SUMMER
The rest of the morning was, mercifully, uneventful.
Turns out, walking around school with Alex and Maddox was its own kind of shield — nobody approached within a ten-foot radius. Even Camille kept her distance, though I caught her watching from across the hallway more than once, her expression carefully neutral in the way of someone who was planning rather than retreating.
Maddox, for his part, seemed entirely unbothered by anything that had happened and was dedicated to making the morning as entertaining as possible.
"No," I said, when he suggested we switch name tags in chemistry so the teacher would call me Maddox for the rest of the semester.
"You're killing creativity," he said.
"I'm preserving my academic record."
"Same thing."
He claimed the stool beside mine at the
