"Oh."
I didn't notice.
I don't pay attention to my classmates.
I've been too busy trying to fly under the radar.
"He's a nice professor," I say, not sure what else I can say in response to that. "Better than most, anyway. I've definitely had worse."
She shoves her chair back, turning to look at me. The screech of the legs against the floor silences my babbling. The scowl is still on her face, but it's deeper now, etched with a stark sort of anger.
"Can we not do this?" she asks, motioning between us. "Can you stop trying to engage me in conversation like we're friends so I can pretend you're not here? It would make my life so much easier."
I blink a few times, balking at her tone. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me. It's bad enough I have to live in this hellhole with that… girl. I don't need whatever bad karma you bring on top of it."
I'm utterly flabbergasted.
Did she really just say that?
"Look, you don't even know me, so I'm not sure what I've done to make you—"
She laughs, cutting me off, but it's sort of a maniacal laugh, like the girl has a bit of Joker in her that's dying to come out. She's three seconds away from painting her fucking face and going after Batman.
"You can't be that stupid," she says. "Maybe you're a nice person, I don't know, but stuff happens when you're around, stuff I'd rather not happen in my life. Maybe it's all a coincidence, but maybe it's not. And people talk. The Reed girl, the last person to see Professor Santino alive. The girl whose roommate's boyfriend disappeared. The girl who was shot by a frickin' gangster last year. That stuff... it's not normal. It doesn't happen to normal people. So please, take whatever baggage you have elsewhere, because I'd rather not help you carry it."
She swings back around, going right back to her books, as if she hadn't just raked me over the damn coals. I stare at her, my stomach tied up in knots. I feel like I'm going to throw up.
Melody waltzes back in then, returning from the quickest shower she's ever taken, and is yammering away about something. I don't know. I'm not listening. I can't focus. My mind keeps replaying Kimberly's words.
People talk.
People talk about me?
"Earth to Karissa!" Melody snaps her fingers in my face. "Jesus, girl, what's been wrong with you lately? You always seem so far away!"
I glance at her.
I still don't know what to say.
A ringing shatters the silence, though, saving me from having to come up with some words yet. The room phone. Kimberly huffs, standing up and storming out, while Melody grabs the phone to answer it. "Room 1313."
The call only lasts a minute before she hangs up, telling whoever it is she'll be there in a minute.
"Package or something," she tells me, even though I didn't ask. She quickly finishes dressing and brushes her hair. "Walk with me downstairs?"
"Uh, yeah... I should get going, anyway."
"Right, you've got class."
"Yeah."
Melody continues her yammering on the way down to the lobby. I catch a few of the words—she's gushing about Leo. I smile and nod, trying to be a good friend. But is that even possible?
I don't know, honestly.
Because all those things Kimberly mentioned?
Definitely not a coincidence.
"Are you okay?" Melody asks, grabbing my arm to stop me when we reach the first floor and step off the elevator.
"Yeah, uh... I don't know." I shrug, because really, I don't know. I'm not an idiot. I'm not stupid. I know people gossip. But I've ever had someone blatantly bring it up. "Have you heard…? I mean, do people really talk about me?"
Melody stares at me in confusion before her expression shifts, a knowing look overcoming her face. I wouldn't call it pity. Melody isn't the kind of person to pity anybody. But it is sympathetic, like she knows exactly what I mean.
Like she's heard rumors.
"People are assholes," she says, waving it off. "They like to make up stories like this is General Hospital and Sonny Corinthos is out there running the streets. I don't even pay them any attention and you shouldn't either."
Easier said than done, I think.
She smiles, like she means what she says, and I smile back, because maybe she does. Regardless, I know I don't deserve a friend like Melody. She's better off without Paul in her life, sure, but that doesn't forgive me for my part in his absence. I didn't lay a finger on him, personally, but that doesn't make me innocent.
I walk with Melody to the front desk, where she flashes her school ID. The lady working, in turn, hands over a bouquet of white lilies. Melody squeals excitedly, flashing me the tag. No message written on it, just the words: x, Leo.
"What did I tell you?" Melody says, clutching them to her. "Perfect."
I leave her still basking in her post-date glow, telling her I need to get to class, but I stroll the opposite way instead, heading for the subway. I rarely take it home, because it's always so crowded, but I'm so much in my head I barely notice the others.
The front door is locked when I get home, but Naz's car is in its usual place in the driveway, so I'm guessing he didn't go anywhere. I let myself in, heading to the den, and find him sitting behind his desk, reading today's newspaper.
I'm starting to sense a pattern.
He looks up when I enter. "You're home early again."
I plop down on the couch, dropping my bag by my feet. "Is that a problem?"
"For me? No. For you? Maybe."
"Why?"
"All this skipping class can't be good for your grades," he says. "So I guess we'll see if it's a problem when report cards come in."
I laugh at that. "What are you going to do, ground me?"
"No, but I might spank you."
"Promise?"
He stares at me.
He's not laughing.
His eyes search my face, looking for something. I'm not sure what, but I don't think he sees it, because he folds his paper and sets it aside, leaning back in his chair to regard me. "Come here."