Free Cecily Von Ziegesar by Cum Laude (v5)

couldn’t remember his name. “I was just going down the road to buy cigarettes. I lost my car,” she explained, opening the VW’s passenger door.
    â€œHere. Sorry.” Adam swept the pile of books and caseless cassettes from the front seat to the back so she could get in. “Do you want to file a report with the police—for your car, I mean?”
    Shipley yanked her denim miniskirt down over the tops of her legs. “Police? No, that’s all right. I just want some cigarettes.”
    The car careened down the hill toward town. Monday had been Labor Day, and summer’s warm breath was already tainted with the chilly afternote of fall. Soon the leaves would turn and the woods around campus would echo with the sounds of gunshots. Hunting was big in Home.
    â€œAre you going to the barbecue tonight?” Shipley asked brightly. “I heard there’s going to be a band and everything.”
    Adam turned on the radio and quickly switched it off again, unsure of what to do with his hands besides change gears and rotate the steering wheel. “I would go if…” His voice trailed off. Why had he begun the sentence that way? If what ? If she wentwith him and held his hand? If she promised to go home with him afterward? If she let him kiss her?
    Shipley didn’t seem to mind that he’d left a blank for her to fill. “Well, we’re going. Me and my roommate, Eliza, and Nick and Tom.” She cocked her blond head. “We’ve been hanging out all week.”
    Adam bristled at the mention of Tom, his apparent rival, and abruptly changed the subject. “How long have you smoked?”
    â€œI only just started.” Shipley laughed. “It’s not like I’m addicted or anything. I’m just trying it out.”
    Adam squeezed the button that dispensed windshield wiper fluid onto the windshield and switched on the wipers. They flapped wildly back and forth before he could stop them again. Scummy blue fluid dripped into the open windows. “Sorry,” he muttered, annoyed with himself.
    The gas station was just ahead. “You can drop me off here,” Shipley told him. “I don’t mind walking back.” She was about to get out of the car when she saw Professor Rosen pumping gas into a white minivan.
    â€œShit!” she cursed, ducking down in her seat. “I’m not supposed to be off-campus.” She glanced at Adam and smiled, her cheeks flushed. “Do you mind just sitting here until she leaves?”
    Mind?
    Adam switched off the engine and slipped down in his seat so their heads were at the same level. It was very romantic. Or it would have been if he could think of something to say. Instead he just stared at her. He could stare at her all day. Don’t talk. Just kiss her! Tragedy’s disembodied voice shouted. And even though he wanted to—oh, how he wanted to—he thought it might be wise to become friends first.
    â€œAre you liking Dexter so far?” he asked.
    Shipley shrugged her shoulders and nodded her head in a so-so sort of way, obviously bored by his boring question. She glanced around the car for something with his name on it, feeling stupid that she still couldn’t remember. “You didn’t get into any trouble, did you?”
    Adam shrugged his shoulders. “My parents were kind of surprised to find all that beer and wine gone, but they didn’t really mind. And I don’t think the professor knew I was a student.”
    It was becoming increasingly apparent that as a day student Adam would not get the full college experience. His mother still made his eggs and did his laundry. His father still helped him with his car and whistled while he was trying to read. He still had to take out the trash. He still had to endure Tragedy parading on the porch and belting out show tunes while she watered the geraniums. He never had to wait in line for the shower in the morning, and he