Chapter Seven
It takes less than three minutes to walk over to Delancey Hall, where Camila is waiting for us in the lobby on one of the faded yellow chairs lined up against the entryway window.
There’s a student working the front desk, scanning IDs and collecting guest names on a sign-in sheet.
I have to flip to a fresh page, since all the rows on the first one are already full with names of visitors during these final days of the semester.
Camila has applied fresh makeup for the night, her hair teased back. Amelia leans over and whispers in her ear, something that makes Camila’s face contort with amused disbelief. Both girls laugh.
“What was that?” I ask.
“Nothing,” my sister says. I can tell it wasn’t about me, so I don’t press. She turns to me. “What was Declan’s brother’s name again? Maybe Camila knows him.”
“Grady,” I say.
“Oh, yeah, on the sophomore floors?” Camila says. “He’s, uh, nice enough, I guess.”
That’s such a vague response that could indicate a million different things, most of which are not great. I ask, “What does that mean?”
“Poli sci major,” Camila continues, as if that explains everything. By the knowing look on Amelia’s face, maybe it does.
Camila leads us down a hallway, past a long row of mailboxes and a package-collection counter that has a line of students waiting for the cardboard boxes crowding the small storage room.
I’m falling behind, needing to crane my neck to follow their conversation as we walk down the hall at a brisk pace, trying not to bump into people or accidentally slide my shoulder against a wall, which would likely knock down one of the many bulletin boards.
“He’s not a jerk, though, right?” I ask. It would seem out of character for Declan’s brother to be mean, but until today, I didn’t even know he had a brother.
“Nah. He’s one of those guys who knows everyone. Like, makes it his business to know everyone, but when you know everyone, do you really know anyone?” Camila pauses in front of the elevators. “What room was it?”
I check Declan’s text. “Three seventeen.”
Camila and Amelia bypass the elevators entirely, and we climb a few flights of stairs to get to the third floor, where we go down the long carpeted hall past many dorms that are hosting gatherings this evening.
There are signs plastered in the halls reminding residents that it’s finals week and to be quiet because people are studying, but those are mostly ignored.
We’re a handful of dorm rooms away, and from this angle, I can tell that the door to the room is wide open.
I let Camila and Amelia take the lead, not super confident about showing up to a person’s living space this casually.
I’m more used to hanging out with friends in a living room or basement, having to exchange pleasantries with their parents upon arrival, not walking right into their bedroom.
Yet Amelia nudges me ahead, since I was technically the one invited.
There are four guys standing inside the plain white walls of the mostly packed-up dorm room, past a tower of pizza boxes, exuberantly shouting over each other as they trade controllers for an ongoing video game on the mounted screen.
One of them notices us standing there and nods for the others to look.
“Are we at the right room?” I ask my sister and her friend since I don’t see Declan among the crowd.
“Yeah,” Camila whispers back, obviously recognizing the guys inside.
“Hey, you must be our Nebraska people! Dex’s friends.
” Who’s Dex? Yet the guy with cropped dark hair and a short beard who steps forward looks similar enough to Declan that it doesn’t take a leap to assume this is his sibling.
He’s in an oversized Eagles T-shirt that doesn’t seem to mesh well with the sort-of-corporate pleated pants and nicer shoes that he’s wearing, as well.
Like someone’s dad trying to sport an office casual look to manage this party rather than participate.
He holds his arms out wide and welcoming, and he strikes me as the kind of dude who thrives on social situations no matter what, as his voice booms over the noise of the TV. “I’m Grady. My brother should be—”
“Here, sorry.” Declan emerges from the common room doorway across the hall with a stack full of paper towels in his hands.
The relief I feel at his presence is almost embarrassing, and I hope not too obvious on my face.
“I thought I’d have to go downstairs to let you in.
We didn’t have plates or anything, so I was grabbing these.
” He smiles at me. “I didn’t know you were almost here. ”
“Amelia’s friend lives in the building,” I explain, cognizant that the rest of the room has gone somewhat quiet waiting for introductions.
Declan turns around. “This is Iris, Amelia, and—”
“Camila,” Grady says, giving her a charming politician smile. I almost expect him to reach out and clasp her on the shoulder. “Good to see you again.”
“Hey,” Camila says with an indifferent smile.
“I hear we’re driving out tomorrow?” Grady asks. “I’m an all-time champ at the license plate game. Isn’t that right, Dex? Watch me find three Alaska plates.”
“Sure, dude,” Declan says. It doesn’t evade my notice that he acts a little different around his older sibling.
Standing taller with his shoulders relaxed.
Ever so slightly more bro-y than the nerd I’m used to rolling dice against. But in a way that makes me feel like I’m getting the full picture of who he is.
Including this nickname.
Grady motions with his palms out wide, holding a can between two fingers. I keep expecting soda to fly everywhere, but nothing spills as he gesticulates enthusiastically. “Are we thinking like ten a.m. for tomorrow?”
I do some quick mental math. If we cover nine hours each day, plus the extra time for traffic and rest stops and food, how early do we need to leave to make sure we’re not driving after dark?
Also, should I explain that we don’t want to drive after dark? And why?
Amelia isn’t overthinking. With a friendly smirk, she says, “Could you wake up early enough for maybe…eight?”
“Oof.” Grady puts a hand to his chest. “Let’s split the difference and say nine?”
“Agreed,” my sister says with a shrug.
“Can I grab you anything to drink?” Grady offers us, gesturing to the open mini fridge behind him, but Camila is already stepping back into the hallway.
“No, thanks.” Amelia turns to me. “Text if you need anything.”
“Yeah,” I say, more confidently than I feel, as my sister disappears with her friend down the hall.
“They can’t stay?” Grady asks.
“They’ll be back later.” I figure that’s a less complicated answer.
“Cool, cool. Don’t forget to grab something to eat.” Grady gestures toward the pizza before stepping away to greet some more of his guests.
Declan hands me a paper towel, and I reach to take a slice, our arms brushing together as we turn toward the boxes. “Hey, little sibs, what do you think?” Declan says to me in a joking tone.
“Oh, didn’t you get the memo?” I tell him. “We don’t make the plans. That’s an older-sibling privilege.”
Grady’s already at the door but turns around mid-conversation to call back to me, “Great to meet you, Iris. Dex told me a little about the board game you were working on. I’ll want to pick your brain about that tomorrow.”
“Oh, sure,” I say, the part that jumps out at me the most being that Declan was telling his brother something about me.
I’m a little intimidated by the growing number of college students crowding this dorm, and I’m finding it tricky to tell what Declan is saying in all the noise, especially between bites of pizza. “What was that?” I ask, staring at his lips.
“Can you not hear me?” he asks, and then nods to the empty common room that’s right across the hall. I lead the way, and we take the rest of our pizza over to eat on the couch.
Declan must fall into the category of people who’ve known me long enough to have seen my older, more visible hearing aids, but he’s also someone I’ve never actually discussed them with. “This is better, right?” he asks.
“Yeah, it’s fine,” I say, which is usually my answer whether it is or not. “Thanks.”
“Of course.”
“We can go back whenever.”
Declan shakes his head. “I’m good here. It was getting to be a lot over there.”
“Your brother is quite the social butterfly,” I observe, staring back across the hall as Grady is clasping hands with even more attendees.
“Like he’s constantly running for office, even when there’s no election in sight,” Declan says.
I chuckle at his joke but then struggle to come up with another response because my biggest instinct right now is to somehow clarify that whole text situation.
But better yet, I’m just going to completely ignore that Declan saw that message from Amelia.
It was a simple matter of sibling teasing.
He understands that. There’s absolutely no reason to bring it up or to think he’s even thinking about it.
He nods toward Kermit. “I’ve never seen you wear that sweatshirt before.”
What’s a Muppet if not a conversation starter? I’m grateful. “You like it? My sister stole it, but now it’s been rightfully returned.”
“Gotta hate it when that happens.”
“Somehow I don’t see you and your brother regularly swapping clothes.”
He chuckles. “Nah, can’t say I have that problem. But I can still empathize.”
“I appreciate it.”
We fall into an easy groove, chatting for a while, mostly about anticipated Rivalry character decks, until I mention that I could’ve eaten another slice of pizza and Declan jumps up to grab us some more from across the hall.
When he heads back, I check my phone to see if there’s any update from Amelia, but there’s not. “Actually,” I say, waving my phone toward Declan while he puts the pizza on the coffee table in front of the couch, “let me send you the hotel info before I forget.” I forward him the address.
He nods while taking a bite, not checking his phone. “Cool. We’ll put that in the GPS.”