She was a horrible fake of a daughter, a liar of a friend. And what had she been thinking? These were the blandest, most red- ag-worthy emails ever written. They were only going to freak people out.
Her stomach growled. A second time, more loudly. Shelby cleared her throat.
Luce spun around in her chair to face the girl, only to nd her in downward dog. Luce could feel the tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. Luce spun around in her chair to face the girl, only to nd her in downward dog. Luce could feel the tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. "I'm hungry, okay? Why don't you le a complaint, get me transferred to another room?"
Shelby calmly hopped forward on her yoga mat, swooped her arms into a prayer position and said, "I was just going to tell you about the box of organic mac and cheese in my sock drawer. No need for the waterworks. Jeez."
Eleven minutes later, Luce was sitting under a blanket on her bed with a steaming bowl of cheesy pasta, dry eyes, and a roommate who'd suddenly stopped hating her.
"I wasn't crying because I was hungry," Luce wanted to clarify, though the mac and cheese was so good, the gift so unexpectedly kind of Shelby, it almost brought fresh tears to her eyes. Luce wanted to open up to someone, and Shelby was, well, there. She hadn't thawed out all the way, but sharing her stash of food was a huge step for someone who'd barely spoken to Luce so far. "I, um, I'm having some family issues. It's just hard being away."
"Boo-hoo," Shelby said, chomping on her own bowl of macaroni. "Let me guess, your parents are still happily married."
"That's not fair," Luce said, sitting up. "You have no idea what I've been through."
"And you have some idea what I've been through?" Shelby stared Luce down. "Didn't think so. Look, here's me: Only child raised by a single mom. Daddy issues? Maybe. A pain in the ass to live with because I hate to share? Almost certainly. But what I can't stand is some sweet-faced, spoon-fed sweetheart with a happy home life and some fancy boyfriend showing up on my turf to moan about her poor long-distance love a air."
Luce sucked in her breath. "That's not it at all."
"Oh no? Enlighten me."
"I'm a fake," Luce said. "I'm ... lying to the people I love."
"Lying to your fancy boyfriend?" Shelby's eyes narrowed, in a way that made Luce think her roommate might actually be interested.
"No," Luce muttered. "I'm not even speaking to him."
Shelby leaned back on Luce's bed and propped her feet up so they rested on the underside of the top bunk. "Why not?"
"It's long, stupid, and complicated."
"Well, every girl with half a brain knows there's only one thing to do when you break up with your man--"
"No, we didn't break up--" Luce said, at the exact same time as Shelby said:
"Change your hair."
"Change my hair?"
"Fresh start," Shelby said. "I've dyed mine orange, chopped it o . Hell, once I even shaved it after this jerk really broke my heart."
There was a small oval mirror with an ornate wooden frame attached to the dresser across the room. From her position on the bed, Luce could see her re ection. She put down the bowl of pasta and stood up to move closer.
She had chopped her hair o after Trevor, but that was di erent. Most of it had been singed, anyway. And when she'd arrived at Sword & Cross, it had been Arriane's hair she cut. Yet Luce thought she understood what Shelby meant when she said "fresh start." You could turn into someone else, pretend you weren't the person who'd just been through so much heartache. Even though--thank God--Luce wasn't mourning the permanent loss of her relationship with Daniel, she was mourning all sorts of other losses. Penn, her family, the life she used to have before things got so complicated.
"You're really thinking about it, aren't you? Don't make me bust out the peroxide from under the sink."
Luce ran her ngers through her short black hair. What would Daniel think? But if he wanted her to be happy here until they could be together again, she had to let go of who she'd been at Sword & Cross.
She turned around to face Shelby. "Get the bottle."
Chapter Four
FIFTEEN DAYS
She wasn't that blond.
Luce wet her hands in the sink and tugged her short bleached waves. She'd made it through