Page 12 of Bluebell Tides

And for this first night, at least, Sophie was allowed to fall into the nourishing embrace of the Harper sisters—a family who’d once been torn apart, a family who’d fought tooth and nail to come together again, in empathy, conversation, and good humor. Sometimes Sophie felt the darkness of the previous few weeks creeping up on her, threatening to yank the smile from her face. But usually, she could distract herself with a conversation with Juliet, or a big fluff of cotton candy, or simply peeping at the beautiful view of the Atlantic just beyond the carnival. It was inky black and spectacular. It seemed to go on and on.

7

September 2002

Ruth didn’t plan to call her family to explain the Yale situation until three days after she’d moved into the dorms. Picking up the phone in the hallway with a trembling hand, she tried to rehearse what she might say to her mother if and when she picked up. But just as soon as she raised the quarter, just as soon as she prepared to slide it into the slot and make the call, three other freshman girls stormed down the hallway, calling Ruth’s name and demanding that she come with them to a party. They looked at her as though she were like them, as though she’d been raised in similar situations, as though she knew what the inside of a country club looked like. She pocketed the quarter and ran away with them.

Ruth’s ability to slip into the Yale world without notice was all because of Quentin, of course. She’d spent all summer watching him, learning what kinds of things Quentin’s people talked about and how they dressed. After coming to New Haven, she’d met up with Quentin for lunch and thanked him formally for his help getting into the university. He’d told her point-blank that she needed to buy new and different clothes, so she’d taken her earnings from the restaurant and gone on a shopping spree, buying a specific number of dresses, pants, sweaters, and blouses—enough for a kind of capsule wardrobe that she hoped would suggest she came from wealth. She had to be strategic and make sure not to repeat outfits too often.

Now, walking down the road with Kelly, Reese, and Dina, Ruth wore a miniskirt and a sweater that wasn’t dissimilar to the sweaters worn by the other girls. Dina was guiding them to a fraternity party she’d been invited to, explaining, “Steve told me to bring all the girls in the dorm! But I only wanted to invite you three.”

The fraternity house reminded Ruth of castles she’d seen in old photographs of England and France, although she never would have said so aloud. Already, music pumped from both the back garden and the inner rooms. When they entered, they were handed cups filled with alcoholic juice, and Ruth wanted to laugh. This was just as trashy as any party back in Virginia, but she knew not to tell them that. Their opinion of themselves had to remain high. Whoever crashed it in would have to pay for it.

To her surprise, Quentin walked in a few minutes later. She hadn’t seen him since their formal lunch, as she’d wanted to make it clear that she didn’t expect their little summer romance to continue. She assumed that he had a Yale girlfriend and a Yale life that had nothing to do with her, and that he’d gotten her the position at Yale simply because he had a soft spot for her. Nothing more.

But the way he looked at her across the fraternity garden told her that she might have been wrong about that. Dina pegged it immediately.

“Why is Quentin Caldweck looking at you like he wants to eat you?” Dina whispered.

Ruth took a sip of her terrible alcoholic juice. “I sort of know him,” she said.

Dina’s eyes widened. “Did you grow up together?”

“No, nothing like that,” Ruth said, but she wasn’t willing to give a better response.

Quentin was already making his way over to her. After spending nearly every day in the Nantucket sunshine, he was tan in the way of Greek gods. Somehow in the blur of learning everything else about Yale, Ruth had nearly forgotten how handsome he was. She told herself to play it cool, but she could already feel how much she loved him, beaming from her eyes.

“You know him! Like, you really know him!” Dina hissed. It was almost an accusation.

But already, Quentin was there, beer in hand. “Hi,” he said.

“Hi there.” Ruth shifted her weight. “This is Dina. And over there, that’s Kelly and Reese. They live in my dorm.”

“Nice to meet you,” Quentin said.

“And you,” Dina offered back.

Quentin leaned closer to Ruth, and he smelled like their gorgeous Nantucket nights. “Do you have a second to talk?”

“I guess so.” Ruth swallowed the lump in her throat and followed him deep into the garden, where they stood beneath an ancient oak branch and gazed at one another. Little fairy lights illuminated their faces. Ruth bit her tongue to keep from thanking him again and again for helping her get here. At some point, she knew, she had to remember that she’d also gotten herself here. She’d written the essay. She had the brains.

“You look incredible,” Quentin said gently.

“New clothes.” Ruth shrugged.

“That’s not all,” Quentin said. “I knew you were better than any girl I’d ever met at Yale.”

“And now I’m here at Yale,” Ruth said, a little bit of sarcasm in her voice. “Does that make me worse?”

“No. Not in the slightest,” Quentin said. “How are you finding it?”

“I feel like a stranger in a strange land,” Ruth said.

Quentin laughed. “You never answer any question in a normal way.”

“What is the normal way?”

Quentin sipped his beer and tilted his head. “My friends think I’m crazy.”