sending chills all through my body. "All we are is friends." He backed up a step, and oxygen whooshed in at me from all angles. "I'll keep telling myself that, if that's what you want me to do," he said solemnly. He backed all the way out of the alcove, never taking his eyes off mine, and was gone.
PERFECTLY GOOD EXPLANATIONS
Sunday night, Sabine was in the shower in our adjoining bathroom and I finally felt free to open an e-mail that had been sitting in my inbox all day. An e-mail from Dash. I don't know whether it was the fact that I had seen it there that morning, or whether it was the things he had said to me at the Driscoll, but I hadn't been able to stop thinking about him all day. Knowing that a guy like Dash could like a girl like me was intoxicating. I'll admit it. And as much as I tried to lock him out of my thoughts and conjure up Josh, Dash kept pounding his way back in. It was amazing how thinking about someone could make me feel like the scum of the earth, but totally exhilarated at the same time. What the e-mail could possibly contain, I had no idea, but I was so nervous as I attempted to open it that my fingers slipped off the mouse from all the sweat. I took a deep breath, wiped my hands on my jeans, and opened the e-mail.
Reed, It was good to see you last night. Hope the rest of your weekend goes well. Dash Okay. What the hell did that mean? Had I really waited all day to be alone to read that crap? Maybe it was some sort of dig at my "just friends" thing. Maybe he was showing me how very well he could play along. Was he mocking me? I was just reading it over again, as if there could be any hidden meaning in so few words, when the door to my room opened behind me. I slapped the laptop closed without even thinking about it. Thank God I did. Noelle was on top of me in less than two seconds. "Secret pen pal?" she asked wryly, eyeing the computer. I retasted the turkey club I'd had for lunch right about then. "What? No. Why? I-"
The door opened again and this time it was Portia. She was sucking on a huge iced coffee and looked wired enough to power the whole dorm. "Check your e-mail! I just forwarded you something!" The last thing I wanted to do was open my computer. But Noelle was temporarily distracted by Portia's manic state, so I quickly popped it open and deleted Dash's message. Way too close for my comfort. At the top of my inbox was a forwarded message from Portia titled "FW: LEGACY LIVES!" "What's this?" "Open the attachment!" Portia demanded, taking a drag on her oversize purple straw. Her pupils were like pinpoints. I clicked the attachment. An Adobe file opened on my screen. A scanned-in image of what looked like a very expensive, hand-lettered invitation. An invitation to the Legacy. October 31st. Location TBD. Entry tokens to follow.
"One of my friends at Dalton sent it to me. They all got them in the mail yesterday," Portia informed us, wide-eyed. "Is it some kind of hoax, or is it not canceled? And how come we didn't get any?" "I told you guys someone would throw it," Noelle said, casually checking her hair in the mirror above my dresser. She lifted it back from her face and sucked in her already perfect cheeks, checking herself out from side to side. "I'm sure our invites will come tomorrow." "You think? Oh my God. Thank God!" Portia trilled.
"Senior year without the Legacy would have sucked." I smiled for them, but inside I couldn't help feeling stepped on. So much for the Billings Masquerade idea. Everyone was obviously going to want to go to the Legacy. Where I couldn't, in fact, go at all. What kind of Billings president couldn't even get into the biggest party of the year? The lame kind, I supposed. "Hey! That's a nice shot of you and Cheyenne!" Portia practically shouted.
My heart constricted. I turned around to follow her gaze and had to close my computer lid to see what she was pointing at. There, pinned to the mostly bare bulletin board behind my desk, was the
PERFECTLY GOOD EXPLANATIONS
Sunday night, Sabine was in the shower in our adjoining bathroom and I finally felt free to open an e-mail that had been sitting in my inbox all day. An e-mail from Dash. I don't know whether it was the fact that I had seen it there that morning, or whether it was the things he had said to me at the Driscoll, but I hadn't been able to stop thinking about him all day. Knowing that a guy like Dash could like a girl like me was intoxicating. I'll admit it. And as much as I tried to lock him out of my thoughts and conjure up Josh, Dash kept pounding his way back in. It was amazing how thinking about someone could make me feel like the scum of the earth, but totally exhilarated at the same time. What the e-mail could possibly contain, I had no idea, but I was so nervous as I attempted to open it that my fingers slipped off the mouse from all the sweat. I took a deep breath, wiped my hands on my jeans, and opened the e-mail.
Reed, It was good to see you last night. Hope the rest of your weekend goes well. Dash Okay. What the hell did that mean? Had I really waited all day to be alone to read that crap? Maybe it was some sort of dig at my "just friends" thing. Maybe he was showing me how very well he could play along. Was he mocking me? I was just reading it over again, as if there could be any hidden meaning in so few words, when the door to my room opened behind me. I slapped the laptop closed without even thinking about it. Thank God I did. Noelle was on top of me in less than two seconds. "Secret pen pal?" she asked wryly, eyeing the computer. I retasted the turkey club I'd had for lunch right about then. "What? No. Why? I-"
The door opened again and this time it was Portia. She was sucking on a huge iced coffee and looked wired enough to power the whole dorm. "Check your e-mail! I just forwarded you something!" The last thing I wanted to do was open my computer. But Noelle was temporarily distracted by Portia's manic state, so I quickly popped it open and deleted Dash's message. Way too close for my comfort. At the top of my inbox was a forwarded message from Portia titled "FW: LEGACY LIVES!" "What's this?" "Open the attachment!" Portia demanded, taking a drag on her oversize purple straw. Her pupils were like pinpoints. I clicked the attachment. An Adobe file opened on my screen. A scanned-in image of what looked like a very expensive, hand-lettered invitation. An invitation to the Legacy. October 31st. Location TBD. Entry tokens to follow.
"One of my friends at Dalton sent it to me. They all got them in the mail yesterday," Portia informed us, wide-eyed. "Is it some kind of hoax, or is it not canceled? And how come we didn't get any?" "I told you guys someone would throw it," Noelle said, casually checking her hair in the mirror above my dresser. She lifted it back from her face and sucked in her already perfect cheeks, checking herself out from side to side. "I'm sure our invites will come tomorrow." "You think? Oh my God. Thank God!" Portia trilled.
"Senior year without the Legacy would have sucked." I smiled for them, but inside I couldn't help feeling stepped on. So much for the Billings Masquerade idea. Everyone was obviously going to want to go to the Legacy. Where I couldn't, in fact, go at all. What kind of Billings president couldn't even get into the biggest party of the year? The lame kind, I supposed. "Hey! That's a nice shot of you and Cheyenne!" Portia practically shouted.
My heart constricted. I turned around to follow her gaze and had to close my computer lid to see what she was pointing at. There, pinned to the mostly bare bulletin board behind my desk, was the
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