Audrey mouthed: I'm so sorry.
Felicity did not look at her.
She stood. She cleared her throat. And she began what would later be described, in Audrey's retelling, as "the most impressively vague literary analysis ever delivered in a high school classroom." It involved three separate instances of the phrase "he seems quite dominant," a detour into whether Daisy was "perhaps not as simple as she appears," a moment where Felicity appeared to briefly confuse Tom Buchanan with Jay Gatsby before self-correcting with no acknowledgment that anything had gone wrong, and a final sentence that proposed, with unexpected confidence, that Nick Carraway functioned as "the emotional mirror of the scene, which is relatable, in a way."
Professor Vance let her finish completely. Then she said, with perfect evenness: "Thank you, Miss Holloway. We'll revisit that passage on Friday."
Felicity sat down.
The last five minutes of class, Audrey kept her eyes forward. She didn't need to turn around. She could feel Felicity's stare on the back of her neck like a direct application of heat.
The second the bell rang, Felicity was standing.
"Don't run," she said, appearing at Audrey's shoulder before Audrey had even fully stood up. "Do not run. If you run, I will follow you and I will be significantly angrier by the time I catch you."
"I was going to apologize-"
"You were going to run and apologize simultaneously while hoping speed reduced the impact." Felicity grabbed her arm and steered her into the hallway. "You were dreaming again."
"I wasn't-"
"You had the face, Audrey. That face. The one where your eyes go soft and you're basically somewhere else entirely. I've been watching that face for three years and I know exactly what it means." She released Audrey's arm. "Him?"
Audrey didn't answer immediately. They walked. The hallway was loud and crowded, lockers slamming on both sides, and she used the noise as an excuse to take a second.
"We were just talking," she said finally.
"You were talking." Felicity's voice went flat. "You failed to write a single word of notes for forty-three minutes - I did count - because you were having a conversation with someone in your head."
"It wasn't-" Audrey stopped. "We were sitting together. He had his arm around me. We were just - sitting there, talking. And it felt completely real. More real than this hallway feels right now, actually."
Felicity looked at her sideways. "What were you talking about?"
"I was asking him who he was."
"And?"
Audrey hesitated. "He said he's the one I dream about. He said he only exists in the dream." She pressed her notebook against her chest. "I know how that sounds."
"It sounds like a Hallmark movie that got too philosophical." Felicity stopped at her locker, spun the combination. "Have you ever seen his face?"