Page 109 of And They Were Roommates

Who I still haven’t called back. Getting yelled at is the last thing I need right now.

“You sure it’s okay?” I ask Xavier and Robby.

“Yeah, it’s chic or whatever,” Xavier says. “Like Mr. Stern.”

Never mind.

“Thanks,” I say through a yawn. Breaking news: It’s impossible to fall asleep after making out with your roommate. We went to our separate beds in silence. He eventually left at a prompt seven a.m. like usual. Now that the letters are done, he hasn’t told me yet if he’s moving back to his aunt’s quarters. Maybe the answer should be obvious.

Last night, he promised he’d stop me from being sent home, but there’s no way he will now. Not after everything I said or, rather, didn’t say.

Tonight is my last night at Valentine. I have to make it count.

Xavier and Robby halt on the path. I follow their gaze.

Horses. At least fifteen strapped in orange-and-black harnesses to fit the mixer’s Halloween in November theme, circling the stone steps of the ballroom, which partially hangs over Au Sable Forks Lake like a stilt house. Between the marble statues of Saint Valentine on either side and the Gothic architecture pulling me back two centuries, I expect classical music to fill the air, but all I hear is “Monster Mash.”

“They found ’em,” Xavier mutters.

My guilt over accidentally releasing the horses finally lightens. “I’m glad they’re okay—”

Robby screams, cutting me off, and makes a break for the ballroom.

Xavier yanks him back by the collar. “Self-control.”

“Xavier’s right.” Jasper’s voice comes from our left. “We have deliveries to make.”

I turn, and my eyes spread wide.

Jasper’s suit isn’t black. Not navy. It’s bright white, like the pristine-quality paper in his journal. Same for the vest, bow tie, and handkerchief folded in his breast coat pocket. His blond hair is worn down—a rarity. Tonight, he looks better than any poster or cardboard cutout version of himself. He makes eye contact with everyone except me.

It stings, even though I’m the one who caused this. His cross-body bag, which must hold the letters, is slung over a shoulder like he’s off to class. “Apologies for running late. Blaze and I were discussing a potential plan.”

Blaze steps out from behind Jasper’s back, wiggling his butterfly pose. He’s so small that I didn’t even notice him there. Instead of a suit, he wears a tracksuit uniform.

“First things first,” Jasper announces. “Is Ms. Delilah around?”

“She got in trouble because of us, dipshit,” Xavier practically growls, crossing his arms, his suit-coat sleeves stretching taut. “There’s no way she’d want to get involved with us again.”

A hand thwacks Xavier upside the head. He yelps.

“Wrong, as usual,” a familiar high voice says behind him.

Delilah.

Just hearing her voice has my spirits soaring. The moment she steps around Xavier, I pull her in for a hug, tucking her head beneath my chin. “You’re still in the clear?”

“Do you know me?” she says, squeezing me back.

I take in her sleek black gown that makes her blond hair and blue eyes—which are both a shade darker than Jasper’s—pop. Then thethree-inch stilettos that could puncture my eyeballs. Threatening, but still beautiful. “How’s everything else? Student council?”

She tosses a peace sign, but her expression retains its usual deadness. “Your girl ranked high enough to run for student council vice president after break.”

“Seriously?” I squeeze her again, and it feels just like that time we hugged and shared goodbyes at the end of camp all those years ago. Like we’re those same best friends. But we’re older now. There have been so many changes. Even our friendship has changed from long-distance to real-life.

Maybe, with all these changes, we actually need to forget who we used to be. Instead, we need to work more on learning who we are now.

“What about you?” Delilah says through a grin. Like she expects good news.

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