But this was Alistair, whom I’d come to think of as someone who went to my school—not just some shadow in a tunnel. Or what did they call it? A shade.

I took the terminus all the way out of my pocket and put it on my lap. I’m not actually sure what I would have done if Jerome hadn’t appeared and sat down next to me. Luckily, he took my opposite side, or he would have ended up right on top of Alistair.

“What’s that?” Jerome asked, nodding at the phone.

“Oh . . . Boo’s phone.”

“That’s her phone? How old is that thing?”

He reached for it, but I moved it aside.

“Shouldn’t you be studying?” I asked.

“I’m supposed to be meeting with my Latin group. But there are only five of us, and three left school.”

“Chickens.”

“Audaces fortuna iuvat.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“Fortune favors the brave,” both he and Alistair said at the same time.

Jerome shifted around a bit so that we were arm to arm and leg to leg.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “Why are you up here sitting on the floor?”

“It’s quiet,” I said. “And I just like floors.”

I think Jerome was prepared to take anything I said at that moment as a flirtatious remark. He had that look on his face that indicated that hormone levels were high and the time was right. Under any other circumstances, I would have been delighted. At the moment, I wasn’t feeling much of anything. I’d exhausted my supply of emotions.

“Oh, God,” Alistair said.

“Sorry,” I replied.

“Sorry for what?”

That was Jerome.

“I thought I . . . scratched you,” I lied. “With my nail.”

“Just do it,” Alistair said tiredly. “It happens all the time. I’m used to it.”

“Are you all right?” Jerome asked, his face close to mine. He sounded so English. Awl riiight. I didn’t answer. I kissed him.

Our previous making out had been a little frenzied. Today was different. We pressed our lips together and held them there. I could feel the warm air from his nose as he breathed in and out. We kissed each other’s necks. I started to warm up a bit and gave in to the slow molasses that was creeping back through my veins. Kissing is something that makes up for a lot of the other crap you have to put up with in school, and as a teenager in general. It can be confusing and weird and awkward, but sometimes it just makes you melt and forget everything that is going on. You could be in a burning building or a bus about to fall off a cliff. It doesn’t matter, because you are just a puddle. I was a puddle on the library floor, kissing the guy with the curly hair.