I spent driving here from Texas.
Sighing, I lock the screen and repocket the device.
For a moment, I sit here in total silence, letting the calm of the room wash over me. I’m sure it makes me foolish to put so much hope in this place being the turning point for me, but it’s like the old saying goes, if not now, when?
If things don’t get better—if I don’t get better—I’m not sure what I’ll do. I’m hoping, since I’ve already experienced rock bottom, that up is my only option.
Then again, I know better than most just how unfair life can be. Sometimes, it seems like the universe actually takes joy in kicking people while they’re down.
I know it did for me.
The sound of the door unlatching snaps me out of my pity party. Instantly, I’m on high alert, my breaths sawing in and out of my lungs and my heart ricocheting around in my chest like a wayward bullet.
Please be nice. Please be nice. Please, please, please.
“You must be Emmalyn.”
I force my eyes open and look toward the voice. My suitemate is striking, with long sandy hair, pale blue eyes, and bronzed skin.
“Um, Em-Emmy is fine.”
“Nice to meet you, Emmy.” Her eyes crinkle as she smiles. “I’m Stella.”
“It’s nice to meet you, too,” I croak, feeling more self-conscious than ever. You only get one chance to make a good first impression and knowing my luck, this girl is going to think I’m a capital ‘L’ loser.
She studies me for a moment, squinting as she takes the time to really look at me.
My closet back home is filled with designer labels, but I didn’t bring any of it when I left. These days, my clothes are more for comfort than style. And while we’re not dressed dissimilarly, I still feel out of place under her scrutinizing gaze.
Finally, she nods. “Sweet.” She eyes the two bags on the floor. “Do you need help bringing the rest of your stuff up?”
I swallow roughly. “Um, no. I... this is pretty much it.”
Silence descends with me sitting awkwardly on the bed while she stands in the doorway. Oddly enough, it’s a comfortable silence—the kind you’d expect to exist between lifelong friends, not virtual strangers.
“Well, what are you doing then?” she asks, intentionally not commenting on my lack of worldly possessions.
“The tech center. I need to, uh, go there and get my student ID card.”
Her glossy peach lips tip up. “Perfect. Me, too. Let’s go!” Before I can refuse, Stella crosses the small space, wraps her fingers around my wrist, and hauls me up from the bed. “C’mon, we can grab a bite to eat after.”
After spending so much time ostracized and the butt of everyone’s jokes, having someone actually want to spend time with me feels foreign. However, I’m so tired of being alone, and if Stella wants to be friendly toward me, I’m certainly not going to stop her.
Here’s to hoping it doesn’t blow up in my face.
I manage to grab my messenger bag from the floor as Stella drags me out of my room. “So, where are you from?” she asks.
“Texas.”
Stella lets out a low whistle as we step into the hallway. “Long way from home. Won’t you miss your family?”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to say no, but such an honest reply will only invite questions I have no intention, much less desire, to answer. “I’ll manage,” I say instead.
“You’re stronger than me. I’ve lived here in Central Valley for my entire life. My parents literally live like five minutes away.”
“Then why are you living on campus?” I ask before I can think better of it. Great. Now she probably thinks I’m rude.
Instead of snapping at me, she laughs and shrugs before punching the button to summon the elevator. “Wanted the full college experience. These are supposed to be the best years of our lives, right?”
“That’s what they say.” I step into the elevator behind her, wishing like hell I wasn’t so rusty in social situations.
Stella grins and hits the button for the ground floor. “I think I’m gonna like you, roomie. I really do.”
Much to my surprise, I find myself grinning right back at her. With Stella at my side, maybe Central Valley really will be my fresh start after all.
Chapter Three
Emmy
“Oh my God.” Stella cackles. “At least you’re smiling in your picture. I look like I’m constipated!”
She waves her freshly printed badge in my face to prove her point.
I try to hold in my laughter, but it is