Going Geek by Charlotte Huang Read Free Book Online Page B

the Canteen steps and duck into the bathroom. Even though there’s no one here, I run into a stall and lock the door behind me. After several minutes of trying to cry quietly into a balled-up wad of toilet paper, I feel reasonably sure that I can pull it together. Or at least fake it. I step out of the stall and stare in the mirror.
    My eyes are red-ringed and puffy, and my eyelashes stick together in wet spikes. The healthy bronze glow I acquired from a summer outside seems to have faded overnight. I get out my compact and lip gloss and do the best repair job I can. I perch my sunglasses on top of my head so that they’ll be accessible as soon as I step outside.
    It’s late enough that the dining rooms have thinned out. The thought of eating makes me nauseated, but I could use some coffee. I consider skipping classes, but I know all too well how easy it is to get behind here. That’s the last thing I need. Problems on top of problems.
    Of course, Whitney’s waiting for her toast by the buffet. I went to Upper Left on autopilot but clearly should’ve chosen one of the other dining rooms.
    “You look awful,” she says matter-of-factly.
    “Thanks,” I mutter.
    “Couldn’t sleep? Guilty conscience?” Whitney smirks as she smears peanut butter on her toast.
    No point in delaying the inevitable. “Leo found out. I didn’t even get a chance to tell him myself.”
    She doesn’t even look surprised. “Well, that was bound to happen. What did he say?”
    “He said we should take a little space for a bit.”
    Whitney shrugs. “Can’t blame him. That was a pretty big omission.”
    “Wow, Whit, thanks for your sympathy and concern.” I turn and walk out, sans caffeine. She calls after me in a wheedling, placating voice, but I don’t stop. She can pretend to be all concerned, but we both know that her reaction yesterday helped set the tone.

I sit through a full morning of classes, where I manage to raise my hand for attendance, collect syllabi, and not much else. Since I have a free period right after lunch, I make the trek back to Abbot. Hopefully I’ll have the room to myself.
    One of the doors on my floor is wide open, so I try to open my door as silently as possible.
    “So that was a bummer this morning.”
    I jump at the sound of the gravelly, braying voice and turn to see a tiny, freckled girl with fiery red hair pulled into a tight ponytail sticking her head out the open door. I’d say there’s no way that color is natural, but it complements her fair complexion perfectly, and honestly, she doesn’t look like the type to bother with her hair. She’s cute, but that voice and her jeans and running shoes—a combination that I’ve always found particularly frumpy—aren’t doing her any favors. “Um, excuse me?” I ask.
    “Getting dumped is a seriously sucky way to begin senior year, am I right?” she says.
    Between lack of sleep and fighting with Leo, my nerves are frayed, and I’m ready to snap. “That is not what happened. And I’m sorry, have we met?” I glare at her.
    “I’m Jess. We were in the same orientation group as first-years.” I suppose that I should feel bad enough to pretend I remember her, but Jess waves her hand as if to say she doesn’t care. “Save your breath. I like to keep a low profile anyway. So you were saying?”
    “I wasn’t actually. I’m still processing, and I don’t really know you, so maybe I can fill you in some other time.”
Like never.
    Inside my room I stare at my phone, hoping that Leo had a change of heart, when the door swings open and hits the wall. It’s not Opal (the only person who has the right to open my closed door without knocking) but Raksmey. At least she appears calmer than she did when we first met in the kitchenette.
    “We heard about you and Leo. I’m really sorry,” Raksmey says, then shifts to the side so that I see a girl standing behind her.
    I’m actually not surprised that something as noteworthy as problems between me