CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Samantha barged into Kyle’s and my dorm room. I was on the bed, sitting against the headboard, the pillow over my lap.
What is wrong with you? She looked angry. Her hands were balled into fists when she stopped talking.
You’re not supposed to be in here, I signed.
Tough. Where were you?
Here.
What about dinner and the library? She signed.
I wasn’t in the mood to talk, and I sure wasn’t in the mood to deal with Samantha’s explosive attitude. What’s your problem? You’re this mad because I forgot about meeting you guys for dinner?
And what about going to the library?
Forgot about that, too, I answered.
She reached into my wastepaper basket. She pulled out a crumpled up copy of the school newsletter. Did you forget about us, or did you just decide to blow us off?
Y
