Chapter 7

I knew damn well he was awake. I finally found the light switch and turned it on. Ackley put his hand up so it wouldn’t hurt his eyes. “What the hell happened to you?” he meant the blood and all.
“I had a little goddam tiff with Stradlater.” I sat on the floor, they never had any chairs in their room. “Hey is it okay if I sleep in Ely’s bed tonight?” Ely went home damn near every weekend.
“I don’t know when the hell he’s coming back.” Boy, did that annoy me. I patted him on the shoulder, “You’re a prince Ackley kid, you know that?”
He kept asking me what the fight was about. He certainly was a bore about that. I finally told him it was about him. I told him Stradlater had said he has a lousy personality. That got him excited. I told him I was only kidding and went over and laid down on Ely’s bed. Boy, did I feel rotten. I felt so damn lonesome. I kept laying there thinking about Jane. It drove me starking mad thinking about her and Stradlater parked somewhere in old Ed Banky’s car. Most guys at Pencey just talked about having sexual intercourse with girls all the time - like Ackley, for instance - but old Stradlater really did it.

I got up and turned the light off for old Ackley. Then I laid down on Ely’s bed again. A couple of minutes later, he was snoring like mad. I once double-dated with Stradlater in Ed Banky’s car. Stradlater was in the back with his date and I was in the front with mine. First he would start snowing his date in this very quiet sincere voice. I damn near puked listening to him. I don’t think he gave that girl the time that night - but damn near. I got feeling so lonesome and rotten, I even felt like waking Ackley up. I asked him what the routine for joining a monastery was. He told me I have to be Catholic and was quite sore that I’d woke him up about it.

I got up off Ely’s bed and started toward the door. Walking down the corridor I decided what I’d do, I’d get the hell out on Pencey - right that same night and all. It made me too sad and lonesome. I decided I’d take a room in a hotel in New York and just take it easy till Wednesday. I sort of needed a vacation. My nerves were shot. One thing that depressed me was that I had to pack these brand-new ice skates my mother had just sent me - and here I was getting the ax again. She sent me they wrong type of skates but it still made me sad anyway.

I went and sold my typewriter to Woodruff, a guy I lent it to. He bought it for twenty bucks. When I was all set to go I took one last look down the corridor. I was sort of crying. I put my red hunting hat on and then yelled at the top of my voice, “Sleep tight ya morons!” Then I got the hell out.