“And?”
“It wasn’t there. But sometimes people stare at me or they whisper and I just started worrying about the Dean giving me another sex talk or just…” I take a breath. “I think last year I wouldn’t have cared if I were on that list, I’d just be happy to have been noticed. And now I would care. I said I was going to be different this year, and I really didn’t think I was making much progress, but I have.”
“You don’t want to be a Crosbabe, I know. I don’t want you to be one either. I didn’t come up with that nickname, and I don’t use it, and I wish it didn’t exist. But I can’t erase last year and neither can you, no matter how hard you keep trying. I’m just focusing on doing things better this year. And I thought I was.”
I meet his stare. “You are. I’m sorry.”
He’s silent for a second, then nods. “Fine. Hang around for a bit. I have to take a shower, then I need you to quiz me for my chemistry exam.”
“I thought that wasn’t for another two weeks.”
“It’s not, but it’s the worst fucking class I’ve ever taken, and I need a head start.” He grabs a towel and a change of clothes, then opens the door. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be five minutes.”
“Okay.”
I take a breath and slowly exhale, forcing myself to relax. That could have gone better, but it could also have gone much, much worse. Though it’s kind of mortifying to realize I could take lessons in maturity from a guy whose idea of hiding his well-read copy of Hustler is sticking it inside his pillowcase.
I make the bed and take a seat against the wall, playing a game on my phone while I wait. When Crosbie returns a few minutes later, his hair is freshly wet and he’s changed into sweats and a T-shirt. He smells like soap.
“Are you cold with this open?” he asks, tossing the towel in the general direction of his hamper while nodding at the window.
“No, I’m all right.”
“Okay.” He grabs his chemistry textbook from the elliptical and joins me, shunting his newly fluffed pillows to the side and sitting at the head of the bed.
“Where do you want to start?” I ask, flipping through the pages he’s marked with neon green tabs. “Anywhere?”
“Sure.”
“Okay… Let’s start with an easy one. What are the ten most abundant elements in the universe?”
“Ah, helium, hydrogen, oxygen…nitrogen…carbon…” He picks at a hangnail. “Calcium?”
“No.”
“Did I already say helium?”
“Mm hmm.”
“Help me out.”
I gesture to the weight stack in the corner. “You like to pump…”
“Iron.”
I flick one of the tabs in the book. “What color is this?”
“Green?”
“More specifically.”
His brows tug together. “Bright green.”
“I was going for neon.”
“Remind me what the hell neon is?”
“A noble gas.” I don’t take the course now, but I actually really liked chemistry in high school, opting for the advanced class just for the hell of it. “Did you know that the guy who organized the periodic table denied that the noble gases existed—”
I break off when I see Crosbie pinching the bridge of his nose as though he’s in pain. “Are you okay?” I ask, reaching over to touch his leg. “Chemistry’s not that bad. And this story is pretty interesting.”
“You know what I can’t believe?” He bends his leg so I’m no longer able to reach it, and for a second I just stare at the now-empty spot on the comforter.
“What?”
“The first day you came up here and I got you to quiz me, I swore the next time you were here, we’d do a lot more than ‘quiz.’ And now here you are, my girlfriend, on my bed, and I’m just…”
I bite my lip. “Mad?”
“Yes, Nora!” He thumps his hand against the pillow and we both pretend not to hear the magazine rustle inside. “What the fuck?”
I tug on a loose thread at the hem of my shirt. “I said I was sorry.”
“Well, you should be. Opening the door to see you standing there is like waking up Christmas morning and finding this huge gift under the tree, then you open it and it’s just…a banana.”
I do my very best not to laugh. “A banana?”
“Yes, a banana. A disappointment.”
I gasp. I’m sure me accusing him of sleeping around on the road trip wasn’t his favorite part of the day, but calling me a disappointment? I’d heard that term enough last May to last me a lifetime.
“Crosbie,” I say tightly, “I’m sorry. I tried to sound…civil when I came here, but what was I supposed to do? The writing was quite literally on the wall, and whether or not you like your reputation, it’s not like you didn’t earn it.”
“Are you kidding me?” He shifts so he’s sitting on his knees, like the wall couldn’t possibly support the weight of his irritation. “First of all, I don’t even know what names are on that list, but none of them were my girlfriend. You know how I know? Because I didn’t have a girlfriend. The writing might be ‘quite literally’ on the wall, but I didn’t do anything wrong. I never lied to anybody, and I haven’t lied to you.”
“I said I was sorry!”