‘Okay, son.’ He tosses up the keys to his rental and snatches them out of the air. ‘Have fun.’
You never heard someone say those words with less meaning.
Mom follows Dad out of my room in silence, head down, as he marches away. Neither of them stops to look back and I don’t know if I want them to or not. The only thing worse than the silent treatment is the sobbing and we’ve all done enough of that to last a lifetime. When the door to the dorm slams shut, I flop backwards onto my unmade bed, still struggling to process the situation. It all happened so fast. One minute, everything was perfect, school, soccer, the best friends, the best girl, everything going according to my non-existent plan. The next, it was all stolen away. No, not stolen, surrendered. I gave that life up when I got into Bre’s car the night of the party. And now I’m here, banished to the UK with no friends, no girl, not even any goddamn sheets on my goddamn bed.
But pouting on a bare mattress isn’t going to get me anywhere. I’m here now, it is what it is. When your opponent goes ahead, you don’t give up, you adapt your strategy and keep playing. No one ever won by quitting before the final whistle. I should get up, take my new credit card into town and find a store that sells sheets. I should unpack my clothes and buy groceries. I shouldshower, shave and get to bed early, ready for my first training session in the morning.
That’s what Ishoulddo.
Forcing myself to my feet, I lift an arm and give my pits a sniff. Gross. The alleged seventy-two-hour deodorant I paid a trillion dollars for at the airport has not lived up to its promises. Yanking my shirt off over my head, I hop into the tiny bathroom and rinse my underarms, banging my elbows on the wall as I dry off, using my shirt as a towel. A second sniff suggests an improvement. One quick swipe of the aforementioned overpriced deodorant, a rumpled but clean white T-shirt from my bag and I’m good to go. With the burner phone in one pocket, keys in the other, I throw open my door and stride out into the hallway, ready to find out what this place is all about and hopefully get out of my head for a while. At least long enough to forget the fact that Chris didn’t even acknowledge me when I knocked on his door to say goodbye yesterday.
This is not where I’m meant to be, this is not how my life was supposed to play out, but it’s where I’ve ended up and I might as well try to make the best of it.
3
Mia
Exactly seven minutes after I opened the door to my new room, my hands are washed, grass-stained jeans, musty shirt and beat-up sneakers switched out for my new dress and new-to-me Doc Marten boots, and I’m staring at my anxious reflection in the mirror. I’m ready to go. But for some reason, I can’t move. And it’s not just because my knee is still throbbing.
‘This is what you came for,’ I remind mirror-me, stern and determined. ‘You’re smart and capable, you deserve to be here, and you’re going to go out tonight and make friends. These people don’t know you. They have no reason to dislike you. Everything is going to be great.’
Almost halfway to kind-of convinced, I’m about to walk out the door when my phone starts to ring, an insistent chirping alert assigned to my mom’s cell.
‘Hello?’
I answer right away, immediately panicky. Something must be wrong, we just spoke an hour ago when I got off the train at Hemden. And two hours before that at Paddington station in London. And an hour before that when I landed at Heathrow.
‘Honey, it’s me,’ Mom trills. ‘Are you at school? Did you find your room?’
‘Yes, Mom.’ I squeeze my eyes shut and step away from the door, perching on the edge of my bed. ‘Everything is fine.’
‘Just fine?’
‘Great,’ I correct myself. ‘Fantastic, incredible, could not be better.’
‘Well, I’m sorry, honey,’ her voice wavers down the line. ‘Please forgive your mother for worrying about her little girl when she’s a million miles away.’
‘It’s only four thousand,’ I say softly and Mom chokes back a pained laugh.
‘Right, you’re practically around the block.’
I reach for the silver bracelet that never leaves my wrist, a sweet-sixteen gift from Grandpa Meyers, and roll the links between my fingers. ‘I’m sorry, I’m just tired, I didn’t mean to snap.’
‘Sure you are, baby,’ she coos, all calm again, like I’m the one overreacting. ‘I know you have better things to do than check in with your mom right now. You found your room, okay?’
‘I did.’
‘And you got something to eat?’
‘I will.’ I stand and watch myself gnawing on my thumbnail. ‘I was just on my way when you called. I met this girl, Alice, and her friends? They invited me to hang out. I think we’re going to get dinner.’
‘Alice? Alice who?’
‘I don’t know, I didn’t get her last name,’ I say with a smile. ‘Even if I did, I really don’t think you know her. I’m a million miles away, remember?’
‘As if I could forget,’ she sniffs. ‘Okay, you’d better let me go. You don’t want to be late, Mia, you can’t be making a badimpression on your first day. Make sure you get something green on your plate at dinner, you hear?’
‘Yes, Mom.’
