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take it seriously, and when it was just a bunch of stuffy traditions that ought to be ignored.
    I stepped between the two of them. “All right, guys. It’s late, we’re all tired, we’re all a little in shock over the outcome. Let’s just table any more discussion until tomorrow, okay?”
    Josh turned and stormed off down the sidewalk toward Prescott College. George shrugged and fell into step with me. “I do think there’s something to this ‘universe’ theory of mine,” he said.
    I murmured in assent. Maybe there was. How else to explain the results? Hours of debate, and we ended up with exactly the same ratio as our class.
    “Or maybe it was just the universe’s way of telling us that D176 had it right?” George continued.
    I didn’t have the where withal to respond to that one, either. Upon seeing the marbled results, I’d immediately called the meeting to a close, and the other knights were smart enough to agree it was a good move. No one had the energy to react in any way that was either useful or wise. Demetria, in particular, looked ready to implode. We’d deal with it tomorrow.
    I looked at my watch. Two A.M. I mean, tonight.
    Josh was still storming off in front of us. I didn’t envy Lydia his foul mood. Perhaps it would have been a good idea for him to go back to his own room this evening. However, it had been quite a while since I’d seen my roommate spend the night alone, and it certainly hadn’t happened since Spring Break. I don’t know what went on over there in Spain, but whatever it was, it had brought their relationship to a whole new level.
    Josh said nothing when we met him at the Prescott gate. I wondered if he felt weird entering my suite with me only a few steps behind—as if not entering by himself was his admission that it was, in fact, still my suite. That he was a guest there, not a full-time resident.
    Though he’d certainly come in alone often enough when I was inside. Sometimes it felt like I lived inside a sitcom, where your friends felt free to walk inside your house without knocking whenever they wanted.
    George stopped at his usual entryway. “See you guys later,” he said, and as the door closed, I noticed he went not up the stairs to his room, but rather cut to the right and headed into the basement.
    Huh? These are the things in the basement:
    1) The laundry room. Chance that George was washing his whites at 2A.M .: 0%
    2) The Buttery. Hamburgers, pizza bagels, and grape sodas galore, but at this time of night, it was locked up tight.
    3) The underground passageway to all the other entryways in the building.
    I quickened my pace, took the stairs up to my entryway two at a time, yanked open the door, and sprinted down the basement passageway just in time to see George’s fabulous butt disappearing into the corridor toward the sophomore wing.
    Huh.
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    I met a quizzical Josh in front of our suite door on the first floor. “What was that all about?”
    “Nothing.” I pushed past him and into the common room. Where was George going? At night? In secret? “I thought I’d forgotten to take my clothes out of the dryer earlier.”
    “But then you remembered?” Josh asked.
    Not that I cared what George did. I’d totally moved on. He could have as many two A.M. rendezvous as he wanted with as many sophomores as he cared to. No skin off my back. I had a boyfriend and I was over him.
    “Yep.” I tripped over the laundry bag of obviously dirty Spring Break clothes I’d dragged into the common room that afternoon and then promptly ignored.
    “Uh-huh.” Josh shook his head. “Night, Bugaboo.”
    I cringed as he vanished into Lydia’s room. “Two dollars,” I hissed after him, but I doubt he heard.
    Whatever. Like it mattered what Josh thought any more than it mattered what George was doing. If he even was doing what I thought.1*Or if he was doing it with a sophomore. Could be anyone. Why should I concern myself anyway? I had Jamie, and that didn’t bother