Page 45 of Considering Us

Thanks for coming by today. Loved the pot pie.

He’s not the one for you.

Love, Dad

P.S. Mom liked him.

I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry, so I did both.

21

“What are you making?”

I was layering flat noodles, marinara sauce, and a blend of cheeses and herbs into large pans for the dinner service that night. “Lasagna,” I replied to Ashlyn Lark, whom I had never spotted in the kitchen of the dining hall before. Since the Midsy incident and her pending disciplinary hearing, I had barely seen her anywhere. “Can I help you with anything, Ashlyn?”

“Not really,” she said, opening the refrigerator and snooping around. I decided to ignore her unless her actions became too egregious, even though I wanted to pull her out of my workplace by the ponytail. “I know you told my aunt that she should kick me out.” I didn’t answer her and continued with my lasagna assembly. “I also know what happened between you and Mr. Holling.”

I put my wooden spoon down on the counter so that I wouldn’t be tempted to throw it at her. Or smack her with it. “What are you talking about?”

She smiled, almost in a sneer. “That you had some kind of fling in college. And then he went to London and didn’t come back. Because he met someone there; she must have been quite the catch not to come back to you,” she said, her voice dripping in sarcasm with the last sentence.

I took a breath and paused. “How would you know anything about any of this?”

“People talk to me. Must be my magnetic personality.”

I couldn’t contain my rage any longer. Every single mean girl who had ever made fun of my house, my mother, or anything else about me in high school was standing in front of me, and my anger had bubbled to the surface and was about to boil over. “Maybe it’s because you scare the shit out of them, you little bitch. I hope that youdoget kicked out of here. It would be a much happier campus.”

Unfazed, Ashlyn laughed. “Has someone told you that you’re not supposed to talk to teenagers that way? If not, it’s kind of a thing.” She whipped out her cell phone and flashed it in my face. “Got exactly what I needed. A lot easier than I anticipated. Thanks,Devon.”

The familiarity with which she said my name bristled me like nothing else I could imagine. I also knew I would not skate through this one easily if I didn’t do something immediately. I snagged her phone out of her hand and dropped it into the bubbling pot of sauce on the stove.

“What the fuck?!” she shrieked, and I couldn’t help but laugh. I knew my actions wouldn’t do me any favors, but it was still better than a recording of me calling the niece of the Head of School a bitch.

“You would’ve done the same thing,” I said, taking care to slowly stir the sauce with my wooden spoon, clanking the phone around in the stockpot. I knew I couldn’t use the sauce anymore since it was contaminated, but I had plenty of backup Rao’s marinara in the pantry.

“True,” she conceded, and we both stood in silence for at least twenty seconds. “I need to go to the Apple Store to get a new phone, I guess.”

“I think Manchester’s the closest. Mall of New Hampshire.”

“Okay,” she said. I couldn’t believe I had defeated Ashlyn Lark, at least for the moment. She turned toward the door and started walking away.

“One quick question,” I said, and she stopped.

“Yeah?”

“Do you runThe Underground Stallion?” I figured I had nothing to lose by asking the question that had stumped me ever since I got to Rockwood.

“I’m not even involved,” she scowled. “Takes too much time. I have better things to do.”

“Who is, then?”

“It shouldn’t really surprise you,” she said, leaving the kitchen. Ashlyn owed me nothing, and I didn’t blame her for not telling me. The sauce sputtered and hit me in the nose as if her phone still had something to say.

...

“What’s he like?” Heath asked as we drove into the Seaport.

“Quiet. Moody. But with me, he’s kinda goofy. High-fives me a lot. He reminds me of some of the Rockwood kids. Acts really young compared to the other Celtics, even the ones who are younger than him.”

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