17
It had all been a setup. He hadn’t wanted to dance with me. The whole time, he wanted to stomp me into the floor in front of the whole school. Well, he succeeded. I should have danced with Ethan from the start.
The air felt cold through the thin fabric of my dress, and my skin broke out in goose bumps. I suddenly wished for an environment suit, so I could hide better. I hugged myself, shivering, and my teeth started to chatter. I let them chatter because it kept me from crying, and how stupid was it, crying over something like this?
I was determined not to run. Step by step, I walked back to the residence hall, my feet pounding on the concrete sidewalk in the awkward sandals that Angelyn made me wear. What idiot came up with the idea of walking on tiny little heels in high gravity? Finally, I reached the dorm building and keyed myself into the room. All I wanted to do was curl up in bed and stay there. Forever. I didn’t even care about changing clothes first. I didn’t care about messing up the nice dress. This stupid dress that I’d spent so much time worrying about. That I’d gone and asked my mother for. That I’d actually cared about.
Reaching my bed at last, I sat down with a huff and slumped, too tired and numb to do anything. If I sat here long enough, maybe I’d melt and never have to talk to anyone again. A folded sheet of paper lay under the pillow. The white corner of it stood out against the gray blanket. I picked it up, unfolded it.
A letter from Charles, handwritten in neat block letters on the back of his invitation to the banquet. How did he do that?
IT’S JUST A GAME. YOU WIN ROUNDS, YOU LOSE THEM. THE TRICK IS NOT LETTING ON WHEN YOU THINK YOU’VE LOST. MOVE ON TO THE NEXT ROUND.
It could have meant anything, and for all I knew it was part of the same comedy routine that the whole evening had turned into. He was playing a joke on me, and just because I couldn’t see it didn’t mean he wasn’t laughing.
I looked down at myself, at the dress I’d thought was so beautiful, the sparkly shoes, the slinky fabric and curves. Now it looked like a costume, something I didn’t have any business wearing. Everyone in that room had probably thought so, too. Had they all been looking at me and laughing?
I unfastened and peeled off the dress, then went into the shower, spending a long time under the spray, turning it up as hot as it would go before shutting it off. That was one thing Earth had going for it that I’d gotten used to quick: long, hot showers. A truly excessive waste of water, but I could see why people liked it: it made my muscles melt. I felt better. When I got back to the bedroom, the place was still empty. Everyone else was still at the party, dancing. Having more fun than I was. I went to bed, curling up and covering my head with the blanket.
The others came back maybe an hour later. I heard giggling down the corridor, then the door opened.
“She’s in bed,” Marie whispered. I froze, my breathing shallow, refusing to move or make a sound, to give anything away.
“Polly?” Ladhi said, her voice hushed. “Are you okay? Are you awake?”
I didn’t say anything, listening to them come in, talking as they tried to keep their voices to whispers. They talked about the food, drinks, music, how nice everything was. Who danced with whom and who looked like they were serious. Through it all, I pretended to sleep. I didn’t want to talk to anyone.
* * *
I must have fallen asleep very, very late, after the lights switched off and Ladhi and Marie stopped giggling and carrying on. But that just meant I had to wake up when the lights came on. Just because we partied the night before didn’t mean we weren’t expected to keep to the schedule today, which meant getting up, eating breakfast, and going to PE and study hall. I don’t know how Stanton and the rest of the tyrants expected us to get anything done today.
Not that I wanted to get up at all. But I couldn’t stay under the covers all day. My bladder wouldn’t let me.
I made sure to get up before everyone else, hurrying to dress and finish in the bathroom. Maybe I could get to breakfast before anyone else was awake to stare at me. Maybe I could just … lock myself in a closet for the rest of the year.
No such luck, of course. When I got to the dining hall, people were already there, a handful of brave—awake—souls. I froze at the door, looking at them all.
Charles was there. He looked up from his food, met my gaze, then looked down again. Which meant he wanted to talk.
I couldn’t tell if everyone else was stealing glances at me, too. I should be used to it by now.
Taking a deep breath, I walked up to the window to get a tray of food, then made my way to Charles’s table to sit across from him. I stared at him; he kept eating.
“Well?” I said finally.
“I was going to ask you that.”
I stirred roasted potatoes with my fork. “I didn’t step on his feet.”
“I know you didn’t,” I said. “I saw the whole thing.”
“You did?” A witness. Vindication. I thought about it for a minute. “Why were you watching me?”
He glanced at me sidelong, but otherwise his expression didn’t change. “Just looking out for you.” He said it deadpan, like it didn’t mean anything.
We ate for a time, Charles hardly looking up and me continuing to study him for a hint of what he was thinking. I still couldn’t tell.
“So why’d he do it?” I said. “Why’d he lie?”