Chapter 1 #3
“It is when you’ve got your period and can’t find the box of tampons you know you packed somewhere, but cannot for the life of you locate.
” She sighs, then jolts, smacking her palm against her forehead.
“I probably sound like a crazy person. As if it’s not weird enough to be almost six feet tall with hair that requires its own zip code, I’ve got to lead with menstruation?
” She offers a kind, self-deprecating smile that, paired with her humorous tone, immediately lets me know exactly who she is—friendly, outgoing, honest. “I’m Willa.
And yes, this school definitely has it against me, putting me in a house with basically the same name.
I’m hard of hearing—” She pauses to point to a small khaki disk stuck to the side of her head that I think might be a cochlear implant.
“So bear with me if I think you’re saying my name all the time.
I promise I’m not that self-absorbed. Anyway, do either of you have a tampon? Or any idea where the bathrooms are?”
“I’ve got a tampon,” I say, opening the top drawer of my dresser.
“And I know where the bathrooms are,” Nova adds.
We venture out as a trio, and Willa wasn’t lying.
Our floor is mostly guys, some geeky, some more athletic, a few I’d label as cute though I’m relieved when their eyes go to Nova first. I don’t think she even registers their interested glances as she walks by, too used to it maybe.
Between her famous mom and her looks, she probably gets stared at all the time.
Willa, too. First because of her height and her hair, but those double takes are clearly for her beauty.
I tuck my chin and keep my head down, far more interested in making friends than finding a boyfriend.
I don’t mind being overlooked. I actually kind of prefer it.
We find two more girls in the bathroom, and the five of us hang out for a bit, taking a lap around the first and third floors to meet everyone else in the house.
I see so many new faces and hear so many new names, I can’t even pretend to keep them straight.
At some point in the afternoon, the RA calls a house meeting to go over the rules.
We all pile on top of each other around the main staircase to listen.
It’s all pretty standard stuff—no drinking, no drugs, no hot plates.
We need to use our key cards to get in and out of the building.
He’ll be in his room if we have any other questions.
A bunch of us hang around afterward to chat.
I do my best to keep up, my smile a bit forced, the amount of conversation unnatural, but I’m so on the cusp of fitting in with these people that I push through the discomfort.
Nova and Willa don’t seem to notice. They take me under their wings, both so extroverted, they do the work for me.
When a group of us decide to go get dinner, I shoot a quick text to my parents, guilt-ridden but determined as I cancel our plans and tell them I’ll meet them for breakfast in the morning instead.
If I leave now, I know I’ll miss something.
I’ll be that girl on the outskirts, who didn’t see that funny thing that happened in the cafeteria, who didn’t hear those plans to meet up later, who missed out on some vital bonding moment that ties everyone else together, except me.
After dinner, we get ready for the welcome party on the lower quad.
Even though our RA sat us down not three hours earlier to tell us all that underage drinking is strictly forbidden in the dorms, handles of various liquors are produced while he hides downstairs in his room and pretends not to notice.
It’s probably the only line I won’t cross to fit in.
I don’t drink. I never liked it anyway, but after everything that happened, I’ll never do it again.
Nova and Willa don’t bat an eye. In fact, when one of the guys across the hall heckles me, they tell him off on my behalf, then pour me a “water shot” so I don’t feel left out.
One playlist, seven outfits, and I don’t remember how many shots later, I end up in high-waisted jean shorts and a tight black tank top.
Willa’s got on a floral minidress, and Nova pairs her pink skirt with a button-down vest. I realize my mistake the second we step onto the lower quad.
A strong breeze blows in off the lake, ruffling my hair, bringing goose bumps to my skin.
Sure, it’s late August, but in the mountains and on the water, it’s cool.
It’s not too bad in the thick of the crowd, surrounded by so many warm bodies, but we eventually end up on the pier so Nova can text her brother better instructions than, I’m on the quad next to some guy with a questionable amount of hair gel and raging BO, which yes, is an actual text she sent him.
I hug myself around the middle.
“Take my jacket,” Nova offers. “My vodka blanket is keeping me nice and toasty right now.”
Grateful, I slip into the warm leather and slide the hood over my head. “Did you see what happened to Willa?”
“She’s making out with some guy over there.
I didn’t want to interrupt.” Nova wiggles her brows with a grin and points back at the crowd.
I get a quick glimpse of curly blonde hair before Nova grabs at my arm again.
“Ooh, that girl over there has a flask. I’m going to go see if she’s willing to share. Want to come?”
The welcome party is officially a dry party since it’s being hosted by the university.
Unofficially, the campus security guards stationed around the perimeter don’t seem to care much as long as we’re being discreet and safe.
The group Nova’s pointing to is a little farther down the pier, but I just don’t have another ounce of forced conversation in me right now.
“Go ahead,” I murmur, clutching the jacket closer. “I’ll stand watch for your brother.”
“Thanks!”
As soon as she leaves, I turn toward the dark lake.
The lights from the party reflect on the rippling surface—nature’s version of a disco ball.
I haven’t had a break in twelve hours, and I feel the exhaustion creeping in.
But I don’t want to leave. I just needed this—one moment alone to recharge and recover.
I dip my hands into the pockets and lower my chin, closing my eyes so I can breathe.
My therapist gave me ways to cope when I’m overwhelmed.
One of them is to ground myself. There’s a whole technique I’m supposed to follow, but right now, I just try to focus on the smooth, silky lining against my fingers, the warmth slowly sinking back into my skin.
Music, laughter, jovial shouts fill my ears, and beneath it all there’s the soothing rustle of leaves, the soft lapping of water on rocks.
I lick my lips, tasting the pine in the air.
My heartbeat slows.
The burning subsides.
I’m about to turn around to rejoin the party when an arm wraps around my waist.
“Gotcha,” a teasing male voice whispers in my ear as I’m pulled against a hard chest and lifted off my feet. He swings me around, as if to toss me into the water, and blind panic rips through me. Terror seals my throat so I can’t even scream.
“Logan! Stop!”
At the sound of her voice, he jerks around. “Nova? Who—”
He lets go at the same moment I thrash wildly, fear instincts taking over.
It sends me careening off-balance. The world spins.
I can’t see straight, can’t think straight.
Warm fingers wrap around my wrist to steady me, but it’s too late.
As I said before, I’m not that lucky. The entire pier is circled by a railing except for a few roped-off ladders. Guess where I stumble.
Scratchy fibers dig into my thighs. The last thing I hear before I fall back is a deep, pissed-off voice muttering, “Fuck.”
Then the lake swallows me whole.