“See you in my room after dinner.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
DUNCAN
EACH DOOR WAS PAINTED A DIFFERENT COLOR
Duncan turned off the CD. He had to work hard to bring his focus back to this year, and stop reliving last year.
As soon as he got to the bottom of the stairs, he could tell something was up. People were talking about an incident that happened on the senior girls’ floor. Nobody seemed to know what it was, but it was
something
. Duncan had a very hard time concentrating on the first classes of the year. He went to math, which was his favorite, but failed to show off in his usual way. He liked to let everyone else know how good he was from the beginning, but the truth was, they already knew. They had been going to school with him for years.
Between math and science—which involved a walk down one hall, then another smaller one leading outside, and finally down a tree-lined path to the science building—Duncankept his ears open. He heard the words
sick
and
fire
and
mouse
and
ambulance
, but had no idea if any of them pertained to what had happened on Daisy’s hall. He also kept his eyes open for Daisy—she had to be somewhere. But she was nowhere. He wished he had talked to her last night at dinner and asked about her class schedule. Even more than that, he wished he had let her in this morning. He would give anything to go back to that moment and make the other choice. He told himself over and over that he would apologize for this the next time he saw her. But the whole morning went by—and there was no sign of her anywhere. Just before lunch, he saw Abigail, a girl who knew Daisy but wasn’t deep into the social politics most of her friends were, so he asked if she’d seen her. She hadn’t, and she was still trying to figure out what had happened on the hall that morning. Basically, she was no help at all. He thought about asking other people where Daisy might be, but he didn’t want everyone talking about him, wondering why he was so interested in her all of a sudden.
When he didn’t see Daisy in the dining room—and it was one of his favorite lunches of all, grass-fed beef burgers from the Hudson Valley—he started to get worried. He wrapped up his food in napkins and left. He intended to go up to his room—he had almost an hour until his next class—and listen to more about Tim. But when he got to the top of the stairs, he did something reckless: he veered off toward the girls’ side. He couldn’t believe he was doingit even as he was actually doing it. He tried to look like he belonged there, which was ridiculous, but somehow it made him feel better. He rounded the corner, prepared for anything, and stopped short. The hall was empty, but what struck him the most was how totally different it looked from the boys’ hall.
The carpet was a bright but not tacky blue; the walls were yellow with painted vines and flowers here and there. There was a window seat that they didn’t have on their side with a plaid pillow and a small pile of books perched on top. Each door was painted a different color—mint green, bright orange, lavender. It reminded him a little of Dr. Seuss, and while it was so much nicer than their dingy grays and browns, he wasn’t entirely sure he would want to live there.
It certainly didn’t look like there had been any sort of disaster on the girls’ side this morning. He checked the carpet for blood and the walls for fire marks, which he knew was silly. Most of the girls should be at lunch, but one of the privileges of being a senior was that you were allowed to go back to your room at any time if you needed or wanted to as long as you didn’t miss class or another important activity. So if you wanted to eat lunch in your room, that was okay. Still, no one seemed to be around.
Duncan walked down the hall slowly and realized he had no idea which door might be Daisy’s. There were pictures and stickers and some big bows decorating the differentdoors, but no names. He wondered
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
DUNCAN
EACH DOOR WAS PAINTED A DIFFERENT COLOR
Duncan turned off the CD. He had to work hard to bring his focus back to this year, and stop reliving last year.
As soon as he got to the bottom of the stairs, he could tell something was up. People were talking about an incident that happened on the senior girls’ floor. Nobody seemed to know what it was, but it was
something
. Duncan had a very hard time concentrating on the first classes of the year. He went to math, which was his favorite, but failed to show off in his usual way. He liked to let everyone else know how good he was from the beginning, but the truth was, they already knew. They had been going to school with him for years.
Between math and science—which involved a walk down one hall, then another smaller one leading outside, and finally down a tree-lined path to the science building—Duncankept his ears open. He heard the words
sick
and
fire
and
mouse
and
ambulance
, but had no idea if any of them pertained to what had happened on Daisy’s hall. He also kept his eyes open for Daisy—she had to be somewhere. But she was nowhere. He wished he had talked to her last night at dinner and asked about her class schedule. Even more than that, he wished he had let her in this morning. He would give anything to go back to that moment and make the other choice. He told himself over and over that he would apologize for this the next time he saw her. But the whole morning went by—and there was no sign of her anywhere. Just before lunch, he saw Abigail, a girl who knew Daisy but wasn’t deep into the social politics most of her friends were, so he asked if she’d seen her. She hadn’t, and she was still trying to figure out what had happened on the hall that morning. Basically, she was no help at all. He thought about asking other people where Daisy might be, but he didn’t want everyone talking about him, wondering why he was so interested in her all of a sudden.
When he didn’t see Daisy in the dining room—and it was one of his favorite lunches of all, grass-fed beef burgers from the Hudson Valley—he started to get worried. He wrapped up his food in napkins and left. He intended to go up to his room—he had almost an hour until his next class—and listen to more about Tim. But when he got to the top of the stairs, he did something reckless: he veered off toward the girls’ side. He couldn’t believe he was doingit even as he was actually doing it. He tried to look like he belonged there, which was ridiculous, but somehow it made him feel better. He rounded the corner, prepared for anything, and stopped short. The hall was empty, but what struck him the most was how totally different it looked from the boys’ hall.
The carpet was a bright but not tacky blue; the walls were yellow with painted vines and flowers here and there. There was a window seat that they didn’t have on their side with a plaid pillow and a small pile of books perched on top. Each door was painted a different color—mint green, bright orange, lavender. It reminded him a little of Dr. Seuss, and while it was so much nicer than their dingy grays and browns, he wasn’t entirely sure he would want to live there.
It certainly didn’t look like there had been any sort of disaster on the girls’ side this morning. He checked the carpet for blood and the walls for fire marks, which he knew was silly. Most of the girls should be at lunch, but one of the privileges of being a senior was that you were allowed to go back to your room at any time if you needed or wanted to as long as you didn’t miss class or another important activity. So if you wanted to eat lunch in your room, that was okay. Still, no one seemed to be around.
Duncan walked down the hall slowly and realized he had no idea which door might be Daisy’s. There were pictures and stickers and some big bows decorating the differentdoors, but no names. He wondered
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