Rules for Being a Girl - Candace Bushnell Page 0,60

down the hallway in my direction, his stupid messenger bag slung across his chest.

I gasp, freezing for one icy moment before I manage to make any words. “Um,” I announce, the sound coming out phlegmy and garbled. “I need to talk to you.”

Bex frowns. “Marin,” he says, with this tiny pause like I’m some random student he’s never taught before and he needs to search his mental contacts list for my name. “Shouldn’t you be in class?”

“I don’t think it really matters at this point, does it?” I shoot back. “You made sure of that.”

Bex’s eyes narrow for the briefest of moments. “Well, it’s pretty obvious you’re upset,” he observes mildly, like the emotion has nothing whatsoever to do with him, like I’m a character on a TV show he doesn’t much like. “Do you want to go somewhere and talk?”

“Somewhere like your apartment, you mean?”

It’s out before I can stop myself, and I think I shock us both in equal part: Bex’s lips thin, a muscle twitching erratically in his jaw.

“This is really inappropriate,” he murmurs with a shake of his head, turning away and making to brush past me down the hallway. “If you want to have a conversation related to your schoolwork, you know where to—”

I laugh out loud, hysterical and cackling like the witches from Macbeth. I know I sound exactly as crazy and ungovernable as everyone in this school already thinks I am, but for the first time since this all started I 100 percent do not care.

“Seriously?” I can’t help asking. “I’m inappropriate?”

“Enough.” All at once Bex turns around again, grabbing me by the arm and steering me down the hallway into the south stairwell, the door slamming shut behind us with a startling chunk. “Jesus Christ, Marin,” he says, bewildered. “What is your problem right now?”

In the back of my head it occurs to me to be afraid of him. Instead, I stand my ground, planting my feet on the linoleum and willing my voice not to shake. “Did you talk to the Brown admissions board about me?”

Bex’s expression doesn’t change, smooth and innocent as a Boy Scout’s, but his hands twitch at his sides.

“I— What makes you think that?” he asks, and then he clears his throat, and that’s when I know I’ve got him.

“You did.” Even after everything that’s happened there’s a part of me that didn’t believe it until right this moment, like surely no adult—no teacher—could be that awful and petty and mean. “Oh my god.”

“First of all—”

“How could you do this to me?” I interrupt, trying like all hell to swallow the sob I feel rising in my throat. Sounding a little emotional is one thing. Letting him see me cry is quite another. “Brown has been my dream my entire freaking life.”

Bex lets out a low, mean scoff. “I ruined your dream?” he echoes contemptuously, like I’m a little kid who still believes in Santa Claus. “You tried to ruin my life, Marin.”

For a moment I’m totally stunned. “I—what?”

Bex rolls his eyes, scrubbing a hand through his hair like he honestly cannot believe me. “My god,” he says, “you are so spoiled. Everyone in this school is spoiled, but especially you.”

I blink at him for a moment, caught up short. No adult has ever talked to me that way before. “How am I spoiled?” I ask, more baffled than offended. “You’re the one who—”

“You can play victim all you want, kiddo,” Bex interrupts. “You can act like you had nothing to do with any of this. But you and I both know the truth.”

I feel myself get very still. “What does that mean?”

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. You’re not a baby deer.” Bex rolls his eyes. “You were always around, Marin. Hanging out in the office. Making up excuses to ask for rides.”

“Wait a second,” I protest. “I never—”

“Sitting on my fucking desk, for Christ’s sake,” Bex continues. “What vibe did you think you were giving off, exactly? You wanted it, Marin. And maybe you freaked out and regretted it afterward, but I’m not going to sit around and let you make me out to be some kind of fucking sex predator when we both know you were every bit as responsible for what happened as I was. More, probably.”

I am crying now, I can’t even help it, tears slipping fast and silent down my face. For the first time in my life it’s like I’m all out of words.

“Fuck you,” is all I can