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“Forty-two.”
She blinks, her dark eyebrows shooting up. “Okay. Oddly specific, but okay?”
She hooks her arm through mine and steers me toward the high-rise elevators. “Walk and talk. You look like you’re about to either cry or commit a crime, and I need to know which one to prepare for.”
“Possibly both,” I admit, letting her drag me along the familiar chaos of the residence halls.
“Julian Thorne looked like he was about to put his fist through the wall on his way out,” she says. “Which means whatever happened in Mathias' room was clearly catastrophic.”
“Yep.” A catastrophe.
“Surely it wasn’t that bad?” She pushes.
The elevator doors slide open with a dull chime. Maddie hits the button for the eighth floor, where both our rooms are located, as the elevator begins its vertical climb away from the chaos below.
Maddie sits on the foot of my bed while I lean against the opposite wall and tell her about the whole disaster. She listens with her legs crossed, leaning back onto her hands, and when I finish, she is quiet for a couple of seconds, which, for Maddie, is considered a lifetime. She never shuts up.
“A duet,” she says, weighing it up.
“A duet.”
“With Julian Thorne?”
“The very one.”
“For the Spring Showcase.”
“Mathias said we need to merge our worlds.” I let my head thump back against the wall. “How are we going to prepare something this close to the Showcase? It’s never going to work.”
Maddie is quiet for another second. Then a strange glint appears in her eyes—the exact one I have learned to distrust. “Okay, hear me out.”
“Maddie, no.”
“I’m just saying—”
“Whatever you are about to say, don’t.”
She continues anyway, completely ignoring my warning. “It’s kind of poetic, isn’t it? In a way that the two of you are either going to end up in jail or fuc—”
“Stop! That is absolutely not going to happen. No way!”
“I’m not so sure,” she states. “I told you before the year started that there was some weird tension between you two. There has been since the first year. I called this.”
“He is—” I stop. “Maddie, he has spent over a year being an absolute dick to me.”
“Screaming for your attention more like. He definitely wants to fu—” She smirks.
“Maddie. I need to meet him at six.” I push off the wall and pace aimlessly around the room.
“That’s hours away,” she shrugs.
“I know how long hours are.”
“Girl, you could sleep. You look terrible. I mean it in a caring way, but you do look awful.” Maddie stands, grabbing her flute from the rumpled bed that I haven’t made yet. “Listen to me, Ellise. You are going to go there tonight, and you are going to be extraordinary.” She offers a warm and encouraging smile. “Just don’t let him see you sweat. And please, don’t break the violin by hitting him over the head with it. It’s too expensive.”
She moves toward the door. Her hand rests on the knob. Then, she stops. Spinning back around, she flashes me another supportive smile.
“And if he tries to pull any of his usual toxic alpha-musician bullshit.” Her eyebrows knit together. “Use the bow. It’s got a better reach.”