New Girl (18 page)

Max looked at her nervously. She smiled.

“First of all, I just want to say thank you to all of you…you’ve all welcomed me to Manderley and I couldn’t be happier to know each and every one of you.”
Gag.
“And as for you, Max, I just have one thing to say to you.”

Everyone was quiet as they listened to her. She took her time and smiled at Max, gazing at him as earnestly as she could. “I love
you.
”

A bunch of the girls gasped and then there was applause. She knew exactly what she was doing.

“Oh, he’s embarrassed.” She wrapped an arm around his waist. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“Kiss her!”
said a voice in the audience.

She smiled. Max tightened his jaw and looked down at her, his eyes furiously questioning her. He kissed her quickly, and she pulled him in for a real kiss. He was mad, and she knew it. She didn’t care.

More clamor from their onlookers.

“Thank you so much.” She handed the microphone back, curtsied and dragged Max behind her by the hand.

He left after that.

“That was
so
cute, Becca!” Madison said, running up to her. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell us he said he loved you! Oh, my
God!
” She waved a hand in front of her face.

That was definitely the implication in the way she’d said it. But it was easy to claim as an accidental inflection.

“Yeah, it’s really sweet. Look, don’t tell anyone, but I’m sneaking into the boys’ dorms.”

Julia’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”

“Everyone’s down here, so no one will even notice.” She tried to ignore the pounding in her chest. She had to look happy and cool and confident. “Besides, Max and I need to celebrate.” She smiled, but it faltered as she saw Johnny by the entrance. She didn’t look back at her friends, but went to him.

For once she was lost for words as she looked at him. She hadn’t thought about him when she’d done what she just did. It hadn’t occurred to her that he might care.

After not looking at her for what felt like a very long time, he spoke.

“You guys…you’re saying
that
now?”

She shook her head, but didn’t know what to say.

He finally looked at her, and the look in his eyes made her heart skip. “Do you love him, Becca? Really?”

“I—I don’t know.”

For the first time in she didn’t know how long, she felt her eyes brim with real tears. She took a deep, steadying breath. She did know that she
didn’t
love Max. Her stomach clenched. Why
was
she staying with Max? Was it worth it?

Johnny nodded once and walked past her toward the dorms. She called his name, but he didn’t turn. She looked around to see if anyone had seen. No one seemed to have.

That was why she was staying with Max—because Johnny could walk away. And when he did, she would feel like this.

Becca flew down the stairs and into the bathroom. The tears were threatening again; her heart and throat were hot and sore from being in knots. She was on the brink of letting it out when she came upon two girls.

“Becca! That was so sweet! Are you—are you okay?”

It took everything she had to look blasé. “Am I okay? Yes, I’m okay. Just…freshening up before I go to Max’s room.” She smiled and tried to blink the tears away.

She looked in the mirror and wiped any running mascara from under her eyes. She looked pitiful, she thought. The crown looked like it was making fun of her. She left the bathroom and the two girls, whatever their names were, and went up the stairs toward Max.

What was his room number? He’d said something about it the other day because his parents had sent a letter to the wrong room. They sent it to eight. He was in…ugh, for
once
she wished she’d listened to him. Eighteen? Twenty-eight? It was one of those two. She’d just have to try both.

She found door eighteen. She knocked. No response. She tried the knob, and it was open. She peered in and saw an empty, messy room.

Door twenty-eight. No answer. Locked.

Dammit. Was it…maybe
his
room was number eight?

She found it and knocked. She shouldn’t be here. She should be trying to fix things with Johnny. She was on the brink of running when Max opened the door.

Becca reminded herself that this was the way to be happy. To have who everyone wanted. And not risk real heartbreak.

She threw her arms around Max. “Oh, thank God you opened the door. I’ve been looking everywhere!”

“Becca, what are you
doing?
”

“I’m so
sorry.
I…I just…”

He stepped back, throwing her arms from him. “Stop.”

“I love you. And I mean it.” The words sounded unnatural.

It was the first time she’d said it to anyone. He still looked livid, but she could see in his eyes that he was working to understand what she’d said. She took his hand to squeeze it for emphasis. The emotions from a moment before were threatening to come back.

“I
do…
and I know you don’t believe me, Max. But I do. I just…don’t know what to do with it. I’ve never been in love before. I just don’t know how to act.” She let go of his hand and stepped backward. She felt herself mean the words she said. But not toward Max. “I’m so sorry. I guess I just hoped you’d say it if I did that.” Her voice was small. She wasn’t this person. Why was she feeling like this? “I feel like everyone knows you don’t like me that much and it’s so embarrassing.” Becca drew her eyebrows together, and let her hands drop to her sides.

Her knees felt week. She succumbed to it and sat down. She stared at the floor and tightened her jaw. This wasn’t where she wanted to be. Not with Max, not on his floor, not in love with someone she feared wouldn’t love her, too.

“Becca, I’m sorry. I can’t…say that back to you.”

She shook her head. “I don’t need you to. I shouldn’t have said it.”

There was silence while she breathed deeply and tried to keep the tears at bay. She was using every muscle in her body to not scream and burst into shuddering, pathetic tears.

“What should we do now?” he asked. “Are we…”

“I want to stay with you,” she said. “I’m really sorry.”

“If we do, you can’t do things like that.”

She nodded and tightened her stomach. “I know.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

IT WAS THE FIRST DAY WE HAD PAINTING SINCE
Halloween. It’d be the first time I’d seen Max since he walked me to my dorm. I tried hard not to wonder what it would be like, where our conversations would go now. We’d fallen asleep in each other’s arms, as lame as that sounds, and now…how were we going to act? How was I going to make an idiot out of myself this time instead of being cool and collected?

I shivered as I thought of Becca. She probably wouldn’t feel nervous at all. She’d probably smile and toss her ribbonlike hair over her porcelain shoulder and say something clever and seductive. I imagined myself trying it, and cringed with my own embarrassment.

All I’d wanted to do was get under everyone’s skin, and just tell them what had happened. But I didn’t. I kept it to myself.

A tall, lean boy with Ray-Ban glasses walked in. The girls in the class stopped talking immediately as they took in his good looks. He scooted the glasses up his head.

“Hey, guys,” he said as he set down a laptop bag. “I’m Isaac. Frank—Professor Crawley—is my uncle, and he had a family thing he needed to do this week, so I’m covering for him. I, incidentally, am thrilled to be avoiding the family thing. So we’ll have fun this week. Just so you know, I’m not just some random nephew, either. I just graduated from Corcoran in D.C. with a bachelor of fine arts. I’ll be headed back in a year to get started on my master’s.”

The class was silent. The girls were still gaping, and the guys were sizing him up. Max walked in and took his seat next to me while Isaac dug through his laptop bag for the attendance.

“Who’s that?” Max asked me.

I nearly seized up. “Uh. Professor Crawley’s son. No, I mean nephew. He just graduated college and he’s covering for Crawley.”

I didn’t need to be so stupid when I talked to Max. It would be nice if just sometimes, I could say things without stumbling through them.

Max nodded.

Once we were given our assignment, which was to paint abstractly using at least two different kinds of brushstrokes, the classroom was buzzing with whispered conversation. Most of it about how hot our sub was. Max was listening to headphones and furrowing his brow at his painting. After half an hour passed, I came to terms with the fact that we wouldn’t be talking today.

I was just laying Cadmium Red Light to the underside of a Cerulean blue stroke when Isaac approached me.

“That’s awesome.”

“Mine?”

Isaac nodded and squinted as he leaned in to look at my colors. “That’s really awesome. I gotta say, I usually hate the look of colors straight out of the tube, but you’re doing something really interesting here. Is there any kind of inspiration for this? Like, what’s going through your mind as you do this?”

Max. Just a whole lot of Max. “Nothing really. I’m just…painting I guess.”

Isaac looked at me through narrowed eyes, chewing on the end of his Ray-Bans. “Are you in love?”

I noticed now that the whole class was listening. Even Max had taken off his headphones.

“Love? No, not at all.
God
no.” Slick.

“I see…a lot of torture here. All these reds…the Alizarin with the Cadmium, especially over here,” he indicated a sharp, narrow line in the corner. “This is amazing. You really have a gift.”

“Oh…no, I don’t even paint. This doesn’t even look abstract like it’s supposed to. It’s just…a mess.”

He raised his eyebrows and smiled. “It doesn’t matter. It’s
working
.”

I was flattered and was brimming with pride, but I couldn’t enjoy it. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me, and could practically hear their loathing thoughts about me.

“Looks like you’re a painter now.” He smiled and winked.

I smiled back. “Thanks.”

As Isaac walked around, the classroom’s eyes shifted from me to my painting, I imagined then. They probably all wanted to see what Isaac had been gushing about. They’d probably decide there was nothing special about it, and that they couldn’t see what the fuss was over.

I wished I had my phone and could listen to music. Then I could ignore the whispers, and at least try to escape.

“It
is
good.”

I turned to see Max looking at my canvas. Isaac’s question about love burned in my ears. I almost didn’t want Max to look too hard. If he did, he might see the truth.

“Thank you. I don’t even…” I waved a hand at it. “It’s not even a big deal.”

I directed my gaze back to my canvas, for fear of saying something else dumb.

Later, Max and I were at the washing station, cleaning our brushes when Susan came over to us and draped her arms over our shoulders. She had a group of girls watching whatever performance she was about to put on.

“So, are you two tortured lovebirds now?” She looked at Max. “Doesn’t that seem a bit idiotic given the
circumstances?
”

“Hey, Susan?” said Max. “Why don’t you fuck off?”

I could tell the words bit at her, but she smiled and moved her long straight hair from her face. “I’m sorry, does it bother you when I stand here and touch you? That’s true, that’s inappropriate. Considering Becca, and all. I’ll back off.” She stepped backward, looking smug. “Take the hint,
new girl.
Stop trying to copy his girlfriend. It’s
weird.
”

Max shook his head at her. “You’re just a fucking rip-off.”

“Rip-off? Me? How you figure?”

“Because we all saw you before Becca got here, and we all see you now. Your hair, your jewelry, your shoes…and didn’t you pick up smoking sometime last year? And what was it you smoked? That’s right. Camel Lights. Same as Becca.”

The fire in his eyes intimidated me. He was fighting for Becca, and she wasn’t even here. I wanted everyone to be wrong when they said how much he loved her. But maybe he really did.

“Yeah, I heard you beat the living shit out of Johnny over the summer. I saw the scar he’s got on his cheekbone now. Doesn’t scare me—what are you gonna do, hit me?”

I looked around for Isaac. He was talking on his phone in the corner. Crawley wouldn’t have let this conversation carry on.

“I’m not going to hit you. You just need to stop.”

“Oh,” she said, laughing, “right, you wouldn’t hit a girl. Maybe you’d just
kill me.
”

There was a collective response in the classroom. Gasps,
whoas
and whispers.

“Don’t fucking talk to me.” Max’s eyes were hard, and the veins in his hand were pumping

“If you didn’t kill her, and she is still out there, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s keepings tabs on what you’re doing with this one.” Susan pointed lazily at me.

I laughed. This was just too much. “And that wouldn’t make
Becca
the psycho?”

Max looked at me, and for a second I thought he might yell at me. But then he took my brushes and his and threw them into his locker.

“Is all your other stuff packed up?” he asked me.

“Yes.” I would have said it even if it hadn’t been.

He took my hand and pulled me from the room. It was quieter in the halls, even though I knew classes were about to let out and fill them up again.

Max pulled me into an empty classroom and shut the door. The gray light from outside put an eerie filter on the room.

“I’m sorry.” Max sat down on one of the desks.

“Sorry…why are you sorry?”

“Because that’s not okay. How Susan was acting…it’s messed up. I hate when people talk to you like that. I don’t like when they talk to you about her at all.”

“It’s okay.”

“
No.
It’s not.” He stood and came toward me. “You’re not her. You’re you.”

I couldn’t summon any words. He was so close to me now that I could feel his warmth. I could barely feel the cold of the chalkboard I leaned on.

He put a hand on my hip, and another on my waist. His eyes were boring into mine. They still held the same fire they had when he was talking to Susan about Becca. His hands tightened on me, and I wondered for a moment if maybe that fire wasn’t about Becca at all. Maybe it was for me.

Before I could talk myself out of it, his lips were on mine. My mind went blank. My body went numb. I faded into him, letting my bag fall to the floor. I didn’t care if someone walked in. I didn’t care if anyone saw.

If Becca was alive or Becca was dead, I would have kissed him in front of her.