you guys lock up?” she called over her shoulder. Cruz and I exchanged a look and burst into laughter.
I rolled into bed that night, wondering what Ethan thought about coming here. I wouldn’t be surprised if his dad showed up without him. I thought about what Megan had said about Ethan.
He looked more angry than hurt to me. I sighed and put it out of my mind. I didn’t have time to worry about next week, I thought, grunting as I moved the furniture in front of my door.
As Cruz had said, I had bigger fish to fry.
CHAPTER TWENTY
THANKSGIVING
The atmosphere at school changed on Monday. It was a short week for everyone, and the air was charged with anticipation of a long break from the routine. Most classes scheduled midterm exams before the fall break, and I tried to focus on my schoolwork despite the lack of sleep that was grinding me down to a nub. Shuffling around campus in a trance-like state, I found myself drifting away, escaping into daydreams about swimming and surfing.
Ethan returned to art class, but I usually stumbled in late and was able to avoid having to sit by him. I was hurt by the way he had so easily turned his back on me, and all the friendliness and affection between us had vaporized. I focused the energy I had left on making it through until Wednesday, planning on trying to sleep during the day over the break. Mr. Briggs kept casting worried looks my way.
Tuesday night I woke up in the middle of moving the desk away from the door, which terrified me. Frantic, I sat up with the lights on until dawn, afraid to lie back down. I could sense that the barricade wasn’t going to work much longer. Forces pulled at me from the depths of the sea. Something powerful was taking control of my dreams.
It felt as though I was becoming a zombie, numbly wandering the halls with a growing sense of detachment. I was so tired I barely noticed Ethan follow me into art class. He slid into the seat next to me, and his leg kept brushing against mine. I felt like he was playing a cruel game, and I moved my chair as far away as I could in a fog of confusion and sadness. I couldn’t deal with one more thing. There was an art history slide show on our last day, and I fell asleep at my desk, overcome by exhaustion.
I was being pulled underwater, looking up to see the bottom of a boat grow smaller and smaller until it disappeared. I was crying, filled with unbearable sorrow, and it occurred to me that the whole ocean was made up of salty tears.
I woke up with Ethan’s hand on my shoulder, gently shaking me awake. The classroom had emptied out, and Mr. Briggs was shuffling papers at his desk. I bolted up, wiping my wet cheeks, and blindly groped for my purse.
“Are you alright?” Ethan asked, a panicked sound in his voice.
“I’m fine,” I said curtly, avoiding eye contact and rising to go.
“Have a nice Thanksgiving break,” Mr. Briggs called out as I passed his desk.
“Thanks, you too,” I said, looking down as I hurried by.
“And get some sleep!” he called after me.
Ethan chased me out to the parking lot, trying to get my attention, “Marina –” I sped up, pretending I didn’t hear, hoping he’d leave me alone.
He came up alongside me, “Marina?” his tone was softer.
I slowly turned, looking up at him suspiciously, “What?” I asked coldly.
“Please, I want to talk...” he said.
“This isn’t a good time,” I shook my head, overcome with fatigue.
“I’m worried about you,” he said, searching my eyes.
I was running out of the ability to resist, “Talk,” I said, trying not to come unraveled on the spot, only sheer stubbornness keeping me from breaking down into a sobbing heap.
“Let me drive you home,” he said, a pleading look in his blue eyes. I couldn’t look away. I felt weak, ashamed for being such a pushover. I reached into my purse for my keys.
“Fine,” I said almost inaudibly, “Can you give these to Cruz?” I was in no mood to explain anything to anybody.
Ethan jogged over to Cruz as I walked to his truck. He raced back, beating me to the door and opening it, watching as I climbed in.
He slid in behind the wheel, “Can we please go somewhere to talk?” he asked with hopeful eyes.
I looked down, not