It reminded me that starting over did not mean erasing everything.
We went straight from Cabo to California.
No dramatic return to Santa Fe. No long goodbye at the ranch. No walking back into the place where everyone knew too much and still somehow understood too little. Regan called it a clean transition. Edge called it necessary. Tarak called it smart. I called it being dropped into a life I had dreamed about before I knew dreams could come with paperwork, security deposits, student IDs, and a meal plan that charged fourteen dollars for a salad.
Pepperdine sat above the ocean like someone had built a campus out of sunlight, money, and impossible views.
At first, I hated how beautiful it was.
Beauty made me suspicious.
The ocean was too blue. The grass too green. The students too polished. Everyone seemed to own matching luggage and emotional stability. Girls wore oversized sweatshirts with perfect messy buns and carried iced drinks like accessories. Boys looked like they had been grown in labs specializing in khaki shorts, clean sneakers, and family trust funds.
I started in a dorm because Regan insisted I needed the college experience.
Edge insisted the dorm had terrible security.
Tarak said he could fix that by scaring the entire residential life department into better locks.
Somehow, between Regan’s charm, Edge’s silent menace, Tarak’s ability to make administrators rethink their life choices, and JD’s talent for making phone calls that changed reality, I ended up in a room with an ocean view, a reinforced lock, and aroommate assignment that changed my life in a way no one had planned.
Lily McCallister from rural Idaho arrived with three suitcases, a rolling laundry hamper, thick glasses, and the wide-eyed terror of a girl who had never seen the Pacific Ocean in person.
She also had a reusable tote bag full of homemade potato rolls because apparently her grandmother had panicked at the idea of her going to California hungry.
“The most exciting thing that happens in my town,” Lily told me within the first hour, “is the annual fair, the tractor pull, and the best potato bake contest. One year, Mrs. Henderson used smoked gouda and the church ladies still talk about it like she committed arson.”
I stared at her.
Then I laughed.
Not politely.
Actually laughed.
Lily blinked behind her thick glasses, then smiled like she had just won something.
That was when Regan walked in carrying a box of towels.
Lily saw her and froze.
Her eyes went huge behind her lenses.
“Oh my gosh,” Lily whispered. “Are you famous?”
Regan stopped. “Excuse me?”
“You look like someone from a soap opera,” Lily said, completely serious. “Or one of those movies where everyone is rich and someone gets pushed down stairs.”
I choked.
Regan’s mouth twitched. “That is oddly specific.”
“I watched a lot of daytime television with my grandma,” Lily said. “You have cheekbones for betrayal.”
I lost it.
I laughed so hard I had to sit on the bed.
