by Zac Brewer
CHAPTER 6
IONIC BOND:
A chemical bond between two ions with opposite charges
It had been four years since I’d made this walk across the moonlit campus through the thickly grown woods to the river, but it felt like it might as well have been four days. The walk was so familiar, so unchanged, and it occurred to me as Quinn and I moved through the trees that the midnight walk to First Night was as much a part of the tradition as the celebration itself. The walk was leaving things behind. The party was about moving forward. I’d heard First Night had been taking place at the same time, at the same place, for over fifty years. My parents had met at First Night. Josh and I had tasted our first beer at First Night our sixth-grade year. To outsiders, First Night might just seem like some lame party thrown by a bunch of spoiled private school kids. But to me, to all the kids at Wills, First Night was about beginnings. And if I needed anything this year, it was a new beginning.
The music reached us before we’d even made it out of the woods. But we couldn’t see the glow from the towering bonfire on the water’s edge until we broke through the tree line. All along the riverbank the students of Wills Institute were gathered. Some sat on blankets they’d laid out on the ground, some sat atop coolers or in lawn chairs they’d brought to school in anticipation of this evening. Most stood in small groupings all along the water’s edge. A few random couples could be seen sneaking off into the woods. Some kids were swimming in the river. I couldn’t be sure from the distance, but it looked like at least one of the girls in the water was topless. Everyone—apart from those in the water—was holding red plastic party cups in their hands. A keg sat in a big plastic bucket full of ice not far from the bonfire. I nudged Quinn and pointed to it. “Want a drink?”
“I . . . sure.” Quinn looked like he was turning a bit green at the thought of it. That made me chuckle.
“You don’t drink, do you?” It was no big deal to me if he drank or not. I didn’t, and I’d known plenty of people who didn’t drink booze. In fact, back in Cali, my roommate Connor was straightedge. He didn’t drink, didn’t smoke, and didn’t do drugs at all. I admired him for it. It was hard to stick to your ideals when most teenagers seemed to major in peer pressure.
“Not normally.” I suspected that what he meant by “not normally” was “not ever,” but some guys just couldn’t lay it on the table when it came to experience and lack thereof.
“You don’t have to drink. But people can be real dicks about the whole drinking or not drinking thing. So . . . I’ll share my secret with you. Maybe it’ll help you, maybe it won’t.” I directed him to the keg and filled two cups, handing him one. Mine had far more foam on top than his. “Ya see, the key to drinking at a party and not getting stupid wasted is to do what I do. Hold a cup, and sip from it every once in a while. You don’t have to take big drinks. Hell, you don’t even have to swallow. Just let the booze touch your lips enough to make it seem like you’re drinking. As long as you have a cup in your hand, no one will pressure you to drink more. I think I’ve finished maybe half a beer at each of the First Nights I’ve been to.”
Quinn blinked at me like I was the smartest man on earth. I wasn’t. But I also didn’t correct him. “That’s actually pretty brilliant.”
I shrugged. “I don’t really like drinking. But I also don’t really like the bullshit peer pressure. It’s an easy way to basically avoid both.”
A guy I vaguely recognized let out a scream and ran over to a buddy of his, tackling him into the water. I’d never understood people like that—people who craved the spotlight, needed the attention to be on them for even a little while. I’d always stood on the sidelines, watching social interaction the way that one might observe a sociology experiment. I took mental notes on how people interacted, and questioned why they did. Grace used to say I was more like an alien than a human being for that reason. Maybe she was right.
“Any tips on how to talk to someone you’re interested in?”
I followed Quinn’s eyes to a familiar-looking girl who was seated all alone on a smooth log close to the river. Smiling both at the sight of her and at the idea that Quinn might be into her, I said, “Yeah. Start with ‘hi.’”
As if the word hello were beyond his comprehension, Quinn froze. I patted him on the shoulder, told him I’d be right back, and then walked over to where the girl was sitting. As I took a seat beside her on the log, I said, “I thought you weren’t coming tonight.”
Caroline was staring at the water, but I got the feeling her mind was somewhere else. I got the impression that Caroline’s mind was almost always somewhere else. Without as much as a glance in my direction, she said, “Things change. Nature of the universe and all that.”
I held my red plastic cup up for a moment. “Can I get you a beer?”
“I don’t drink.”
Why wasn’t I surprised? “Can I introduce you to a few people?”
“Probably. But I’d rather you didn’t.” Her eyes never left the water. It was as if its movement mesmerized her. Either that or she was somewhere off on Planet Caroline.
I didn’t mind her quirks. In fact, I found them more intriguing than I would admit to, if asked. “Well, can I at least hang out with you for a little while?”
“I guess. But I don’t understand what you want to accomplish by doing so.”
I shrugged. “I dunno. Conversation, maybe?”
“What do you want to talk about?”
“Anything. Just . . . whatever. The weather, why the sky is blue. I don’t care. Just something.” Talking to Caroline was like pulling teeth. And I didn’t just mean that in the metaphorical way. Last year, we’d dissected a boar, but not just the organs and brain matter. We’d taken its bones apart and pulled out several teeth. It was a pain in the ass. But somehow intriguing. Like talking to Caroline.
“A prism.” Just as I was about to inquire what the hell she was talking about, she continued. “Our atmosphere acts as a prism and bends the light of the sun into what we perceive as an array of colors. That’s why the sky is blue.”
She looked up at the night sky and sighed. “Not now, of course.”
Surrendering to my frustration, I gestured to Quinn, who was still in the same spot where I’d left him. Only now he was shuffling his feet and looking up at the trees. “See that guy over there? The one looking a little awkward and alone? The one by the keg pretending to drink that beer?”
Her eyes followed my line of sight.
“Yeah. What about him?”
“His name’s Quinn. He’s my roommate. It’s his first year at Wills, and I think you guys might get along. You should go say hi to him.”
For a moment, she didn’t move. Then, without a word, she stood up and walked over to Quinn. Quinn’s face was a mixture of beet red and nausea green. I got the feeling he didn’t talk to a lot of girls on his own. Especially ones he found interesting.
After a moment, Caroline walked away, down the trail that led back to the dorms. Once she was gone, I headed back to Quinn. “So? What did she say?”
“She just said hi. That was it.” He tilted his cup up and took an extremely healthy swallow. Something told me Quinn wasn’t grasping the notion of just pretending to drink so you could keep your wits about you. Or maybe he really did want to get drunk. After he swallowed, he wiped his mouth off on the back of his hand and said, “Then she walked away.”
I couldn’t even pretend that I was surprised. “Caroline’s . . . a little different. You should get to know her though. She seems nice.”
“I knew you’d be here, ya liar.” A familiar arm wrapped around my neck and squeezed in a playful headlock. As Josh released my head, I shoved him lightly, a grin spreading across my face. With his arm still around my shoulders, he looked at Quinn and smiled. “Who’s this? The new roomie?”
The party had already improved by leaps and bounds now that Josh was here. The music was the same; the fire and teenage debauchery hadn’t escalated at all. Bu
t just knowing my best friend was around somehow made it all feel a little different, better. “Yes, we’re roomies. Quinn, this pain in the ass is Josh. Contrary to the things I’ll be telling you about him later, he’s a good guy.”
“Nice to meet you.” Quinn shook Josh’s hand. As he let go, his eyes fell on someone behind me. “Oh . . .”
Josh and I both turned, watching as Grace settled onto the ground beside the fire pit. He and I exchanged looks that said we were both thinking the same thing—this ought to be interesting.
Quinn was oblivious to the fact that he was drooling over my sister, despite my warnings the previous day. To be fair, he was already halfway through his third beer. As we gravitated away from the keg, he slurred, “She’s seriously hot.”
As Quinn slurred the word seriously, Josh raised his eyebrows and took a sip from his own cup. I could tell he was amused, and I just wanted to watch the whole thing play itself out. With a smirk, I said, “Ya think so, eh?”
“Yeah. Do you know her?”
“You might say that.” I waited until he’d brought his cup away from his mouth and met my eyes. Then I said, “That’s my sister. Grace. Remember? From the dining hall?”
“Grace . . .” Quinn’s eyes widened and I began to wonder how a guy like that had been admitted to Wills. “Oh! Oh, dude, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that was your sister. She looks different at night.”
Josh laughed, coughing up a mouthful of beer. He was enjoying this more than he should have been.
I said, “That’s because it’s dark. And you’re drunk.”
Quinn grabbed my shoulder a little too firmly and breathed into my face, “I am so sorry.”
I took a step back in search of fresh air. “It’s cool, man. No big deal. Lots of guys like Grace. But Grace has never really liked anyone for very long.”
Quinn wavered slightly and then turned back to the keg. When he spoke, it didn’t seem to be to Josh or me. Maybe he was talking to the brain cells he was destroying. “I’m gonna get more beer.”
As soon as he’d gone, Josh wiped a spot of beer Quinn had spilled on him, then turned to look at me. His expression went from smiling to serious—more serious than First Night generally called for. “Hey, Adrien, listen. I’m really glad you came tonight. Cuz I’ve gotta tell you something.”
I raised a smartass eyebrow at him. “Is it bad? Should I actually start drinking this beer?”
“Maybe. I’m not sure how you’ll react.” He looked at my cup and bit his bottom lip for a moment before speaking again. “On second thought, maybe you should be sober for this.”
I placed my hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “What is it, Josh? You know you can tell me anything.”
His face was flushed, despite the fact that he seemed dead sober. When he met my eyes, he looked more than a little concerned. “It’s . . . it’s about Grace, kinda. I didn’t say anything earlier, because I was really surprised to see you back at Wills and all. But . . . well . . . Grace and I sorta dated all last year.”
I bit the inside of my cheek. Hard. “Is that right?”
Josh shrugged, guilt written all over his face. “I would have said something right away, but at least I’m saying it now before you hear it from somebody else.”
Cutting the guy a break, I slapped him on the shoulder. We’d been friends for too long to have someone like Grace come between us. “It’s okay, man. She dumped you. It’s over. You should’ve told me. But it’s cool. Whatever.”
“Actually, I dumped her. She was pretty hurt over the whole thing. But I had my reasons.” He cringed. “Gonna kick my ass?”
Laughter boiled out of me. “Kick your ass? For breaking Grace’s heart? My friend, I’m going to buy you a drink.”
Josh returned to the keg, refilled his cup, and took a healthy sip. I walked over to him and waited. When he looked at me again, he said, “I didn’t mean to hurt her. Grace is just . . . I dunno. Not right for me, y’know?”
“Dude, Grace isn’t right for a Minotaur. She’s too much of an evil beast.” I couldn’t contain a chuckle. “I must confess, I’m feeling a bit smug over the idea of my best friend breaking her heart. Does that make me a cold bastard?”
Josh grinned. “The coldest. But screw it. We’re young. Now’s the time for mistakes and heartbreaks.”
A couple of guys were taking turns jumping over the bonfire. The last one to do so, some kid I didn’t recognize, caught his sneaker on fire. He stomped it out before the flames could reach his socks, but it was a pretty clear indication that it was almost time for me to leave. In my experience, once drunk people started setting themselves on fire, the party was pretty much over.
A couple of people I didn’t know called Josh over to settle an argument over who was a better band—Greek Fire or Mindless Self Indulgence, which was like comparing apples to oranges or one great band to another. Senseless.
“I don’t give a damn! Just do it, Marissa, before I rip your pretty hair out of your pretty little head.”
Swerving my head toward my sister’s voice, I saw her jabbing a girl in the shoulder with a perfectly manicured fingernail. The girl’s face was drawn and tight in a way that suggested she was royally pissed off, but not about to argue with the queen. Her only response to my sister before stomping away was a single word, gritted through her clenched teeth. “Fine.”
Once she’d gone, I couldn’t resist seizing the moment to go stand beside my sister. “So I just heard you dated Josh last year.”
“I thought we had a deal you were going to leave me alone,” she said. When I continued to stand there with a satisfied grin on my face, she said, “If you must know, yes, I did.” She glared at me, but her expression softened when she found Josh in the crowd. “Did he say anything about me?”
“Just that you were a terrible kisser. The worst he’s ever had, actually.” I took a sip of my beer, my lips curling into a smile behind the cup.
She groaned and faced me directly. “Why do you have to be such a prick, Adrien? Seriously. Why can’t you just pretend to be decent?”
I shook my head, feigning innocence and ignorance. “So I’m not supposed to be bothered by the fact that you were screwing my best friend?”
She tilted her head to one side, eyeing me with pure hatred. “Shouldn’t you be more bothered by the fact that your best friend screwed your sister?”
“Believe me, Grace, I’m more bothered by that than I can even put into words.” Her eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. “I thought my friends had better taste than that.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re such a virgin.”
True or not, I never got why that was an insult. It was just another state of being.
My jaw flexed in irritation. “Look, just stay away from all of my friends, okay?”
As I turned to leave, she called after me, “Shouldn’t be difficult. You have so few.”
I yelled back, “Now who’s being a prick?”
Josh rejoined me at the keg, where it seemed that our good friend Quinn had made it his duty to empty the damn thing. “What’d your sister have to say?”
I shook my head. “Nothing good about you, my friend. Nothing good at all.”
His eyes followed her as she disappeared into the darkness of the woods, and I immediately recoiled. All he said was, “Huh.” But I could tell by the look on his face that I’d planted a seed of curiosity where I’d hoped to poison the soil. Damn.
Maybe Grace was right. Maybe I was a prick.
Quinn grabbed me by the shirt and said, “I think I might be drunk.”
Then he threw up.
On my shoes.
CHAPTER 7
HUND’S RULE:
Electrons are most stable if they remain unpaired in the ground state
“Tie, Mr. Dane.”
I rolled my eyes as I straightened my tie, tightening it around my neck, as required by the uniform handbook. But the moment Mr. Garrow—a teacher who’d never cared much for either of my parents
—was out of sight, I loosened it again, pulling it slightly to the side. I’d never understood boarding schools’ anal need for dress conformity. What we wore didn’t matter, and such limiting rules were enough to suck the creative juice out of every student here. Several years ago, I’d questioned the headmaster about the strict dress code at Wills. In response, he’d cited that Albert Einstein wore the same outfit every day so that he didn’t have to waste any of his thinking on what to wear. The headmaster had had a point, but that still didn’t mean I was going to conform to their rules. Even after that conversation, I continued to wear Chucks instead of polished black oxfords. No one cared about my footwear. So why did Mr. Garrow seem to give such an enormous crap about my tie?
I walked up to the door of Julian’s class and took a deep breath. By some miracle, it turned out this was the only class I’d have with Grace, and even better, it was only twice a week. Eight classes. Then it was back to California and the life I’d built far away from my sister.
I opened the door, feigning confidence, and swept the room quickly with my eyes before I took a seat by the window, knowing that from a psychological standpoint I was saying that I was perfectly comfortable in this room, in this situation. I relaxed in my chair, trying to come across as blasé, but the truth was, I’d seen the roster for this class. Josh and Quinn—my only friends here, if you didn’t count Caroline—weren’t in this class. Just Grace, and everyone who hung out with Grace. To say I was feeling a little unnerved was an understatement. I was counting on Julian to keep the tension as low as possible. As he walked in, he smiled at me, easing my nerves some. The room filled, with Grace entering last. We sat on opposite sides of the room. I wasn’t the least bit surprised.
Julian stood at the front of the class, tall and confident, clearly eager to set a good impression during his first week of classes as a teacher at Wills. His tie was perfectly straight, his oxfords polished to a shine—despite the fact that the teachers’ dress code wasn’t as strict as the students’. “Welcome to communication. This class has been arranged to educate you on something that many people struggle with and to ease your way into the world, wherever life may take you after graduation. It was also designed to help you before then. From what I hear, a lot of you at Wills seem content to study at all hours and spend most of your time in your rooms. The administration hopes to change this—to empower you to make a community here. The tools that you will learn in this class are invaluable. Together we will explore how to break down barriers and connect with others, despite the challenges we might face. It will be eye-opening, I’m sure. My name is Mr. Smith, but to start things off right and equalize us all, I’d like you all to call me Julian.”