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“Please?” Which, when you think about it, could be a perfect meme.
    At which time, my inner mantra evolved to I am not going to strangle him, I am not going to strangle him.
    I grabbed my backpack and schedule, and, shirt unbuttoned and hanging out, I threw my untied tie over one shoulder and my Pine Mountain sweater over the other and stormed—without tripping once!—out of our ( my ) fucking dorm room.

CHAPTER NINE
    â€œIT HASN’T BEEN TWENTY-FOUR hours, and I just can’t take him anymore.”
    I was sitting in the dining hall before class with Annie, JP, Seanie, and Annie’s roommate, Isabel, whom I still found to be wildly hot. Also, there was something dramatically different about Isabel, but I couldn’t exactly put my finger on it. So I concluded it had to be one thing: Isabel had lost her virginity over the summer.
    What else could it possibly be?
    She had this all-knowing, goddesslike, and voluptuous look in her simmering black eyes. I had to find out. She would tell Annie, right? Because girls do that, right? Just like guys, right? I need to know these things. I had to get Annie to find out for me if Isabel had lost her virginity, and who it was with, and if she wanted to sit around a campfire or something and tell me about it. Tonight, if possible.
    â€œHave you even heard one thing I’ve said to you, Ryan Dean?”
    Annie was so hot when she got that scolding voice.
    â€œHuh?” I said, suddenly aware that I’d been sitting there for at least five minutes at breakfast with my friends, thinking about Isabel having sex, and then thinking about Isabel talking to me about having sex. And a campfire, which, like having sex, is alsospecifically against the rules at Pine Mountain.
    â€œWell, clearly you’re misleading yourself if you think you’re not going to at least be kind to him. Leaving him alone this morning was a very thoughtful thing for you to do,” Annie said.
    â€œHuh?” I was still thinking about Isabel and sex, as opposed to Sam Abernathy taking a shower, and my compassion toward him.
    â€œIt stands to reason that Winger and the little guy would bond,” JP added. “After all, they have so much in common. And besides, you’ve got to feel sorry for a kid with irrational fears, right, Ryan Dean? You’re not afraid of anything, are you ?”
    For just a second, I thought I saw a flash of that dude in the black cloak—Nate—looking at me from over JP’s shoulder.
    I hated JP Tureau.
    Annie shifted in her seat and cleared her throat, which was her way of letting us know she didn’t appreciate it when JP and I picked on each other around her.
    Then Isabel looked at me with her liquid black eyes and said, “You should ask him to hang out with us at dinner tonight. That would be so cool of you to introduce him to some older friends, Ryan Dean.”
    â€œWhat?!!” I was shocked. Also, to be honest, I was imagining Isabel naked.
    I just can’t help these things. Nobody can, right?
    Seanie slapped the table and shook his head decisively. “Thereare certain social barriers that cannot be broken. Inviting a freshman to sit at a senior table could only end up in total anarchy.”
    Seanie Flaherty was rarely the voice of reason, but when he rose to the occasion, it was like drifting into a life raft when you’re treading water in the middle of the Pacific.
    â€œNobody wants total anarchy,” I said.
    â€¢Â Â â€¢Â Â â€¢
    Everyone knew the game plan for senior year.
    It was supposed to be easy, right? I’d taken my SAT in June (I aced it, thank you very much), had been working on my college apps (as a gesture to my parents, I sent one to Harvard and one to MIT, even though I already knew I wanted to go to school in California, dude), and had completed all the core requirements for graduating from Pine Mountain. To top it off, pretty much all I had to do this year was