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EVAN AND I have study hall together in the library on Wednesdays and Fridays. This is great for my sanity, because Evan is exactly the kind of sympathetic-but-no-bullshit friend that I need after a long day of barely managing to slog through classes, but terrible for my productivity, because we inevitably end up talking the whole time.
The two of us take a table in the center of the study lounge—one of the good ones, with the plushy chairs instead of the plastic wheeled ones. I watch as he slides his laptop out of his backpack, closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Some of his hair flutters into his face, then flutters upward when he sighs.
"Sorry," he apologized. "I know I haven't been very fun lately. Sharice is probably on the verge of staging an intervention for my social life."
"Don't be ridiculous, Evan. If Sharice was about to start throwing interventions for that sort of thing, I'm sure I'd be first on the list."
"Their psychology program is just so good, you know? And the arts scene in Providence ... And it's close to home but not too close to home, you know, so my dad can't make me come home every other weekend. I know you know how much I love Hudson. I mean, everyone knows how much I love Hudson. I should spend less time talking about how much I love Hudson and more time working on my application, which is due in—"
I watch him do the math in his head.
"Six weeks. Oh, God," he groans.
"I thought people didn't have to submit their applications until the winter."
"I'm applying early so I can find out early," Evan explains. "This way I'll know by the middle of December if all of my dreams have been crushed or not."
"You're being dramatic," I say. I make a mental note to buy some of Evan's favorite chocolate at the end of November, just in case.
"This is coming from the girl who once said she might have to drop out of Clayton because douchebag might be contagious."
We are interrupted by a, "Hey."
Evan and I both look up at the girl standing next to our table, then look at each other in confusion, then look back.
Standing before us is Kilgrave Evangeline, also known as KG, Clayton Prep's resident smoke buddy. Next to her is Izzie from my philosophy class. We make eye contact briefly before I look away.
"Me and Izzie are going to Don's Pizza Shop. And you guys are like the only other decent people in this study hall, so ... you wanna come?"
Evan looks too confused to reply. I'm fairly sure that neither of us have ever talked to Kilgrave before in our lives. In fact, I'm shocked that she even knows who we are.
Thankfully, Evan manages to gather himself and say: "I think we're going to stay here and get some more work down. Thanks for the offer, though, really."
Kilgrave shrugs. "No worries. Maybe next time."
I watch until they're both out of the library before turning back to Evan. "That was ... weird."
Evan looks thoughtful. "You know, I had English with KG last year and she was actually pretty smart. Which just makes it so much weirder that she—you know."
He mimes taking a hit from a bong, which is hilarious. I laugh out loud and get shushed by the librarian.
"Well, anyway," he whispers. "We should do some work."
"I guess."
He puts his headphones in and starts typing on his laptop, and I spend the rest of study hall flipping through our first philosophy reading of the semester and wondering who would name their child Kilgrave.
