Oddly comforted by her demeanor—which simply proved that no matter how much other things change, Lilly always stayed the same—I went, “Well, Judith Gershner is here, so I just figured—”
“For God’s sake,” Lilly said. “How many times do I have to tell you? Michael and Judith are not going out.”
I went, “Oh, right. Then why have they spent every waking moment together for the past two weeks?”
“Because they were working on that stupid computer program for the Carnival,” she said. “Besides, Judith Gershner already has a boyfriend.” Lilly grabbed me by the shoulders and turned me around so I could see Judith on the dance floor. “He goes to Trinity.”
I looked at Judith Gershner as she slow-danced with a boy who looked a lot like Kenny, only older and not as uncoordinated.
“Oh,” I said.
“Oh is right,” Lilly said. “I don’t know what is wrong with you today, but I can’t deal with you when you’re acting like such a freak. Sit down right here—” She pulled out a chair. “And don’t you dare get up. I want to know where to find you when I need to.”
I didn’t even ask Lilly why she might need to find me. I just sat down. I felt like I couldn’t stand up anymore. I was that tired.
It wasn’t that I was disappointed. I mean, I didn’t want to see Michael. At least, part of me didn’t.
Another part of me really wanted to see him and ask him just what he’d meant by that poem.
But I was sort of afraid of the answer.
Because it might not be the one I was hoping it would be.
After a while, Lars and Wahim came and sat down next to me. I felt like a complete tool. I mean, there I was, sitting at a dance with two bodyguards, who were deep in a discussion about the advantages versus the disadvantages of rubber bullets. Nobody was asking me to dance. Nobody would, either. I mean, I’m a huge, colossal loser. A huge, colossal loser without a date.
Who, by the way, is supposedly in love with Boris Pelkowski.
Why was I even staying? I had done what Grandmère said
. I had shown up. I had proved to everyone that I wasn’t a coward. Why couldn’t I leave? I mean, if I wanted to?
I stood up. I said to Lars, “Come on. We’ve been here long enough. I still have a lot of packing to do. Let’s go.”
Lars said okay, and started to get up. Then he stopped. I saw that he was looking at something behind me. I turned around.
And there was Michael.
He had obviously just gotten there. He was out of breath. His bow tie wasn’t tied. And there was still snow in his hair.
“I didn’t think you were coming,” he said.
I knew my face had gone as red as Judith Gershner’s dress. But there wasn’t anything I could do about that. I said, “Well, I almost didn’t.”
He said, “I called you a bunch of times. Only you wouldn’t come to the phone.”
I said, “I know.” I was wishing the floor of the gym would open up, like in It’s a Wonderful Life, and that I’d fall into the pool underneath it and drown and not have to have this conversation.
“Mia,” he said. “With that thing today. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
Or the floor would open and I could just fall, and keep falling, forever and ever and ever. That would be okay, too. I stared at the floor, willing it to crack apart and swallow me up.
“It didn’t.” I lied. “I mean, it wasn’t that. It was something Kenny said.”
“Yeah,” Michael said. “Well, I heard you two broke up.”
Yeah. Probably by now the whole school had. Now, I knew, my face was even redder than Judith’s dress.
“The thing is,” Michael went on, “I knew it was you. Who was leaving those cards.”