Page 56 of The Academy
Levi looks like he’s gonna pop a boner—Ravenna is touching him!—and Charley takes that as her cue to leave early. “I have to go,” she says. “I have to study.”
“Keep your ears open on the first floor,” Ravenna says. “My money is on a fifth-form girl. Your class is a bunch of troublemakers.”
Charley takes a shower, washes her hair, and does the extra step of combing through her conditioner. Back in her room, she rummages through the bottom of her closet for the blow-dryer and round brush her mother gave her as a going-away-to-school present, “just in case you ever want to do something different with your hair.” Charley knew Fran had been stalking other Tiffin students on Instagram and noticed they all wore their hair down.
Charley clicks on YouTube, searches for “How to Achieve the Perfect Blowout,” and gets to work.
Half an hour later, she gazes in the mirror. Her hair, which might generously be called “dishwater blond,” now has hints of honey as it flows over her shoulders. Is this her? She takes off her glasses. Her mother also sent her with five pairs of disposable contact lenses, but Charley hates them; they feel like suction cups on her eyeballs.
The hair, she decides, is enough.
She skips dinner; she doesn’t want to be seen, and so she nibbles at crackers as she waits for East to text. He normally reaches out between seven thirty and eight with the downward arrow emoji. When, at eight twenty, she hasn’t heard from him, Charley texts him the down arrow emoji followed by a question mark.
He responds:My bad. I’m getting extra help from Bergeron tonight.
Charley flinches like she’s been smacked and emotion rolls over her like Attila the Hun invading Gaul. She went to all this trouble and he’scanceling? The end of the semester looms, but why didn’t he get extra helplastnight? Of course, as soon as she admits to herself that these meet-ups are important to her, he backs off. He was going to kiss her Tuesday night, she’s sure of it, but she torched the moment.Maybe he’s pissed, maybe he figures she’s not into him. She snatches up her backpack and storms into the common room to check out to the Sink—but instead of finding Bergeron, it’s Ms. Vandermeid.
Right,Charley thinks.Because Miss Bergeron is with East.
“I’m going to the Sink,” she says. “Charley Hicks.”
“You’re new this year,” Ms. Vandermeid says. “How are you liking Tiffin?”
“I’m not,” Charley snaps.
Ms. Vandermeid studies Charley long enough for Charley to feel like a petulant child. She probably should have played along, Ms. Vandermeid is the college counselor and will be in charge of Charley’s future next year.
Ms. Vandermeid nods. “I feel that way too sometimes. You’re free to go. Have a productive night.”
Fuck Priorities,Charley thinks as she bolts for the Sink. It’s never going to happen anyway; how is he going to get materials downstairs—flooring, paint, a slab of granite, furniture—without anyone finding out? At the very least, Mr. James will notice. East claims he’s been on DIY sites learning how to install light fixtures and put up wallpaper, but there’s just no way. Priorities is going to end up being a nothingburger. Charley should be glad she isn’t wasting her time.
Except she’s not glad. When she walks into the Sink and sees Taylor and Hakeem studying side by side—they’re doing problem sets for pre-calc, which Charley needs to finish as well, she’s behind—she feels like someone is choking her. East doesn’t like her, he was teasing about her hair, he would never like her, she has prided herself on not being delusional and here she is, fucking delusional.
She races up to the third-floor bathroom; it’s as good a place as any to cry, but when she pushes in, she hears someone retching.
“Davi?” she says.
The toilet flushes and Davi emerges, eyes watering. She moves past Charley to the sink, where she rinses her mouth and washes her hands.
“Barbacoa again?” Charley says.
Davi holds Charley’s gaze in the mirror. “It’s my business, okay?”
Charley knows the right thing is to offer help:I’m here for you if you want to talk,orDo you want me to help you find counseling?But she knows nothing about eating disorders and she can’t exactly judge Davi when she’s such a mess herself.
“Okay,” Charley says. “I just came up here so I could cry in peace.”
“I thought I was the only one who knew this bathroom existed,” Davi says.
“Well, you’re not.”
“Cinnamon and I had some of our best talks here,” Davi says. “Out of the dorm, you know. Away from everyone else.” Her eyes narrow. “You hair looks… amazing. Did you blow itout?”
Charley shrugs.
“Well, if you ever want to do makeup…”
“I’m good, thanks,” Charley says.
