Fangirl

rabbit-shaped stone in the ritual tower, the stained glass hare in the cathedral, the sigil on the drawbridge—
    “Snow!” Baz shouted. A spell book sailed past Simon’s nose.
    “What are you thinking ?” Simon asked, genuinely surprised. Flying books and curses were fair game in the hallways and classrooms and, well, everywhere else. But if Baz tried to hurt him inside their room—“The Roommate’s Anathema,” Simon said. “You’ll be expelled.”
    “Which is why I missed. I know the rules,” Baz muttered, rubbing his eyes. “Did you know, Snow, that if your roommate dies during the school year, they give you top marks, just out of sympathy?”
    “That’s a myth,” Simon said.
    “Lucky for you I’m already getting top marks.”
    Simon stopped pacing to really look at his roommate. Normally he liked to pretend that Baz wasn’t here. Normally, Baz wasn’t here. Unless he was spying or plotting, Baz hated to be in their room. He said it smelled like good intentions.
    But Baz had hardly left the room in the last two weeks. Simon hadn’t seen him in the caf or at football, he’d seemed drawn and distracted in class, and his school shirts—usually pressed and bright white—were looking as manky as Simon’s.
    “Because he’s a vampire, Simon!” Levi interjected.
    “In this story,” Cath said, “Simon doesn’t know that yet.”
    “He’s a vampire!” Levi shouted at her laptop. “And he’s hunting you! He stays up all night, watching you sleep, trying to decide whether to eat you whole or one chunk at a time.”
    “Simon can’t hear you,” Cath said.
    Levi sat back, hugging the pillow again. “They are kind of gay, aren’t they? What with all the watching each other sleep … and the ignoring Penelope.”
    “They’re obsessed with each other,” Cath said, as if this were one of life’s absolute givens. “Simon spends the entire fifth book following Baz around and describing his eyes. It’s like a thesaurus entry for ‘gray.’”
    “I don’t know,” Levi said. “It’s hard for me to get my head around. It’s like hearing that Harry Potter is gay. Or Encyclopedia Brown.”
    That made Cath laugh out loud. “Big Encyclopedia Brown fan?”
    “Shut up. My dad used to read them to me.” He closed his eyes again. “Okay. Go on.”
    “Is … something wrong?” Simon asked, then couldn’t believe he’d asked it. It’s not like he really cared. If Baz said yes, Simon would likely say “Good!” Still, it seemed cruel not to ask. Baz may have been the most despicable human being Simon had ever met … but he was still a human being.
    “I’m not the one pacing the room like a hyperactive madman,” Baz mumbled, his elbows on his desk, his head resting in his hands.
    “You seem … down or something.”
    “Yes, I’m down. I’m down, Snow.” Baz raised his head and spun his chair toward Simon. He really did look terrible. His eyes were sunken and shot with blood. “I’ve spent the last six years living with the most self-centered, insufferable prat ever to carry a wand. And now, instead of celebrating Christmas Eve with my beloved family, drinking mulled cider and eating toasted cheese—instead of warming my hands at my ancestral hearth … I’m playing a tortured extra in the bloody Simon Snow Show. ”
    Simon stared at him. “It’s Christmas Eve?”
    “Yes…,” Baz groaned.
    Simon walked around his bed glumly. He hadn’t realized it was Christmas Eve. He’d have thought that Agatha would have called him. Or Penelope …
    Levi sighed. “Penelope.”
    Cath read on.
    Maybe his friends were waiting for Simon to call them. He hadn’t even bought them gifts. Lately, nothing had seemed as important as finding the white hares. Simon clenched his square jaw. Nothing was as important; the whole school was in danger. There must be some pattern he wasn’t seeing. He quickened his step. The stone in the tower, the stained glass window, the sigil, the Mage’s book …
    “I give up,” Baz whined. “I’m going to go drown myself in the moat. Tell my mother I always knew she loved me best.”
    Simon stopped pacing at Baz’s desk. “Do you know how to get down to the moat?”
    “I’m not actually going to kill myself, Snow. Sorry to disappoint.”
    “No. It’s just … you use the punts sometimes, don’t you?”
    “Everyone does.”
    “Not me,” Simon said. “I can’t swim.”
    “ Really …,” Baz hissed with a hint of his old vigor.