I didn’t know which was more frustrating—his penchant for showing up at utterly embarrassing moments in my life, or the looks he gave me when he did—as though he knew more, saw more, understood better than anyone else on earth, and right then I kind of hated him for it.
I especially hated that it was probably going to happen a lot more now that we actually lived under the same roof.
“Cammie.” Zach took a step closer when I didn’t say anything. “Were you looking for me?”
“No. Why would you think…”
“My room.” He gestured to the end of the hall. I hadn’t really thought about where he was staying. It made sense, I guess, that they would move the Gallagher Academy’s first (and probably last) full-time male student into one of the empty faculty rooms. “Is that why you’re here?”
“Uh…no,” I said, wishing I could claim I was on some mission, that I had some perfectly logical reason for being there, but I came up with nothing.
Note to self #1: Looking cool is a lot easier when you are cool.
“Where’s Bex?” I asked.
“I don’t know.” Did he sound shocked or defensive? I couldn’t really tell.
“Oh.”
Note to self #2: Acting like you don’t care is a whole lot easier when you don’t care.
The silence that came next was deafening. I was just starting to long for the whispers of the library and the stares of Sublevel Three when Zach did the one thing that could make the moment worse.
He lowered his voice, asking, “Hey, are you okay?”
Were people ever going to stop asking me that? I honestly wanted to know. But not as much as I wished I knew how to answer it.
“Today”—he went on—“that wasn’t really you, you know.”
Maybe it was the ache in my head or the thought of him and Bex together all summer (and after)…Maybe it was the conversation I’d overheard, or all the other things that people were no doubt saying in all the places I couldn’t hear. But for some reason his words didn’t make me calm.
They made me angry.
“Oh, and you’d know the real me, would you? Because I’m pretty sure I’ve never known the real you.”
“Cam—”
“I mean, all this time I thought your parents were dead, Zach. I distinctly remember your telling me your parents were dead.”
“No. You remember assuming my parents were dead and my not correcting you.”
“But actually your mom is the woman who’s been chasing me for over a year,” I went on, as if he hadn’t spoken at all. “Which explains how you always knew so much, doesn’t it?” I gave him a hard look. “At least that explains something.”
“What are you doing here, Gallagher Girl?” He moved closer. He smelled like shampoo, and his skin glistened in the dim light. “What brought you here, really?”
I wanted to lie to him, but I didn’t dare. I was too certain he’d see through it, through me. But then salvation appeared in the form of a slightly balding man at the end of the hall.
“Dr. Steve,” I said calmly. “I came to talk to Dr. Steve.”
Casually, Zach glanced behind him to look at his teacher, and then he turned back to me.
“Well then, don’t let me stop you.” He brushed past me. His voice was a whisper when he said, “Believe it or not, Gallagher Girl, I’m all out of secrets.”
It was all I could do not to turn and watch him walk away, to pretend like I didn’t care—that whatever rift there was between us didn’t hurt. Luckily, there wasn’t time for any of that, not with Dr. Steve walking toward me, saying, “Hello, Cammie. Teenage rendezvous?” he asked, with a glance at Zach and a chuckle.
“No,” I said. “I’m here to talk to you.”
“Oh, very well, then. What can I do for you?”