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headmistress. "I think Xander met him once, though."
    Xander nodded, his bowl of cold soup forgotten. Until now, I still can't quite get over the fact that he looked like Blake's twin but he doesn't end up ruining all his good features by being arrogant and cocky. Instead, he's someone who looks intelligent and capable. Not that Blake isn't capable-looking, of course. But Xander has this authority around him that no one questions. "I was his partner at self-defense class."
    "Self-defense?" I asked, perplexed to hear that such a class existed here, and elated that I was having a conversation with Xander. This was our first real conversation.
    "Yes. It's not for first years," he said, and I slumped down on my seat. I don't know any kind of sport or self-defense, and I would like to try it out. My old self would cringe, but this is another way to develop my new personality.
    Besides, I need to know how to defend myself so that when someone tries to attack me by knifing my face or hurling gasoline at me, I won't be a sitting duck. I should ask Reid when I see him.
    But he's not the person I see lounging around the library on my usual spot. Of course, Spencer is here. This was his spot too. We had been using this table sometimes together and sometimes on separate occasions.
    I realized after the incident outside my room when we almost kissed that this was the first time we would be spending time alone together. I slid silently on the opposite side of the booth and busied myself with the books in front of me, mirroring his serious expression. Did he feel uncomfortable with me joining him here? But it was my spot too, and, since the library was packed, I didn't have a choice.
    He can tell me if he doesn't want to be near me, of course. I would understand. For all I know, this must have been his booth since before I came here, and seniority dictates he be the one to claim it. I managed a quick look at him, but regretted it when I saw that he was looking at me, though his head was still bent low.
    I cleared my throat and wrote my notes furiously, the awkwardness between us thickening by the minute.
    "We should talk," he began.
    "About what?" I asked, the message that there's nothing to talk about already implied.
    "What happened in Physics?" he asked, diverting the topic suddenly.
    But it's not enough diversion, since what I'm remembering is being alone on our group and doing all the work. "Not much. Did you enjoy your day out?"
    He didn't answer for a few minutes and when I checked, he looked discomfited. "I didn't go out."
    "Then where were you?" It was hard asking him without sounding angry, but I had to try, since I had no right to be angry. But the next sentence out of my mouth was far from what I expected. "Let me guess, holing up in Alice's room, right?"
    He looked at me with alarm. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He closed his mouth again and looked around just in case anyone was eavesdropping. "Yes."
    I have never been punched before, but now I know how it felt. The air from your lungs is sucked out, and you can't breathe. You feel disoriented and you're not sure if the pain's already gone or it's just too much that you feel numb already. That's what I felt when I heard him say it, so blatant and plain. Like he didn't care about what almost happened between us at all.
    I looked at him accusingly, letting him know that it hurt. But he didn't meet my gaze.
    I have to get out of here.
    I heard him calling after me, as silent as possible in the library but as loud and clear to make sure I heard him, but I didn't care.
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    I found myself retracing the steps we had used when we left school last time. It wasn't hard to find where the path ended and the village begun. You just had to listen to the sound of guitars and laughter and you wouldn't be lost. I don't even know what I'm going to do outside. I just knew I had to leave that school because wherever I went, Spencer would be there to follow me.
    But he