Free Class by Cecily von Ziegesar Page A

parka and dirty Dexter sweatpants. They were the only clothes he had. “Hey, you’re that guy. Where’d you get this schmancy car?”
    “Found it,” he said. “Do you want a ride or not?”
    “Nah.” Tragedy removed herself from the window. “I’m holding out for Texas.” She planned to get as close to the border as possible, then stroll on into Mexico. She’d get a job making tacos or training donkeys.
    Patrick pulled away and eased the car up the hill toward campus. The gas light had been on all day. He pulled into the parking lot across from Coke, did his best to emulate his sister’s terrible parking job, and left the keys on the tire.
     
    S hipley squirmed in the front seat of Adam’s car while Professor Rosen disappeared inside the convenience store to pay forher gas and stock up on Pringles and Oreos, or whatever else sustained her.
    “I can’t believe I’ve only been here a week and my car was stolen,” Shipley fretted. “My dad’s going to kill me.”
    “Are your parents pretty strict?” Adam asked, only because his parents weren’t.
    “They’re not, not really,” she mused. It was she who was strict, with herself. How could she screw up when her brother had screwed up enough for the both of them? She was about to tell Adam all about Patrick and the tense silences between her parents at dinnertime, when Professor Rosen’s head loomed large in the open window.
    “Shipley Gilbert, do the words ‘roaming restrictions’ mean anything to you?” she demanded. There was no way for Shipley to know this, but roaming restrictions as a form of punishment had been put in place during her brother’s tenure at Dexter.
    Shipley sat up and glanced at Adam. His face was very red. “I’m sorry,” she stammered. “This isn’t his fault. My car was stolen. I thought the week was pretty much over, and I needed some bug repellent for tonight.”
    Professor Rosen frowned and turned her attention to Adam. “Maine plates” she observed. “You live around here?”
    Shipley decided not to remind her that she’d already been inside Adam’s house.
    Adam wondered if he was in for it now too. “Just a few miles away. River Road, toward China.”
    Professor Rosen’s eyes lit up. “No kidding. We’re on River too, the Homeward end.” She squinted at him for an awkward minute. Her hair was pretty, Shipley noticed for the first time, light brown with natural reddish blond highlights that reflected the sun. “I have to ask,” the professor continued. “You don’t happen to have any acting experience, do you?”

    Acting in front of an audience was not something Adam had ever considered. In fact, the idea terrified him. “No, not really. Sorry.”
    “Well, I’m putting on a one-act play. I do one every year. This year’s The Zoo Story by Edward Albee. Know it?”
    Adam shook his head.
    “There are only two parts, Peter and Jerry, and you’re just right for Peter.”
    “Okay.” Adam nodded politely, even though he had no intention of ever acting in the professor’s play.
    “What’s your name, anyway?”
    “Adam. Adam Gatz.”
    “All right, Adam. Think about it.” Professor Rosen rapped her knuckles on the roof of the car, directly above Shipley’s head. “Now, be a good kid and drive her back to campus where she belongs.”

6
    D exter was an earnest place. Eliza had been waiting all week for something ironic to happen—a deadly hailstorm of Hacky Sacks, or a Birkenstock-induced foot fungus requiring amputation—with no luck. And the student population was dead-set on being into things—the Woodsmen’s Team, football, the election, beer—that she simply could not get excited about. If she wanted to enjoy the next four years she would have to amuse herself. Which was fine. She was used to that. And there was certainly plenty of fodder.
    “It’s nice to know you’re not ashamed that your mothers still dress you,” she greeted Nick and Tom outside her dorm. The boys lived in Root,