Chapter 8
Mia
‘Gorgeous, isn’t it?’
I didn’t realize how long I’ve been holding my breath in the lobby of the Hazelwood Library until someone clears their throat and makes me jump.
Gorgeous is an understatement. When I stepped through the doors, bag clutched to my chest, map in one hand, coffee in the other, I almost started to cry.
The famous dome of the library towers above me, the double height windows on the second floor flooding the space with light and illuminating eight tall arched entrances, all leading off in different directions, and books everywhere. It’s like something out of a fairytale.
A friendly-looking guy, somewhere in his late twenties, with sandy brown hair and a kind look, stands up behind the circular desk.
‘It’s incredible,’ I say, attention drifting back up to the inside of the dome, the gold sculpted roses and pretty blue geometric patterns. ‘How did they even do that?’
‘With a lot more commitment to hanging upside down than I’ll ever know. Can I help you with something? Preferably something that doesn’t entail hanging off a twenty-foot platform for three years?’
I step forward into the dome and let the light wash over me. ‘I’m here for the international students’ meeting, it’s in the Greenwood room?’
He turns to point to the archway directly behind him, a warm glow coming off the wood-panelled walls.
‘Right through there, second door on your left, you can’t miss it.’
‘Thank you,’ I reply in hushed tones, still staring at the place in awe.
‘First time in?’ The guy behind the desk smiles and the laugh I offer in response is hushed and awkward.
‘It’s that obvious? Definitely won’t be my last.’
‘You say that now, but you’d be amazed at how many students we see during the first week and never again. At least not until it’s essay time when they start panicking.’
It’s hard to believe people aren’t falling over themselves to hang out here; the Hazelwood is iconic.
Although the ‘no eating, drinking or loud talking’ sign propped up on the desk is a necessary reminder that libraries aren’t really ideal for socializing.
Not something I ever had to worry too much about before.
‘I’m Del, head librarian.’
He pushes a pair of steel-rimmed glasses up his nose then reaches his hand in my direction. I step forward to shake it, cool, firm and strong and I can’t help but think how strange it is to meet someone who would claim that title on purpose.
‘Mia,’ I reply. ‘Nice to meet you.’
‘Let me know if there’s anything you need.’ Del drops his hands to his hips and eyeballs a stack of books as tall as me piled up on a trolley. ‘I’ll be here all day. And all night probably. We never can get the staff around here. Working in the library feels too much like homework to most people.’
‘But not you?’
‘If my boyfriend didn’t come to get me at the end of the day, I’d never leave. Just look at this place.’
I am looking, it’s truly beautiful, but my plan is to spend less time in the library this year, not more.
‘Better let you get back to it.’ I gesture at the trolley of books and hug my bag to my chest. ‘I have a meeting to get to.’
‘Have fun!’ Del calls after me. ‘But not too much, this is a library.’
The Greenwood room isn’t quite as grand as the lobby, but it is calm and quiet, with a dozen or so chairs set in a half circle facing a desk and a creaky-looking blackboard on wheels.
I’m the first to arrive, a couple of minutes early, so I slip into one of the chairs close to the door, and take out the book I have stashed in my bag.
Arriving early is better than showing up late, but walking into an empty room gives my brain too much opportunity to invent stressful scenarios.
Did I get the time wrong? Am I in the wrong place?
And when people do start filtering in, will I have to talk to them?
Will they think I’m leading the meeting and expect me to know stuff?
And that’s why I never leave home without a book.
In my experience, strangers are way less likely to try to draw you into a conversation if you’re reading than if you’re on your phone.
I’m several pages into a reread of Villette, my Bronte obsession kicking up a gear since I got accepted at Hemden, when the door opens and two more students walk in.
Two girls, one with long blonde hair, the other with a jet-black ponytail.
I have two choices. Keep my head down, continue to read and pretend I’m engrossed in the music that is not playing through my silent earbuds, or say hi and introduce myself.
They take their seats across the room from me, still talking to each other, only the blonde glancing in my direction as I continue to stare at the same page.
This is dumb, I should just say hi, I don’t want them to think I’m rude.
But now it feels weird, like it’s been too long.
Right as I pop out an earbud, mind made up, the door opens again and a half dozen students file in all at the same time.
My cheeks flame and I’m burning with embarrassment as the room fills up, every seat taken except for the one next to mine.
Everyone else arrives with someone but me.
Did I miss a memo? Was there a meeting before the meeting I wasn’t invited to?
And is it because Breanna was right, and this outfit is terrible?
‘Hey, everyone.’
A super tall guy with dark hair and tan skin stands up at the front of the room and holds his hands up in the air as though surrendering to the din.
‘Okay, let’s get started so I can get you all out of here, I know no one wants to be in orientation when the legal drinking age is eighteen.’
There’s a buzz of polite laughter and I try to settle into the meeting. No one is looking at me. No one is thinking about me. I’m overreacting.
‘I’m Freddie Thornton.’ He speaks in a Midwest American accent I can’t quite place, but it’s immediately comforting.
‘I’m your student liaison for the year so anything you need, anything at all, you come to me.
Short biography because no one cares, I came to Hemden two years ago on the same junior year abroad program you’re on today and loved the place so much, I came back to get my master’s in theoretical and computational chemistry.
In case that’s your kind of thing.’ He grins and a quiet chuckle rolls around the room.
‘No takers? I’m shocked. It’s usually such a conversation starter.
Anyway, on to the stuff you need to know.
Life at Hemden. By now, I’m hoping you’ve all been to the student services office and signed your enrolment forms, right? Right?’
The group confirms as a chorus and while Freddie goes on to detail the ins and outs of campus life, most of which I’ve already heard from Alice, I take a look around the room.
There are ten kids, eleven including me, and I’m surprised it’s such a small group.
I knew the program was competitive but I didn’t realize it was this selective, and just for a moment, I allow myself a swell of pride.
Then I realize one person is missing, and that pride evaporates.
‘So yeah, the no cell service and limited internet thing is annoying, but you get used to it scary fast,’ Freddie is saying when I check back in.
‘There’s one phone on each floor of your halls and you each have a cubby down in the porter’s office for messages, mail and packages.
I recommend you check it regularly, at least once a day.
Any messages from your professors, lecturers, anyone from the university, will go into your cubby.
You’re going to want to check your department noticeboard every day also.
All your course, lecture or seminar-specific messages will go up there. ’
‘Wouldn’t it be easier to, I don’t know, get the cell service figured out?’ asks the cute blonde girl with a Texas twang. ‘I don’t know about y’all but running backwards and forwards to check messages seems pretty dumb to me.’
Freddie clicks his tongue. ‘Afraid not. It’s the way they’ve always done it here, can’t see a one-thousand-year-old institution changing its system just for us.
Ideally, the school doesn’t want you on your phones at all, but if you really need cell service outside the halls, head towards the boathouse and the sports centre.
You can usually pick up a signal down there and since they’re not strictly educational buildings, you won’t get fined if you get caught. ’
‘Typical,’ the girl says with a snort. ‘Jocks stay winning.’
‘Speaking of jocks, if you’re looking to get involved in sports, Hemden has the top university football and rowing teams in the country. That’s collegiate soccer and crew to you.’
‘And I thought coming to school in the UK would be the easy option because I already spoke the language,’ groans one of the button-down guys. ‘Now you tell me I need to be bilingual to get by?’
‘Aubergine means eggplant, pavement is sidewalk, a wardrobe is a closet and do not make fun of the way they pronounce aluminium or you will get your ass kicked and I won’t help because you’ve been warned.
’ Freddie folds his arms across his chest and rests against the desk at the front of the room, looking every bit the cool young professor.
‘Okay, shall we go around the room and get to know each other? Name, where you’re from, what you’re studying and one thing you’ve learned about life at Hemden so far. Who wants to go first?’