Who am I kidding? I barely recognize myself these days.
Back at Skyline High School, I was confident and knew my way around pretty well. I kept my head held high, exchangedsmiles with what felt like half the school, and every challenge was just another box to check off. I knew exactly who I was.
At Carolina Coast University, I feel like a stranger in my own skin. A fish out of water, stumbling through unfamiliar faces and crowded pavilions. The confidence I once had vanished somewhere between high school graduation and move-in day.
I’d talked to my mom about it a couple of times, hoping she’d have some kind of treasure map to guide me back to feeling normal or at least remotely like myself again. She’d listened patiently and assured me it would get better eventually.
Vas a encontrar tu camino, hija, solo dale tiempo.
Algún día, todo esto quedará atrás, lo verás.
El tiempo lo cura todo, hija, créeme.
Maybe she’s right. But honestly, it sure as hell hasn’t felt like it.
I’m struggling with the adjustment to being four or even five hours away from home. Growing up, I was always surrounded by family. There was never a day when my house wasn’t filled with so much excitement and liveliness. We always had Sunday dinners after church; mytíaswould come over to help my mom maketamalesfor the next birthday party, or my cousins and I would walk to the nearestfruteríaforhorchatas. Leaving my close-knit family behind in Skyline was harder than I planned for. Moving to Carolina Coast for a full-ride scholarship seemed like the right choice at the time, but I never realized how much I would miss them.
Moments like this make me question all my life choices—especially the one where I moved a thousand miles away withzero familiarity in sight. Well, except Olivia. Thank God for her, or I’d probably have lost my mind by now.
“Alli? Will you come with me?” Olivia insists.
I hesitate; my fingers strangle the straps of my bag. It’s easy to say no. Hell, it’d be the most comfortable choice. Stay home where it’s safe, and I don’t have to risk anyone seeing how awkward I really am.
But then there’s this little part of me, buried under layers of self-doubt, that whispers,Why not? Go have fun!
The thought clings to me, and for a moment, I think maybe this time Iwillgo. Maybe this time I’ll stop playing it safe.
Chapter 2
Jared
The worst part about being the new “hottie” athlete on campus? Everyone assumes you have it all figured out, like your future’s mapped out for the next ten years just because you can catch a ball.
It’s not just my teammates joking around about it or the girls who look at me like I’m a damn trophy. I get the idea that the professors think I’m taking it easy, coasting by with a smile and a helmet. Like the academic work I put in doesn’t count just because I’m not buried in textbooks all day.
I sling my backpack higher on my shoulder, weaving through the quad. A group of students pauses mid-conversation, their heads turning as I pass. I overhear a few conversations:
“That’s him.”
“He’s our new wide receiver.”
“Is he single? He’s so hot.”
It’s the same as always. I flash my usual easy smile at the people who greet me, but inside, I’m running on empty.
I duck into the campus café, Study Brew, hoping for a quiet corner where I can catch my breath from all the attention. Jesus, why did no one tell me transferring schools would draw evenmoreattention to me? I thought moving away from my old school would be my escape from unwanted attention. It was nonstop with the whispers and the occasional “accidental”bumps in hallways or parking lots. I thought I’d left that behind, but it’s starting to feel like the same game, just a different place.
I grab a matcha latte and slip into a quiet corner, checking the time. Thirty minutes until my advisor meeting—time to fix the course load I definitely overestimated. When your younger sister’s basically a genius; keeping up starts to feel like a silent competition. Thinking about her reminds me of that text she sent… the one I still haven’t answered.
I tap on my phone and pop in my AirPods. In a few seconds, she answers with the brightest smile. “Hi, Serena.”
“Hi, big bro, what’s up?” she greets me on FaceTime, walking inside her apartment. “No class today?”
“Nah, I need to meet with my advisor.”
“Something wrong?” Serena spins toward me, her face tightening with concern. “Did the girl come back?”
I shake my head and feel goosebumps forming at the thought of her. “No, she’s not here. I just need to figure out some things about my courses.”
