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Private (Private 1)

Page 124

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Mr. Pearson said.

I wanted to protest. To say that I’d go. But he had already

stormed like a bull halfway up the walk. Mrs. Pearson sighed grandly and I shot her an apologetic smile, which she completely ignored.

During morning services, I sat in chilled silence with Constance The longer we stood there alone, the faster my heart pounded.

and her parents—a very large man with a very large head, and a

Something was wrong here. Something was very, very wrong.

diminutive woman whom he totally overshadowed. Constance hadn’t I half hoped Mr. Pearson would walk out holding Thomas by the

spoken to me all morning and had vacated the room to go meet her scruff of his neck, still wearing his boxers or pajama pants or what-parents before I had even showered. But when I sat down next to ever the hell a guy like him slept in. But seconds later, when Mr.

her after chapel, she had taken in my outfit and given me an

Pearson emerged, he was red with rage and completely alone.

impressed glance. I took this as a good sign. Maybe the damage I Thomas was gone.

had done last night was not irreversible.

While Mr. Talbot continuously leaned over to his daughter and

asked questions about the service—at full volume—I spent half the time craning my neck around to see if Thomas had arrived yet. His parents stood in the back of the auditorium, looking sour and grim.

Every now and then when I turned, I caught his mother staring me down. As if I was somehow responsible for her son’s slight. Each time I caught her eye I blanched and told myself not to look again.

But I couldn’t stop. I kept looking until the dean’s final address.

Thomas never arrived.

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When services were over, I dodged through the crowd, trying to

“What the . . . ?” Constance said.

catch up with Josh, but the wall of families closed in on me and I lost

“Oh, my God,” I blurted under my breath. I felt the room start to sight of him and his parents. Soon I found myself walking back to spin. “Oh, my God.”

Bradwell alone, contemplating my next move. I had already tried

“Okay, calm down,” Constance said, though she sounded any-

every one of Thomas’s phone numbers a dozen times. What else

thing but calm herself. We stared around at the bare bed, the desk could I do? Break into his room and toss it for clues? Where had he that had been swept clean, the closet with its big empty space near gone? And why hadn’t he told me he was going?

the end. It was all gone. Like I had never even been there. “There When I walked into Bradwell, I saw Constance and her parents



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