I’m about to protest until I realize we’ve arrived at the dormitory. Dad holds the door for us as Caleb shoves me inside.
A tingle of excitement goes through me as I enter the building where I’ll be living for the next four years, and at this moment it hits me that it’s actually happening. I’m really here, in this long sandstone building with bright walls and dark, scuffed floorboards. There are four floors but no elevator. The dining room is on the first floor, and all the other floors have their own common rooms and bedrooms.
My room is on the top floor, the second-to-last toward the end of the hall. When I reach the door and take the key out of my pocket, I catch a glimpse of the adjoining common room.
I have to smile. And then my smile gets wider as I walk intomyroom. The dark wooden floor contrasts strongly with the white walls decorated with plaster moldings. A small entrance area, just big enough for a wardrobe, leads into a spacious room with high windows and a broad window seat. The bed is smaller than the one I have at home, as is the wardrobe, but I still have more space than I expected. There’s a desk and a chair, and another door right next to the room leads to my bathroom. It’s tiny, but I have a shower, a sink, and a toilet for myself. Thanks to the white walls and high windows, the room looks bright and friendly despite the dark parquet floor. Although it’s practically empty aside from the few pieces of furniture, it’s very charming.
“Your room is definitely nicer than the ones we have at Harvard.” Caleb drops the suitcase noisily, and I have to laugh.
“You don’t even live on campus.”
Caleb’s been at Harvard for a year, but he only went into the dormitory once before he decided that the alternative was much nicer. He lives with his best friends in a penthouse apartment in the West End. No dorm room in the world can compete with that.
“Well, I’ve seen the dorms. And this one is much nicer.”
“It’s true, it is,” I say, happy to agree with him.
“Do you need help unpacking?” Mom asks, but I shake my head.
“Thanks, but I can manage alone.”
“You just don’t want anyone to mess up your perfect organization,” Caleb says, teasing.
“So what?” I say, wrinkling my nose in annoyance.
I like my sense of order. It’s the only thing I got from Dad. Mom and Caleb tend to be chaotic, and I don’t have the slightest idea how they ever find anything they’re looking for. For me, every little thing has its fixed place. That’s why I have to unpack my bags myself.
“Then it looks like it’s time to say goodbye,” Dad says and gives me a big hug. “Have fun, dear.”
“Thanks, Dad,” I whisper. I suddenly have a big lump in my throat.Oh God, don’t cry, not now.If I start crying, Mom will never leave.
“Call me if you need me. Or if you don’t. You can always call me.” Mom hugs me and kisses my forehead. Her eyes are glittering with tears again. She clears her throat and strokes my hair. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Go get ’em.” Caleb wraps both arms around me from behind and lifts me up so my feet leave the floor.
“This is about ballet, not football,” I remind him, kicking his shins with my heels until he puts me down. Caleb always used to carry me around like a doll until I was old enough to defend myself.
“It doesn’t matter. Go get ’em anyway. And never forget how good you are. And how strong.” He puts me down, turns me toward him, and holds up his little finger to me. He looks serious, and I know exactly what he’s thinking about.
I feel completely calm inside, and for a moment I can only hear the rushing of blood in my ears. I catch his little finger with mine and nod. “I promise.”
Before
Zoe
One year earlier
June25, 6:32 AM
I sneak down the stairs as quietly as I can, past the kitchen, through the living room, to the back door. I hear Dad singing out of tune along with some song from the eighties and hope he hasn’t noticed me. He hasn’t noticed me much in the last few months.
Since Jase and I started to leave notes for each other in my treehouse, I sneak out of the house every morning to check if there’s a new secret waiting for me.
My family knows nothing about it. Not even Caleb.Especiallynot him. I’ve considered telling him about it more than once; after all, Jase is his best friend. But probably for that exact reason, I couldn’t get the words out.
Jase is his best friend. And I’ve fallen in love with him. Not head over heels, but slowly and gradually. I’m in love with him and his secrets. His vulnerability. His openness.
He showed me a side of himself that he usually hides from everyone. I know that because I’ve known him for years. And the Jase he pretends to be is not the same person who confides his secrets to me.
