CORY DOCTOROW · 166
all over again now that they’d had the leak. They called it “eduterrorism.” The news had speculated endlessly about the political motivations of the leaker, wondering if it was a teacher’s protest, or a student, or a thief, or a disgruntled government contractor. “That was YOU?” “It was me,” she said. “And you told Jolu this — ” “Because I wanted him to be sure that I would keep the secret. If he knew my secret, then he’d have something he could use to put me in jail if I opened my trap. Give a little, get a little. Quid pro quo, like in Silence of the Lambs.” “And he told you.” “No,” she said. “He didn’t.” “But — ” “Then I told him how into you I was. How I was planning to totally make an idiot of myself and throw myself at you. Then he told me.” I couldn’t think of anything to say then. I looked down at my toes. She grabbed my hands and squeezed them. “I’m sorry I squeezed it out of him. It was your decision to tell me, if you were going to tell me at all. I had no business — ” “No,” I said. Now that I knew how she’d found out, I was starting to calm down. “No, it’s good you know. You.” “Me,” she said. “Li’l ol’ me.” “OK, I can live with this. But there’s one other thing.” “What?” “There’s no way to say this without sounding like a jerk, so I’ll just say it. People who date each other — or whatever it is we’re doing now — they split up. When they split up, they get angry at each other. Sometimes even hate each other. It’s really cold to think about that happening between us, but you know, we’ve got to think about it.” “I solemnly promise that there is nothing you could ever do to me that would cause me to betray your secret. Nothing. Screw a dozen cheerleaders in my bed while my mother watches. Make me listen to Britney Spears. Rip off my laptop, smash it with hammers and soak it in sea-water. I promise. Nothing. Ever.” I whooshed out some air. “Um,” I said. “Now would be a good time to kiss me,” she said, and turned her face up.