Shy? I was a lot of things, but I wasn’t shy. Just because I didn’t talk to him, just because he was boring, just because he had nothing to say. His eyes were watery and red, and I suddenly wondered what he would be like when he was forty. Would he be like Dirk Wallace? Who would I choose to marry? Dirk or Bryce? Not that those were my choices, but I was losing my mind, starting to wonder about the strangest things.

You wanna get high? Bryce said. You’re aaaagiitaated. I can tell.

Angry, agitated, call it what you want. The whole conversation with Mr. Locke, the principal, was bringing the fists back into me, I could feel them, a thousand fists pounding under taut skin.

Mr. Locke asked me to apologize to Mackie. He looked at me like I was contagious; he read my file and then gave me his lecture. His lecture went something like this:

Sara, it’s understandable that you have some antisocial tendencies, considering that you lived in That Place. But now you have the choice to become part of Normal Society. If you want to continue your studies here at Mount Douglas, then you’ll have to show a commitment to responsibility. I realize from Mr. Klein that you have been an attentive student and your boyfriend has been a bad influence. I’ll speak to Dean as well.

I mumbled Fuck Off when he blamed it on Dean.

That’s when he suggested the anger management classes. Held from 4:30 to 6:00 at the Boys and Girls Club.

Anger management—the phrase made me laugh. As if anger was something you could manage like a bank account or a small business. Put this fury here and let it earn some interest for seventy days. Yeah, fuck off.

I didn’t pull the knife on Mackie because I’m angry, I said to Principal Dave Locke, who, by the way, is known as Shaved Cock. I did it because he’s really mean—

That was pretty much the end of my education, as soon as I said that.

Bryce was lounging, leaning back against a fallen log. He looked like the happiest guy alive. I could never have a serious conversation with him. I could never say, Tell me why you did that to Heather. How could you do that? Why would you do that?

Because he’d just smile, shrug his shoulders, and say, Don’t know, don’t care.

I felt the blade against my warm skin. I hadn’t even showered since the whole rolling-Dirk-Wallace episode. Still, there was enough Love’s Baby Soft on me that I could probably last for days before anyone noticed that I was incredibly unclean.

Where’s Dean? Bryce asked, opening his eyes at last.

How should I know?

He’s your man.

He’s not my man. I dumped him.