her heading in the direction of one of the other buildings. Careful not to cross paths with loquacious sorority girls this time, I walk to the upper level and pass the whiteboards and closed doors, heading toward my window.
Where I find her.
She’s sitting in the exact spot under the window I had marked for my own solitary reading plans. Her head is tipped back against the wall, eyes closed.
“There you are,” I say unthinkingly, not meaning to say anything at all.
Her eyes fly open and fix on me. Immediately, I read the sadness in them. The emotion doesn’t render her features any softer, only shadowing the usual sharpness of her expression. She blinks, and the despondency vanishes.
“There I am?” she asks. Her tone is edged with accusation, and if I’m lucky, perhaps a little amusement. “Were you looking for me, Fitzgerald?” She gets to her feet, leveling me an imperious eyebrow.
Hardly anyone calls me Fitzgerald, but I don’t bother correcting her. My name somehow doesn’t sound awkward on her lips. “Um, no,” I stammer. She’s wearing a light pink sweater tonight, the color of a blush. “How could I be looking for you? I had no idea you were at this party. I wasn’t even sure you were at Brown.”
It’s the wrong thing to say. Her eyebrows flatten over narrowed eyes. “You followed me here?”
“Juniper, how could I have guessed you’d be at the random party my brother dragged me to? I only saw you from the window earlier.” I’m eager to dispel her suspicion, to ask her why she was sitting up here alone, whether she likes Brown—anything. Everything.
She shakes her head. “No. Not this party. Brown. Yesterday you heard Matt mention we were going to Providence. Did you follow me here?” Her voice is wary, almost nervous.
I understand why. There’s a word for following a girl you hardly know across state lines. Creepy. She’s right to be nervous. I take a step back, wanting to give her space. I will my body language to communicate, Hey, you could leave at any time, and I will in no way be weird about it.
“It’s purely a coincidence we ended up at the same school again,” I assure her evenly. “Just serendipity.”
She blinks, her unease fading beneath surprise and something else. Understanding? I’m not sure. It doesn’t last long. She juts her chin at me, dissatisfied. “If it’s just a coincidence, why didn’t you say anything yesterday when Matt mentioned we’d be coming here?”
“I don’t even remember Matt saying that,” I lie. It’s unfortunate, but better than admitting I was too nervous in front of her boyfriend to tell her I’d be in Providence too.
“He did,” she says stonily. Her eyes flit to the side. “You and I were talking about college. Then Matt came up and mentioned dates at Mike’s, and I said, ‘When we’re not busy.’” She nods, having found what she was trying to recall. “And then Matt said, ‘I checked out of the hotel. Do you want to get dinner before we head to Providence?’” She returns her gaze to me triumphantly. “You definitely knew where we were headed.”
“Whoa,” I say, blinking. Distantly, I’m aware she’s just caught me in a lie, but I’m too impressed by her perfect recall to care.
Her cheeks turn bright pink, and I become suddenly very aware of the smooth skin of her neck. The freckles brushing her jaw. Like she’s annoyed by her blush, she doesn’t drop her eyes and instead pins me under her scrutiny. “Okay, so I have a pretty good memory,” she says. Her voice is determined, but I notice a hint of bashfulness in her tone.
“That sounds like an understatement.” I want to ask her more, but not if it’s something she’s embarrassed about.
“Did you follow me to Providence?” She crosses her arms, obviously refusing to be distracted. I don’t think I’ve ever spoken to someone so wholly single-minded.
“I didn’t follow you. I swear my itinerary had me at Brown today too,” I say quickly. “I didn’t mention it yesterday because, well, frankly—could your boyfriend be any more intimidating?” Her lips thin into an unamused line. “Besides, I wasn’t even