CHAPTER SEVEN

BIANCA

“So, Mom, I have a question.”

She shifts in the driver’s seat, simultaneously fixing the rearview mirror. The back seats are filled with our weekend luggage and Josh. He’s got his arms crossed and a hat covering his face, resting. I turn toward her, and Mom looks at me for a bit before returning her eyes to the road.

“Yes?”

“Hypothetically, if Ana reappeared in your life—or if she found your new number and called you—what would your reaction be?”

A rustle sounds behind us, but I think nothing of it. Her head snaps in my direction. “Well, I’d be surprised, but I wouldn’t mind talking to her again. Our relationship did end rather awkwardly considering it petered out due to you and . . .” She doesn’t finish, and I don’t rush to correct her.

Another rustle, and I look back, but just see Josh in a different position.

“So, what would your reaction be if I told you that I saw a fuchsia-colored Jeep in our neighborhood? Hypothetically, of course,” I add the last bit, but it seems she’s starting to realize that I’m not speaking in hypotheticals.

“I would be surprised, but you saw Ana’s car? Where?” she asks, and I admire how quick she is to believe me.

“When we moved in, the house across the street had it in their driveway. I’ve been racking my brain. Ana and William already have a house,” I say, and she nods. Her lips twist from side to side as they normally do when she’s thinking. “But I haven’t seen it since.”

She sighs, laying her head slightly on her fist as she keeps the steering wheel steady with her right hand. “Why haven’t you said anything?”

I shrug. “Like I said, I haven’t seen it since the first day.”

Her head then snaps a bit in my direction before she widens her eyes in realization. “Wait. If they were living over there, that could mean . . .”

I nod and say the sentence that’s been secretly killing me inside. “There’s a possibility that Liam does too.”

Mom puts her hand on mine and I look out the window, trying to keep my feelings at bay. It’s been five years, and I’ve realized that even if I did talk to them, what would it matter? They probably want nothing to do with us . . . with me.

Sighing at the thought again, I contemplate maybe leaving the topic alone. Deep down inside, while I do want to see them again, the reason I’ve danced around the idea is the chance of seeing him too.

Maybe he missed me, maybe it was all a misunderstanding?

I haven’t thought about him so much, but once in a while, I get buried under our memories. Then, we moved back to Los Angeles and I was seeing places we would frequent. My heart wants him back in my life, but I hate that I hurt myself like this. I wish I could forget him, but I just can’t.

His beautiful smile, his reassuring words that made me feel so special, and those eyes. Those forest-green eyes that captivated me with this special sparkle—it was like they told a story.

One that involved us staying friends forever, or even maybe one day becoming more.

“There it is.” I look where Mom’s pointing and a smile starts on my face at the university signs and humongous buildings. We keep driving, following the other cars most likely heading to the parking garage. My heart beats faster with childlike wonder as I watch all the students walking around.

Once we’ve parked, I jump out, Josh and Mom following suit. He takes out my duffel bag while I swing my backpack on. I look at my emails in search of the one regarding Mella Colta orientation. Mom brushes something off Josh’s jacket, her pantsuit matching his. “So, where are we headed?”

“According to the email, it says the MCSU?” I reread to make sure I had it right, and then look at her exasperatedly.

“How are we supposed to know what that is?” Josh asks.

I rub my forehead before Mom playfully knocks me with her hip. “All the more reason to go exploring, we’re forty-five minutes early.”

She glances at Josh as he pinches the bridge of his nose and rolls his eyes. They follow me as I walk onto campus somewhat reluctantly. Finally, seeing a tent with “Information & Help” printed across it, I practically sprint there.

“Hi!” A woman with “Vanessa” printed on her name tag glances up at me while the other person barely looks my way.

“Hi, um, I’m here for ori—”

She hands me an information packet. “Orientation, yes, we have a lot of you guys today. So, what you’re gonna do is head toward that huge student union building right near the hawk fountain.

Trust me, you can’t miss it.” She smiles brightly, and I sigh in relief, giving her a thank you while dragging Mom away from being flirted with by a student, Josh glaring at the cocky kid.

I weave between a bunch of families who look as confused as we are. Mom and Josh scrunch their noses we start our journey to what I now know is the student union. Knocking into something—or rather, someone—the papers in my hand go flying.

I bend down as I say, “Sorry—didn’t mean to bump into you.”

His arm is outstretched and my eyes catch the tattoos that litter from his fingers all the way up.

He bends down too, and a tingly feeling starts.

But before I can discern what it is, I hear a low, “No problem,” as he hands me the papers and disappears into the crowd.

Goose bumps cover my arms and I raise my head, trying to see if I can spot the stranger.

Coming up short, I sigh as my name is called.

My head snaps toward the voice, and Josh and Mom are farther ahead.

They wave at me, and I squeeze between people to reach them.

Mom places her hands on my shoulders. “Honey, you need to stay close.”

I nod, rubbing a hand over my arms as the goose bumps still remain.

As we walk with the crowd, more people with the university’s logo on their shirts appear, and it causes a breath of relief.

We receive wristbands to wear and find seats closer to the front—Josh’s orders—causing me to look up at the crowded stage.

I hear a psst sound as Josh mutters, ‘‘Sit up straight, stop slouching.” Mom shrugs sheepishly.

The thing people don’t tell you about school orientation is that they go on for hours and hours about absolutely nothing.

A quick scan around and almost every single kid is on their phone while their parents write down everything.

I sigh deeply, my head leaning on Mom’s shoulder.

She moves to grab my hand in hers in a comforting gesture, and I smile at that.

A hushed whisper comes from her. “These things drone on, don’t they?” A low chuckle erupts from me, but Josh is shooting daggers, sitting perfectly proper. I nod in response against Mom’s shoulder when another person comes on the stage, signaling that it’s time to separate.

Mom shoos me toward my orientation leader, and I see Vanessa and a guy chatting away with someone else.

“Hi, again! Are you part of the Red Hawk group?” Before I can even say anything, she grabs the paper from me and scans it intently, a smile coming on her face.

“Ooh, you’ll be living in Juniper Hall, so we’re also temporary roommates for tonight too.

Let’s go!” She squeals excitedly and a sense of relief washes over me.

She then grabs my hand and brings me over to the other leader, and my eyes widen as to what she might do. “Hey, Chase!”

The guy, Chase, has this popular jock thing about him as he turns around after clasping hands with someone.

“This is my new bestie—” She waits for me to fill in the blank, but I don’t.

Why is he looking at me like that?

He scans me up and down, staying on my face a little longer than normal, but then snaps out of it.

“Bianca Harrison,” I finally say, and he nods somewhat before shaking his head in disbelief.

He sticks out a hand with a small smile. “Have we ever met before?” I look between them before shaking my head. He sticks his hands in his pockets, and his actions seem almost shy. “I’m sorry, probably confusing you with someone else.”

I nod at that and Vanessa squeals again, then Chase turns around to announce the tour is about to begin.

She links her arm with mine and I’m proud that I’ve already found someone on this huge campus.

They take the scenic route, and I act like I haven’t memorized the map.

After a couple hours, we stop at the dining hall, and I pile the “good” food on my plate.

I scan around for any open tables when Vanessa and Chase wave me over to theirs.

I look over my shoulder, but they laugh before they point at me and wave me over once again. I rush to them, thankful I won’t be sitting alone. The cold plastic sticks to the bottom of my thighs and I hiss under my breath, but I mask it with a smile.

“So, how you liking MC?” Chase dips his fries in ketchup as Vanessa smiles over at me for a bit before turning around in her seat to talk to somebody else behind her.

“It’s really nice, fancier than I thought.” I look down, drizzling the Caesar dressing on my salad, and he chuckles.

“Glad to hear it. So, I know it’s been asked all day, but what major are you?”

“Animal science with a minor in astronomy.” His eyebrows shoot up and I roll my eyes slightly. “Were you expecting something else?”

He chuckles softly again, giving me a look with his blue eyes. “See, this is me not falling for that, but you’re the first person I’ve met with that major.”

“What about you?” I counter, and he sighs deeply, running a hand through his blond strands.

“Aerospace engineering.”

I nod. Engineering is definitely one of the harder majors out there. “How’s that going?”

“I have two years left, and one of my professors is screwing us with the latest homework, but I guess I can’t complain.” I go back to eating when Vanessa turns around with a smirk.

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