Breaking Bailey Page 6
And everyone at Campbell loves her. That’s clear. I swear everyone we walked by said hello to her by name, even some of the older kids. Of course. Who wouldn’t love Bex? She’s funny and caring and pretty and tough.
The drive didn’t take too long, and Warren and I snuggled in the backseat the whole way there. We split up when we pulled into Campbell’s visitor parking lot. Drew and Katy went to go find Drew’s little brother, and Warren and I headed to Bex’s dorm. Her face when she saw Warren was with me and I introduced him as my boyfriend! Priceless. I thought she was going to fall over dead of shock. We took her to lunch. She requested a restaurant off campus, naturally, and a kind of funky one that wasn’t a chain. A gastropub, she said, like she knows all about gastropubs or something. So sophisticated now. Ha. Warren, sweetly, picked up the check. And when Warren went to the bathroom and we had a moment alone, she told me she liked him. She said he was funny, and cute in a geeky way, which is Bex speak for “not my style but I can see why you like him.”
We met up with Drew and Katy and Drew’s little brother Matt. Matt and Bex know each other, even though Matt is a year older. Bex got a little quiet around him, and I will definitely be teasing her later about that. How funny would it be if Bex’s first crush was Drew’s little brother? He’s like a miniature version of Drew, but maybe a little sweeter, so why not?
Bex loved her boots and coat! She couldn’t believe I got them for her, and she was super impressed that I’d picked that particular brand. She asked how in the world I could afford it, and Warren answered her by saying that since I’m not going home for the holidays I could give her Christmas now. Bex accepted that pretty easily, and I was grateful to Warren for covering for me. I feel stupid for not thinking about how to answer that question before.
It was kind of weird (and awesome, really) to see how much Bex looks up to me. She clearly had heard my friends’ names before, so now I’m the coolest ever in her eyes. But I could see it even more when I told her I was thinking of doing a summer program at Princeton. I always think of her as naturally so much cooler and social than me, so it never occurred to me that she would admire me for anything other than just being older.
Now I’m sitting here wondering what Bex would do if she found out about Science Club. She’s too young to understand, really. She would just see it in black and white; one mention of drugs and she’d be mad, disappointed, and probably scared for me. How could I possibly make her understand how I see it? Would she get how much I need loyal friends? Or that I’ve been so lonely? Or that it’s helping me get out of the grieving hole?
November 6
The high of a carefree day with Bex wore off, and I was slammed back into the reality of unrelenting work at Prescott.
At least, thank goodness, Emily seems to be back to her old self. No more mention of Warren. No more snarly, jealous comments. She actually suggested we go to dinner together, and we did, but I had to bail on watching movies tonight. I’m just too panicked about all the classwork piling up.
That Macbeth paper is like a rain cloud looming over me constantly. Mr. Callahan continues to give me extra work on the side in chemistry, and it’s challenging but also fun, so I never dread it and do it first. Calculus is the same way. Civics is tougher. With everything going on, I feel like it’s hard to keep all the civics stuff straight, and since I certainly have no aspirations to be a politician or lawyer, there’s no reason TO keep it all straight.
I did my calculus and started on my Macbeth paper, even though everything I wrote sounds stupid and I’ll probably have to redo it. I finished most of calculus and then packed up and headed to the lab.
I actually beat Warren there, and he was startled when he walked in. He seemed a little frazzled, but then he just seemed grateful to see me. He kissed me so hard we almost tumbled into some chemical bottles.
Me: Rough day?
Warren: Much better now. What is with everyone demanding everything all at once?
Me: I think our teachers are all freaking out that they still have so much to cover before the end of the semester and are taking it out on us. Did you get all your work done?
Warren: Yeah. You?
Me, pushing my chemistry book toward him: Go over these with me? I just want to make sure I’m right.
Warren, taking the book and a kiss as well: You usually are. You’re the most gifted chemist I’ve met. At Prescott, anyway. Genius.
Me: Ha! I’m not the one who manages to gets straight As while also running a full-time business. How do you do it?
Warren: I’ve made a clone of myself so I can be in two places at once. Which Warren is the real Warren? Maybe I’m the clone. What if I’m the clone, Bailey?
Me, swatting at him playfully: Seriously! How?
Warren, suddenly sobering: Magic, I guess. And luck. And I never get much sleep.
I laughed, but . . . I don’t know. It was like I suddenly NOTICED. I looked at him and didn’t just see my adorable boyfriend; I saw the dark circles under his eyes, the slight droop of his shoulders, and how thin he really is.
I’m going to help more. I told him I could be at the lab more to check in on our work and do more of the process than I usually do. He told me not to worry about it, but I saw relief flash in his eyes, so I insisted.
I don’t know how exactly I’ll put in more time at the lab, but I have to. I’ll just work on homework here more often or get less sleep myself. But I do know I can’t let Warren take on all of this by himself.
It will be fine. That’s what I keep telling myself, anyway.
November 8
Had the scare of my life tonight. I legitimately believe it took a few years off my life.
I was in the lab alone, just me and my civics book and the quiet bubbling of all the tubes and pots around me, when I heard the doors open and shut above me. I called out, thinking I’d hear Katy or Drew answer back, or even Warren if he decided to come in after all. But instead a superdeep male voice answered, and an imposing shadow appeared in the doorway.
My heart nearly stopped.
Not only was I alone, I was also surrounded by evidence of a highly illegal business.
The figure stepped down into the basement’s fluorescent lights and it was a police officer. Campus security, I guessed. He had a badge but also a hat that had Prescott’s crest on it. In the light, I could see that he was just as surprised to see me as I was to see him. I stepped in front of the largest vat of chemicals, futilely.
Officer: You’re not Katy.
Me: No, sir. I can, um, call her if you need her.
Officer: No, it’s okay. Are you the newest member?
Me: Oh. Um . . . I . . .
Officer, smiling: I’ll take that as a yes. I’m Mark. Campus security.
Me: I gathered. Um, what can I help you with, Mark? I’m just here doing homework.
Officer: You can drop the pretense. Apparently they haven’t explained how things work.
He walked toward me, hand extended to shake. I shook it, in shock.
Me: Hi . . . Mark. I’m Bailey. I’m sorry, but what exactly have they not explained to me?
Mark: Oh! Right. It would be better if they explained. Plausible deniability and all that. But Drew or Katy was supposed to meet me here tonight.
Speak of the devil, Drew appeared, thundering down the stairs in a rush. He and Mark greeted each other, smiling, with a macho hug like guys are prone to doing, while I’m standing in the background with all my blood in my feet and not breathing well. They chatted like old friends for a few minutes, catching up on each other’s lives. Apparently Mark’s wife is expecting another child in May. Then Drew took out a thick envelope from his back pocket and slipped it into Mark’s breast pocket. Mark thanked him, said he’d keep in touch, and was on his way.
I sat down on a metal stool and tried to breathe.
Me: What the hell was that?
Drew, sheepish: I’m sorry, Bailey. I should have told you this before. Mark is a security guard.
Me: I can at least follow that, thank you. Why the hell didn’t he arrest me? Or you? And obviously he knows about what we do?
So Drew told me. For as long as they’ve had Science Club, which has been three years now, they’ve had Mark. Drew discovered he was easily swayed by money, and so they made an arrangement: Mark gets paid a tidy sum monthly in exchange for his silence to Prescott and the police about us, he makes sure his reports about this building always say it’s secure and untouched, and he gives us any info that may be valuable, like if the janitors decide to come in and clean or if the admin gets suspicious.
It all makes total sense, of course, but I feel like I’m in a movie or something. A mob movie. This can’t possibly be my life, that I’m doing something a crooked cop covers up for a price, right? But I am. This is reality. I am making drugs that are sold. And if Mark cracks or something goes wrong, I could go to prison.
Drew, his hand on mine comfortingly: We have to involve others. It’s just the nature of the game. But I make sure we can trust them. Don’t worry, okay? I have this covered. Trust ME.
And the strange thing is, I do. I trust him, and Katy, and Warren. They really know what they’re doing.
I guess you could say I trust them with my life.
November 13
Another night that I just cannot concentrate enough to work on that damned Macbeth paper. I got everything else done, though, and I still have a few days for the paper, so it will be okay. I worked at the lab with Warren (and okay, there was some pretty heavy making out in addition to work, but nothing blew up this time) for a few hours and came back to the dorm. Emily was here working, and she asked me if I’m ready for the civics test, and I think I am. Then . . .
Emily: Did he ask you to stay with him over holiday break?
Me, awkwardly: Warren? Um, not like WITH him. Just that we will both be here. Are you going home?
Emily, totally ignoring my question: I thought he’d come home.
Me: Right. You’re from the same town. I kind of forgot that. It’s right outside of Wiltshire, right?
Emily: Kingsley. It’s not far from here. I can come back if I need to.
Me: Um, sure. I’m sure I’ll be fine, though. I mean, it will be nice to have free rein of campus with almost everyone gone.
Emily: Yeah. Have fun.
She threw her headphones in and started watching a movie on her laptop, jotting notes in a little notepad she always carries around with her. It shook me a bit, that she just basically wanted to know about Warren. A little of that weird tunnel vision. I don’t feel like she’s abnormal in any way except for that, this obsession with him, and when she slips into it it’s really uncomfortable. He told me she has a lot to sort out, and I can be patient while she does, but this part of it, with Warren, is going to get old soon. I may have to confront her about that, and that’s really the last thing I want to do. She needs to understand that it’s over between them, and he’s with me now. Undoubtedly with me.
What could Warren have seen in her? I don’t consider myself pretty, really. I’m certainly no Katy Ashton, but I’m not plain. Emily . . . is. She’s got kind of rounded, soft features and big eyes, but her hair is medium length and stuck in a weird in-between shade of brown and blond, she’s not too tall and not too short, and she’s not thin but she’s not curvy, either. There’s just nothing that really stands out.
I shouldn’t say that. She’s super smart. Probably smarter than me in a lot of ways. And goodness knows Warren isn’t in it for looks with me. I guess I’m just curious and a little . . . Wait. Am I jealous? Is this what jealousy feels like? Ugh. I suppose I could talk to Katy about it, maybe get her advice about how to talk to Emily, but I have a feeling Katy would tell me to go full nuclear on her, and I don’t want to do that. It wouldn’t go over well with us being roommates, not to mention her issues, but I also just don’t want to do that to Emily. Everyone else has deserted her, and I know all too well how that feels.
Mom would know how to handle this. She was always so patient with everyone, always gave people the benefit of the doubt, and always looked for the best in people. She’d help me with Emily. But I guess I’ll never know what advice she would have given me.
November 15
Yeah. You know how I’ve had some really good days at Prescott and it’s been amazing?
This was the worst day I’ve had at Prescott.
I stayed up all night to do that stupid Macbeth paper, and it still turned out like actual crap. And I should have spent more time studying for civics, or at least getting some sleep last night. The teacher handed the graded tests back and I got a B-. I’ve never gotten a B- on anything in all my life. That’s only a small step up from a C! And a C is as good as failing.
The Club tried to comfort me by taking me for a burger and fries at a little diner not far off campus, but I felt guilty spending that time away from my books. Warren asked me if I wanted to stay the night with him. Just sleeping, he clarified, and I’m glad because I’m not quite sure I’m ready for anything else yet. He’s amazing but . . . I never have, so . . . yeah, nervous and I feel sort of embarrassed, I guess, that I’m so inexperienced. BUT ANYWAY. That said, I’m not sure “just sleeping” would be a thing that could happen if I was allowed to be next to him all night. But God, his arms around me all night after the day I’ve had? Hard to turn down.
We said good-bye to Katy and Drew and he walked me home. He kissed me really sweetly and hugged me close and told me all we had to do was make it until the holiday break. Then we could be alone and not have to worry about classes or homework or anyone else but the two of us. And sure, all that time alone with Warren is a little scary, too, but in a good way. A really good way.
He’s right. One step at a time. And there’s so much to look forward to.
November 20
C.
That’s what I got on the Macbeth paper.
I don’t know what I’m going to do. I have a few more small assignments and the exam, but basically, this paper is such a huge part of my grade that I’d need to be perfect on all of those things to average a B.
I didn’t tell Warren or Katy or Drew. As a matter of fact, I didn’t even go to the lab tonight. I asked Warren if he could handle doing it all on his own and he said of course. He looked concerned and I could tell he wanted to ask, but I quickly made an excuse and came back to my room as fast as I could. I suppose if he texts tonight I’ll tell him, but I’m so embarrassed. Especially since he has it together so well.
Emily, however, was amazing tonight. She was here when I got home from classes and immediately knew something was wrong and I . . . I just broke down. I told her I was afraid that I couldn’t keep up with Prescott’s classes and that with everything else going on (I did not say what, but I’m sure she thought I meant Warren and nothing else), I was falling behind.
She handed me a box of tissues and talked me through it, but first she picked up her laptop and ordered pizza for us.
By the time the pizza arrived, she’d talked me safely out of the panic attack zone. She also admitted to me that she has a hard time keeping up too. I should have realized that. Of course that’s why she’s always gone. She’s working on her writing or her films in addition to all the classes we’re taking. She puts in as many hours as I do. Probably more. She never seems to sleep.
Then she told me she’d help me with English if I wanted, and suggested asking the teacher for some extra credit. Apparently this teacher gives it out like candy if you ask.
I thanked her, and confessed that I kind of thought maybe she hated me. Just a little.
Emily: I don’t hate you. I mean, I kind of think we’re friends? At least I’d like to be.
I didn’t realize what a relief it would be to hear that. Because that meant maybe living with her while dating Warren wouldn’t have to be so hard. But also because . . . well, if I’m honest, if Emily can still want to be friends with me even if she’s still not over my boyfriend, she’
s going to be there through thick and thin, right? And I could use a friend like that.
Me: We’re friends. I just thought that maybe things had changed. Because of Warren.
Emily: I was upset, I guess. Kind of mad, actually. I was just so into him. He’s so confident and smart and . . . all of those good things, you know? He’s perfect. Or at least I thought he was. But he’s soooo not. And I can see that now. You know what I mean. I’m sure you’ve seen it by now too.
Me, not at all sure I “know” what she’s talking about in the slightest: Sure.
Emily: Thought so. Just be careful. He’ll get you hooked.
Me: I’ll be careful.
When I was stuffed with pizza and feeling much better about things, Emily said she was going to go to the AV room for a while, and I was truthfully a little happy to have some time to myself. I took a long shower and sulked and I’m going to take advantage of Warren working for me tonight and get to bed early.
November 22
So tonight, Warren and I were alone in the lab, which isn’t unusual. Katy and Drew stop in a lot but are rarely part of the process. Things are going so well with the product. He and I have found such a great rhythm together that we practically communicate with our own language. With a glance or hum or slight shake of our heads, we tell each other everything we need to know.
And, uh, there are times when those things communicate another type of message entirely, and we tug off our gloves and goggles and his mouth meets mine without a single word ever having been exchanged.
Tonight we were probably fifteen minutes into a heavy make-out session when Warren pulled back and looked at me with those gorgeous eyes of his.
Warren: So, holiday break . . . Drew is going home.
Me: So is Emily.
Warren: So, we’ll both be alone. In our dorms. With no one there to interfere.
Me: Or miss us if we’re gone. But what about the dorm advisers? Won’t they be patrolling?