around my height and was, in fact, British. He looked like a less-cute Dev Patel—though in fairness, that is a very high bar to clear—and seemed very nervous about something. “Were you followed? Did you see anyone in the hall?”
“I… don’t think so.”
“It’s safe!” he yelled out behind him. “You can come out!”
“Is Mateo here?” I asked as one of the doors opened and two people emerged—a petite girl wearing a flowing black dress, and my stepbrother.
He smiled when he saw me, though he looked confused. Mateo didn’t really look like Mallory—though when all three of the siblings stood together, you could see a family resemblance, the same nose and smiles repeated. Mateo had dark, straight hair that he kept short, tan skin, and brown eyes. He was probably around Kat’s height, but broader—I’d heard him complain once that his friends were always asking him to help them move. But I didn’t think it was just about the fact that he looked like he was in good shape. There was just something about him that seemed steady, like the kind of person you’d trust with your couch or refrigerator.
He was by far the most stylish person in the room. Not that there was much competition—in addition to the girl wearing the dress, the British guy was wearing a knitted sweater and plaid pajama bottoms. But Mateo was wearing a gray Dodgers hooded sweatshirt, with a fitted jean jacket over that and the hood hung over the collar. He had olive-colored pants that were just a little bit cropped, brown boots that laced up, and a black beanie. It shouldn’t have worked, but it absolutely did.
“Hey, Stephanie,” he said. “What’s—”
Whatever he was going to say was drowned out by the girl, who shrieked. “A puppy!” she said, running straight up to Brad. “Who’s my woofer? Who’s a pupster?”
“That’s Brad,” Mateo said, coming closer.
“Brad!” This seemed to send the girl into paroxysms of joy. “That is the best name for a dog ever. May I hold him?” She didn’t give me a chance to answer, just scooped him up and headed over to the couch with him. Brad did not seem to mind this in the slightest, and I could see he was already doing his paw-waving trick for her.
“That’s Alyssa,” Mateo said, looking over at the couch. “She, um… likes animals.”
“Welcome to the Brandenburg Suite,” the guy who’d opened the door for me said, gesturing around grandly. “Sorry about the delay. We thought you were the Raptor.”
I took a breath to ask who that was—and if it meant raptor in terms of the bird, the mascot for Canadian basketball players, or the dinosaur that could open doors—but Mateo was already crossing over to me. “Archie, please stop calling our suite that. It’s not going to catch on.”
The British guy—Archie—shook his head. “It just hasn’t been given a chance yet.”
“Nobody even gets the joke!”
I raised my hand, then realized what I was doing and quickly put it down again. “I did.”
Archie pointed at me in triumph. “See!” Then he frowned. “Wait a minute, who are you?”
“That’s Stephanie,” Mateo said. “My stepsister.” We looked at each other for a moment, and it seemed like he was, like me, trying to figure out what we did in this situation. I didn’t hug any of my stepsiblings—Mallory kissed everyone on two cheeks, but she’d apparently been doing that since she was little, even when they were growing up on Kauai, where people really didn’t stand on ceremony. The rest of us, in the handful of interactions I’d had with them, had just kind of waved or nodded at each other across various restaurant tables. But somehow, in his dorm room, it felt like it would be really bad to shake Mateo’s hand—adding a level of formality that would just be depressing, like we’d be highlighting the fact that we barely knew each other. Finally, just as the moment was starting to turn awkward, he gave me a double pat on my shoulder. “Hi,” he said, taking a step back, seeming as relieved as I was now that we’d gotten that out of the way. “Um—what are you doing here? Didn’t you get my text?”
It was like my stomach plunged into my shoes. “No,” I said. I felt beyond foolish and very much wished that I could somehow just disappear from the Brandenburg Suite. “No, I—”
“I texted you,” Mateo said, “when I looked but realized I didn’t have Mallory’s keys after all. I was trying to