21. Claire
21
CLAIRE
I t’s a short walk from the building housing the library to the dorm—less than fifteen minutes—and I choose to spend it stuffing my face with one hand, and catching up with the world on the others.
As expected, I received several texts, and more than a few missed calls. Eating my croissant with one hand, I type an answer with the other, and copy-paste it on my chat with Noah and grandma.
Me: Sorry, I lost my charger! I’ll call tonight.
The little white lie won’t hurt anyone.
To my grandmother, I add a line.
Me: I’m so glad to hear about the anonymous donor. Amazing. I’ll see if I can come back for the operation.
I don’t find anything else to say to Noah.
I can’t really afford another trip back home so soon after coming here, but the more I think about it, the more it seems logical. I need to chat with Noah, face to face. After this weekend, I know it’s a necessity. And if my grandmother’s getting surgery on a Friday, it makes sense to go, then stay with her for a couple of days. If Keller’s sister wants me to start babysitting right away, and I manage to find some cheap tickets, maybe I can afford it.
I then move on to the more intriguing text, from an unknown number I rename as Lisa.
Lisa: Hi, Claire. We haven’t met, but I’m Lisa, Keller’s sister and Octavia’s mom. Vivi is officially smitten with you, and I happen to be looking for a babysitter. I understand you study at Rothford. Naturally, I’ll take your schedule into consideration. If you’re interested, please message me, and we can meet up at the house to chat about the details.
Me: Hi, Lisa! Thank you so much for considering me. I have a little experience as a babysitter, and would be thrilled to take care of Vivi. She’s the cutest. I received my schedule today; most of my classes are between nine and three. I’d love to meet up, let me know when.
I’m already back at the dorm, my delicious croissant obliterated. I scan my card to get in, and frown when the door buzzes instead of sliding open. I scan it a second time, still frowning.
I see the security guy at the front desk start to walk towards me, and smile. The dorms are a lot fancier than what I would have expected of a student housing building, but Rothford is definitely that kind of school.
He opens the door and stands in the middle, blocking the entrance. “Ms. Fairmont?”
I frown. “That’s me.”
“Your dorm key has been cancelled. You will need to speak to the administration.”
“Oh.” It makes sense, when I think about it. “I had an enrollment issue, but it’s all been fixed this morning.”
“Great. Speak to the front desk at Rose Hall. They’ll be able to reissue your dorm card,” he tells me.
Sighing, I head back towards the other side of the road. Well, it’s a good thing classes start tomorrow. I suppose today’s meant to be all about figuring out the admin side of things.
I can’t lie: being back in this building isn’t fun. Even this morning, when I came to grab my schedule, I was a little stressed out, but now, the quieter atmosphere brings back all my fear and desperation from yesterday. I swallow it down.
There are a few students waiting ahead of me, asking for random things, from lunch schedule to swimming club information. When it’s my turn, I smile at the welcoming receptionist—not the same one I saw yesterday, thank fuck.
“Hi. My enrollment got a bit messed up over the weekend, and reinstated this morning. My dorm card’s not working though.” I place it on the counter, between the two of us.
The pretty brunette adjusts her glasses and smile. “Let me look for you.”
She takes my card, scans it, and starts typing away, then scrolling, and scrolling, and reading.
“Oh, I see.”
It’s taking long, long seconds—or minutes—that don’t help me feel any better. Isn’t it supposed to be an easy fix? Shouldn’t she tell me it’s going to be sorted in a second?
But she says nothing. She types and reads and scroll, for what seems like forever. Then, she leans in, pressing on a button. “Steph, would you mind coming to the front desk? I’m handling something.”
Why am I something to handle? Why does she need help?
A glance behind me shows me there’s a bit of a queue now, all of them listening in, just like I listened to the students getting helped before me.
A perky blonde—the one who handed me my schedule—arrives shortly, and my receptionist stands. “Would you mind stepping in the office for a minute?”
I follow her in silence, my hands tightening on the hem of my shirt.
Part of me is grateful she’s considerate of my privacy, but the other part wonders why it’s needed. What’s wrong?
We enter a lit-up space with a large desk, but she doesn’t make her way to it. Wasting no time in enlightening me, the woman tells me, “Ms. Fairmont, did you read your renewed agreement this morning?”
I blink. “Kinda? I mean, yes; it said my enrollment and scholarships were reinstated. I didn’t…” I flush. “…read every word, this time. I assumed it said the same thing as my first lot of paperwork.”
“Ah, well, not quite.” She moves to the chairs in front of the desk, tapping one before sitting on the one next to it.
I follow, taking the designated seat.
“It’s fairly similar, but, erm—well, while your housing grant is intact, the board does not seem to feel like you’re a good fit for the student dorms here. You see, the specific circumstances of this weekend’s expulsion were about student privacy. And while it’s my understanding that the school council has vouched for you, the board is still concerned about the privacy of its students in their own living spaces.”
I stare at her, speechless.
“In other words, the school will pay you the equivalent of the dorm fees, but you will need to find alternative accommodations.”
Fuck .
My heart sinks. I should have known it was too good to be true.
I liked the dorms. I had the best roommate. We already got along, she introduced me to her friends, and took me under her wing.
I shake myself.
Okay, okay. It’s not that bad, right? They’re still giving me money for a place; just not at the dorms.
“Right. Erm—how does it work, exactly?”
She tells me how to request the housing stipend, and pats my hands.
It’s not that bad. It could be worse.
* * *
“I ’m fucked,” I say categorically.
I am back at the dorm, but as Lily’s guest, packing my bags with tears in my eyes.
I spent most of the day and some of the afternoon scouring the internet for rentals in Thorn Falls.
Campus aside, the town is divided in three: the riverside, on a hill; the west side, which is much cheaper, but also a lot farther; and southie.
Let’s put it this way: if I save the dorm stipend for ten years, maybe I can afford one month of rent on the hill.
West side, I could possibly afford a shoe box, but it’s an hour and a half walk—or endless bus trips with two changes of buses to get to campus.
Southie seems to be the better bet, out of the three, but it’s still incredibly expensive, and farther than I’d like. Regardless, it’s obvious that the dorm is designed to be affordable to the less fortunate students of Rothford—the monthly stay is only three hundred dollars for a shared two-bedroom—and I’ll need to supplement that allowance with more than a thousand per month if I want to live in town.
I can’t do it. Not with babysitting money. I’d need another job on top of that, and if I take one, when will I have time to study? My scholarship is merit-based. They made it perfectly clear it’s only valid so long as I pass my classes, and I know better than to think they were kidding about any part of the fine print.
I’m screwed.
“Maybe you could find a roommate in southie?” Lily offers.
“I looked.” In fact, I only looked at shared accommodations, because an apartment for myself is way beyond my means. “It’s still a lot of money. And from what I’ve read, southie isn’t super safe at night, either.”
Lily’s grimace tells me everything I need to know.
I am thoroughly fucked.
She fidgets. “Maybe…”
But Lily leaves it at that, changing her mind.
My heart stops in my chest, guessing what she almost said.
Maybe I should call Keller.
Ask him for help.
Everything that’s happened to me over the last two days, good and bad, can be traced back to him. He has an insane degree of control in this school. Maybe he could change the board’s mind.
He’ll have a price for that. I may not have known him for long, but I already understand that everything he does comes with a cost. But so far, I’ve been able to pay my dues.
“Yeah.” I remind myself to breathe in and out. “I don’t have his number. I’ll walk to the vesper tower, in case he’s home.”
Besides, something tells me this isn’t going to get resolved remotely. He’ll want a piece of me in return.