Madden .”
    Something cool slid across my chest, an ice cube tracing a damp arc across a countertop. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    “Doctor, doctor,” he sang, “I’ve got a pain in my ass.”
    “You had it right, you know. You’re awful.”
    “What if I told you I got a look at your schedule last fall.”
    “I’d say you’re lying.”
    “It just so happens I have my connections in Dean Richards’s office. His secretaries can be quite, shall we say,” he chuckled, “flexible.”
    “I can’t for the life of me think why you’d care.”
    “I was intrigued,” he said thoughtfully. “There you are, marching around campus with your friend the Queen Bee and the rest of her minions. But you and I both know you’re nothing like them, not a bit. And I’m not talking about the question of filthy lucre here either.” He rapped his knuckles gently against the table. “Nothing more common than money, for Christ’s sake. No—you piqued my curiosity, which I’ll have you know isn’t so easy to do.”
    “I had no intention of doing anything of the kind.”
    “What I find fascinating is that you thought you could keep it a secret. It took me a while to see how deep the whole charade actually went,” he continued. “Smart, the way you’d arranged things. Genius, really. Chem first thing in the morning this spring and calculus in the fall, like you were this idiot freshman or something, snapping out of bed at the most ungodly hours. It nagged at me, see, why you’d want to get up at the crack of, and then—” He clapped his hands together. “Well, let’s just say I managed to put two and two together. You do it so no one notices you’re gone. Slip out early in the morning, with no one the wiser for it.”
    “I don’t know why it should be anyone’s business whether I’m taking chem or not,” I said hotly. “Least of all yours.”
    “Now, now. So long as you live in this town, it’s everybody’s business—you know that as well as I do. Which is why you did such a superb job of keeping it under wraps.”
    “This has been an entirely illuminating conversation—”
    “God, no,” he interrupted. “Please don’t. The Miss Innocent bit makes my head pound. And you can’t leave now, not when I’ve been so generous.” He managed to sound genuinely wounded. “Invited you into my cave, given freely of my cigarettes.”
    “I really do have to go.”
    “Come on, have another finger of something. It’s the imported kind, the good stuff.”
    I shook my head. “I’ve had too much to drink.”
    “Now you’re being silly.”
    “I’m only saying what I think.”
    “What you think , my dear , is precisely what you just accused me of thinking.”
    “I’ve forgotten what that is,” I said. My head had begun to spin again.
    “You are drunk,” he said kindly. “I believe you were accusing me of looking down on everyone in this town.” Both our cigarettes had gone out by now. The sleeve of his pink shirt was so close I could have touched it by lifting one finger. “Kettle and pot, gorgeous. You’re the one who thinks you’re better than all of us. Always have. I’ve known that about you all along.”
    What was I supposed