CLAIRE:

I was so brave.

Truthfully, I was more excited for college than I was afraid, but there was a profound melancholy sting in my chest as well as I started packing that only intensified when the packing was done, then again when my parents hosted my going-away party, then again when the car was loaded, then again when we embarked on the six-hour drive north to school. By the time I was moved into my dorm, however, the ache was almost entirely replaced by determination, amplified by the excited adrenaline rush that always accompanied something new.

It was time for my fresh start. And I was ready for it.

My roommate had already moved in, but she wasn't in the room when I arrived, so I was able to move in very efficiently with my parents' help. I was settled rather quickly, and then it was time to say goodbye.

No. Not goodbye.

"I'll see you in a couple of months," I said, offering my parents a brave smile despite the tightness in my throat. "Thank you for all of your help moving, that would have taken me ages by myself — "

"You don't have to thank us, we're always happy to help, and we're always just a phone call away," Mom interrupted as she rested her hands on my shoulders. I brought my forehead to hers as she kept talking. "I mean it, honey, if you need anything for any reason, just call, and we will drop everything and be here in six hours."

"Five," Dad choked out.

Mom and I both turned to look at him just as the tears spilled down his cheeks.

"I'll be here in five hours if you need anything, Claire Bear," he said, fully crying at that point. "We love you so much, and — and we're so proud of you, and — and we're going to miss you, and — and — "

I jumped into his arms, and he trembled as he hugged me back. I didn't dare speak, for fear of shaking loose the tears in my throat. I knew that if I started crying too, I'd never stop.

Mom joined the hug after a couple of seconds, and the three of us remained locked like that for a very long time.

I pulled away first, swallowing hard, summoning my courage.

"I love you," I said as I looked back and forth between Mom and Dad. I wanted to memorize every detail of their faces, on the off-chance this was the last time we'd ever see each other. I knew in my heart of hearts that this wasn't a goodbye, but... after Lucy... "So much. I'm going to be back home before you know it, Thanksgiving is really just around the corner, if you think about it. I'm going to be okay. I promise."

"We know." Mom reached out to hold my face, tears glimmering in her eyes. "You're going to be better than okay, honey. You're going to shine so bright."

I cleared my throat in an attempt to force away the tears still trying to claw their way to the surface. "I'll do my best. And — if — if anything happens with Lucy, please — please let me know."

"Of course," Mom said, "of course."

Dad let out another gut-wrenching sob, and the three of us hugged again, painfully aware of the absence of the fourth person who should have been in the hug with us. In time, we all broke apart, and I hugged Mom and Dad each individually. They both held tight to me, and I could tell they were scared that they were going to lose me too.

"I expect a welcome-home parade in November," I said, raising an eyebrow at my parents. "You're only crying because you're thinking about Thanksgiving and you're scared the Bears are going to lose the Thanksgiving Day game, right?"

"Right." Dad nodded, wiping the tears from his cheeks. "Of course. That's it. You're right. You know us too well."

I grinned. "Save your tears for after the game, Dad."

"Will do," he replied as he kept scrubbing his face. "Well, have fun, Claire Bear. Stay out of trouble, and if you find yourself in it anyway, call us and we'll be here no matter what."

"Thank you," I said. "Take care of Grandma and Papa. Tell Patrick I miss him already. Lindsay and Nneka know they're supposed to call me if they hear any good gossip. You can call me if you hear any good jokes or have any important news, or just because you miss me."

Mom glanced at Dad before looking back at me. "You can still rescind that offer. I'm not sure you're fully aware of just how many calls you'd be receiving."

I laughed. "It's okay, I know you'll miss me. I mean it. You can call whenever you miss me. I'm going to miss you too. I can't start properly missing you until you leave, though, so if you don't mind — "

They both chuckled, and I hugged Dad one more time, then Mom, and just like that, they were gone, and I was alone.

I looked around the room that would be home until June. It was thankfully bigger than I was expecting. I would be sharing the room with one other roommate, a girl named Lorna, who had already moved in.

I hoisted myself up onto my bed and looked at her half of the room.

It was rather plain in terms of wall decor, but her half of the room was far from barren. I could see overflowing boxes beneath her bed, and her desk, though organized, was so full there would scarcely be room for an open textbook and a notebook. She had a couple of small posters on her wall, a painting of a succulent, a painting of a bowl of fruit, a small collage of pictures of her dog, but other than that, I had no true indicator of what her personality was like. We'd sent a couple of emails back and forth to try to get to know each other, and she seemed nice enough.

I looked around my half of the room, trying to figure out what kind of first impression people would have of me based on how I'd chosen to decorate. I'd thought about it a great deal, but it would soon be put to the test.

I had a patchwork of posters hanging on the wall that ran along the length of the bed, interspersed with photographs. I obviously had one poster dedicated to each sport I'd ever loved — I'd been offered positions on both the soccer and basketball teams, but I'd decided to just take my first year of school to focus on academics and try to find myself before deciding if I wanted to continue being a student-athlete. In between my soccer, basketball, softball, track, and swimming posters, I had pictures of me with my friends and teammates from each sport.

On the chunk of wall wedged between my sports wall and the window, just above my pillow, I had more personal memorabilia. A picture of the view from Grandma and Papa's house in the Santa Ynez Valley, a picture of me at the age of twelve sound asleep on the couch curled up with Chewbacca, a picture of our entire extended family, Lucy included, and the most recent pictures of Mom's side of the family and Dad's side of the family, Lucy not included. I had a dinosaur poster, and a Star Wars poster, and a large painting I'd made with Lindsay and Nneka over summer. We'd gotten three large canvases, one for each of us, then each chosen a paint color to splatter over the canvases, as abstractly and artistically as possible. It offered a bright pop of green, orange, and yellow to the room — green for Nneka, orange for Lindsay, and yellow for me — and the photograph next to it, which featured the three of us covered in all three colors of paint, because of course our artistic endeavor had devolved into a paint war, always made me smile.

My bed was rather cozy, since I had a mattress topper. I hadn't wanted to worry too much about making a statement with my bedding since I knew my walls would be so colorful, but I did like the yellow polka-dotted sheets I'd found and the sunny yellow comforter that would live under my bed until late October or early November. And of course, Tenderheart Bear had come with me, standing guard in front of my pillow.

Funshine Bear had come too, and lived under my bed. I wasn't sure if or when she'd make an appearance.

I'd done my best to arrange my half of the room neatly. My desk was far emptier than my roommate's, featuring only half a dozen of my favorite books, a couple framed pictures, and a yellow cup that held a handful of pens and pencils and highlighters. My notebooks and textbooks were all stowed away in my backpack for the time being, but that was certain to change once the school year started. As far as my other belongings were concerned, I'd managed to fit all of my warm-weather clothes into my small closet, and my cold-weather clothes were living under my bed in my suitcase, where I knew they'd remain, untouched like my comforter, until late October or early November.

I inhaled deeply. I was on my own. The fresh start I'd been craving was upon me.

The adventure was about to begin.

I reached for one of the books on my desk — The Importance of Being Earnest, predictably — and settled on my bed to read it again. I was just getting lost in the story when the door opened and a girl stumbled in.

"Oh, hi!" she said, offering me an excited smile. "Hi, you must be Claire! I'm Lorna!"

"Hi," I replied as I snapped my book shut and scrambled off the bed to extend a hand.

She stared at it, smile fading a bit. "Sorry, I — I'm not a huge physical touch person unless it's my boyfriend."

"Oh, no problem!" I said, instantly tucking my hands into the back pockets of my shorts. "Still, it's nice to meet you!"

"Nice to meet you too! I was helping my boyfriend move in, he's a freshman here too, his room is upstairs. He's a history major. You're doing something with child development, right?"

I nodded. "And you're doing something with nutrition?"

"Yeah! I used to really struggle with food, so I learned a lot about it and figured I'd put my knowledge to good use. I have a better relationship with it now, but I want to help other people who might struggle the same way. I really love cooking too, so that's another reason I wanted to choose to study food. Do you enjoy cooking?"

"Not particularly," I admitted. "I prefer eating."

Lorna laughed. "Well, I suppose that's fair. Speaking of eating, are you hungry?"

"Very," I said. "I'm a little scared of the dining halls, though, if I'm being perfectly honest. I was thinking about venturing downtown and eating at the first place that smelled good. I've been brave enough for one day, I'll be brave and try the dining halls tomorrow."

"Honestly, finding a restaurant is a more appealing idea than trying to figure out the dining halls on our move-in date," Lorna agreed. "Do you want to go together?"

I nodded. "That works for me! Do you want to walk or bike?"

"Bike. I need to get used to it."

"Me too," I said, reaching for the helmet I'd hung on a hook and putting my wallet in my pocket.

Lorna looked past me and studied my wall. "You need to get used to biking?"

I grinned sheepishly. "Yeah. I'm used to running everywhere. Or driving, but I'm not about to drive downtown."

"Oh, you brought your car?" she asked, eyes wide. "I wasn't allowed to bring mine."

"I, um, my parents thought it would be best if I had my car with me, in case I needed to go home right away for any reason," I replied. In truth, I had the car so I could get home as fast as possible if Lucy happened to show up, to spare my parents (and Lucy) the six-hour drive to a town she didn't really know, but I didn't exactly want to explain that whole situation within minutes of meeting my roommate.

Lorna sighed. "I guess that makes sense. My family only lives an hour away, so they can come get me if something happens. I think the fact that I've crashed my car doesn't help my case."

I frantically bit my lips together to avoid laughing, because she seems perfectly sincere and disappointed and confused. I nodded. "Yeah, that's a bit of a complicating factor, I think."

"It wasn't my fault, the stop sign was poorly placed," she said with a sigh. "Oh well. Let's go find food, I'm starving."

Soon enough, we were biking side-by-side downtown, and our noses happened to lead us to the same Mexican restaurant. We talked while we ate, our conversation pleasantly easy. We talked about what classes we were talking that quarter, and about how our summers had been. I asked Lorna about her boyfriend, and she was all too happy to sing his praises. He was a history major, like Nicolas, but he sounded like a far better boyfriend than Nicolas had been. When I said I couldn't wait to meet him, I meant it, he really just sounded like an upgraded version of Nicolas, the way she talked about him.

We wandered downtown a bit more just the two of us, scouting out restaurants we wanted to try in the future and finding an ice cream shop that we decided we wanted to try right then and there. By the time we got on our bikes again and made our way back to the dorm, the sun was beginning to set.

More people had moved in while we'd been exploring, so we exchanged pleasantries with the handful of our new neighbors hanging out in the halls, basic introductions — name, hometown, major, and the like — before ducking into our room.

"That was fun," Lorna said.

I nodded. "I agree! I think I'm going to go shower now. Are you a morning shower person, or a night shower person?"

"I'm a 'whenever I can muster up the energy to shower' person," she replied. "That's usually in the morning, though. You're a night shower person?"

"Yeah, I'm a 'shower once I'm home for the rest of the day' person. I just figured I should shower now to get ahead of the true night-shower crowd."

"Seems wise. I'll be here when you're back! I think I'm going to hide in here the rest of the day."

I laughed as I gathered everything for my shower and made my way down to the bathroom. The thought of communal showers wasn't a particularly appealing one, but fortunately I'd never been very body-shy, so I was better off than a lot of other girls would have been in the same scenario. The showers weren't that gross (yet), and I had brushed my teeth and returned to my dorm in no time.

Lorna was sprawled on her bed, Game Boy in hand.

"Oh, cool! What game are you playing?" I asked.

"Kirby's Star Stacker. I'm a bit obsessed." She set it aside, though, and twisted on her bed to stare at me. "So, Claire, tell me about yourself."

I put all of shower supplies back in my closet, then hopped up onto my bed. "Well, what do you want to know?"

"Everything."

"Everything?" I echoed.

Lorna nodded. "Yes, well, we're roommates, aren't we? We might as well know everything about each other. You have to know everything about each other to be friends! I'll go first, if you want."

"Uh, sure, go for it," I said, nodding.

When I said I was hoping I'd be best friends with my roommate, this wasn't what I had in mind, I thought to myself as Lorna started talking and I started worrying about when it'd be my turn to share my life story.

She truly shared her whole life story, telling me about eating disorders and toxic ex-boyfriends, about how her family always preferred her younger sister and how her grandma's dementia affected her. I listened with open ears and an open heart, nodding and offering words of sympathy in what I hoped were the right places. Such raw vulnerability was so foreign to me. The people who really knew me only knew me because they had been around for so long that they'd experienced my highs and lows right alongside me. I'd lived within the same bubble, more or less, for my entire life.

But, in the name of being brave, in a new place, I decided it was time to expand my bubble to one more person. She was my roommate, after all, and I wanted to be her friend, and friendship was impossible without at least a little bit of vulnerability. Lorna didn't know just how much she was asking of me, but, well, I wasn't sure if it mattered. In any event, she'd be hurt later if she found out I kept something like this from her, and I didn't want that.

When she was done with her story, I drew a deep breath and released it in a sigh.

"Well, honestly, I wasn't really planning on talking about this much, if at all, especially not right away, but... when I was six, my sister was kidnapped."

Lorna gasped. "What?"

I half-shrugged apologetically. "You said you wanted to know everything. The fact that my little sister was kidnapped has shaped everything about my life."

"What happened?" she asked, sitting straight up in bed and leaning closer. "How? Where? Why?"

"I don't know the why yet," I replied. "She's still missing. We were in England for my great-grandmother's funeral, and there was an eclipse, so we went outside to look at the moon. And..." My voice trailed off. I hadn't told the story, not like that, in years. I'd told Nicolas before we started dating. He was the last person I'd trusted like that, and it hadn't exactly ended well, so I was nervous in that aspect, but beyond that, it just simply wasn't a very pleasant story to tell. I tried and failed to catch my breath.

"What happened?" Lorna prompted. "Did you see anything? Did she just wander off?"

"No." My voice came out higher-pitched than intended. I felt badgered, but Lorna was looking at me expectantly, too-familiar curiosity burning in her steely blue eyes. "I didn't see anything, and she didn't wander off. My dad heard something in the woods, so he sent me back to the hotel with my mom and he was supposed to come back with Lucy a couple minutes later. He came back alone. An animal in the woods snatched her away."

Lorna's brow furrowed. "Why did you split up? That seems dumb."

"Because," I said through gritted teeth, "my dad said we'd go faster just the two of us. He wanted to give us enough time to get back before he followed, just in case there was something in the woods. He didn't want to lead it right to us, whatever it was."

"And you trusted him?"

Furious defensiveness surged in me. I was six years old again, being questioned by the authorities. "Yes, of course we trusted him, why wouldn't we? We had no way of knowing — knowing what would happen. Obviously now my dad wishes he'd acted differently, he has almost twelve years of regret and what-ifs bearing down on him, but it's not his fault."

She nodded slowly. "Right. So what happened after that?"

"We stayed in England during the initial investigation," I said, "but, well, when time passed and nothing concrete was found, we came back. Everything was different. Everything is still different. I — I tried to be good enough for two daughters. I worked hard in school and in sports, I tried to be funny, I tried to be happy, I tried to be enough even though I knew it was futile and I would never be good enough to fill the hole Lucy left when she was kidnapped."

"You think she was kidnapped by an animal in the woods?" Lorna asked. "As opposed to kidnapped by a person or mauled by an animal?"

"There wasn't enough — enough blood for the attack to be fatal. No body was ever found, obviously, which is why I say kidnapped instead of killed. And obviously I believe my dad, he said it was an animal that ripped her from his arms, not a person, so... I don't know what to think."

"What do you think happened to her? Do you think she's still alive somewhere?"

"Yes," I said without a second of hesitation.

"Interesting," Lorna replied slowly. "Interesting. Wow, I'm so sorry that happened to you, that's horrible!"

I deflated with a small sigh. She sounded sincere. "Thanks. Honestly, just about everything else about my life stems from that. Navigating friendships was hard. We had a lot of friends in common, so once she was gone, very few people wanted to be friends with just me." I pointed to the picture of me with Lindsay and Nneka on the wall. "They did, though."

"What about your parents?"

"What about my parents?"

"What were they like afterwards?"

"They were good," I said, voice cracking slightly. "I can't even begin to imagine how they must have felt. I don't know how they managed to be as good as they were. They loved me completely. They never made me feel like I wasn't enough, even though we obviously all miss Lucy very much. They made mistakes, obviously, there's nothing in any parenting handbook about what to do when one of your children is kidnapped and you still have to raise the other one. Nobody can be perfect, but I want to believe that everybody can be good. They are."

A surge of homesickness threatened to overwhelm me then. If Lorna noticed it, she was kind enough not to comment on it.

"Well, I'm glad you have good parents," she said finally. "That's very lucky."

"Yeah, it is," I replied. "Anyway, um, that's that. Do you want to talk about anything else before I go to bed, or...?"

Lorna shook her head. "No, it's okay, I know you have an early class tomorrow! Sleep! Good night!"

"Good night," I said, crawling into bed with my back to my roommate, curling around Tenderheart Bear. I kept waiting for Lorna to turn out the little lamp beside her bed, but no such thing happened. The light remained on.

I didn't care enough to ask her to turn it off, knowing that surely I'd have to just get used to the light being on when she was studying late into the night but I was going to bed, but it was still a bit annoying, considering I could hear the buttons of her Game Boy clicking away too. I just buried my face into Tenderheart Bear to block out the light.

I couldn't believe I'd told my roommate about Lucy on the first night of living together.

I regretted it. I couldn't yet tell if talking to Lorna was brave or foolish. I regretted it regardless.

Not because of Lucy. Never because of Lucy. I loved her. I missed her. She was my sister. I'd always love her, and I'd miss her as long as she was gone.

No, I regretted the vulnerability. I regretted feeling pressured to share Lucy with a relative stranger right away, and I regretted caving to that pressure.

The words of coaches echoed in my mind that night. Be big. Be big. I had failed. I'd let my new roommate trounce all over the boundaries I'd told myself all summer I was going to set on my own terms and no one else's.

Maybe my boundaries weren't boundaries at all. Maybe they were unnecessary defenses. Maybe I would look back on that night and be glad I'd been vulnerable and want to be vulnerable again in the future.

But maybe my boundaries were in fact just boundaries, and I'd just allowed the violation. Maybe they were healthy defenses. Maybe I would look back on that night and regret my vulnerability so much I'd never want to be vulnerable again.

I stifled my sigh against Tenderheart Bear's fur.

My "fresh start" was suddenly seeming a lot less fresh.

🩵💛❤️💜🩷

On my first day of class, I slept in, since I didn't have class until 10. It felt strange, waking up after the sun, but I supposed that since I'd worked so hard and successfully gotten into the school I wanted, I could afford to relax a little bit, sleep in every once in a while. I'd still have to work hard, I knew that, but I'd done it. I was in college. I could make the most of it without destroying myself in the process.

I braved the dining hall alone, since Lorna was still asleep, and to my pleasant surprise, the food was quite good. A small group of girls that I recognized from our floor waved me over, and we enjoyed a quick breakfast together, making small talk about our classes before we all went our separate ways.

I got to my first class so early that a different class was still in session, so I made my way back outside and decided to wander a bit. I was right next to the quad, after all, and campus was relatively quiet. I did a lap around the edge of the quad, looking around at all of the buildings and watching the squirrels skitter past me along the ground in pursuit of nuts, or whatever they ate. By the time I'd completed my lap around the quad, it was 9:50, so I made my way back up to the classroom and found a seat at the front of the room. I reached into my backpack for my first notebook, and busied myself with writing the subject name on the first page in calligraphy. It was silly, but I enjoyed the little project, which occupied my mind just enough to distract me from the anxiety of the fact that I was about to officially start my first college class.

"That's really cool," a girl said.

I glanced up, startled. The girl standing next to me had beautiful warm brown eyes and a kind smile. "Oh, thank you!"

"Is this seat taken?" she asked, gesturing to the seat beside me.

"No, it's yours if you want it," I replied.

"Thank you."

As she sat down, I looked back and forth. "I think we're the only ones with any interest in the front row."

The girl laughed. "I thought I'd be the only one, but I'm glad I'm not." She set her own notebook down in front of her and extended a hand. "Isabella Hernández."

I accepted her handshake with a smile. "Claire Everlin. Nice to meet you."

"Your calligraphy is beautiful," she remarked, looking at the flowery letters spelling Cultural Anthropology across the notebook paper. "Do you enjoy art?"

"I've never been much of an artist," I admitted, "but my mom's really into scrapbooking, and she does a decent amount of calligraphy in each scrapbook. I thought her fancy handwriting was cool, so she taught me. My minimal talents are typically reserved for birthday cards, but I got here early enough I figured I had time to make my first college notebook a little fancier."

Isabella shook her head. "Your talents are far from minimal. You're just starting here too, then?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Are you nervous?"

"Very." Isabella deflated slightly. "Are you?"

"You know, I'm nervous too, but I think I've got just enough confidence for the both of us, we can share," I said. "The fact that you're up here in the front with me tells me that you care about school enough to put yourself out there and work hard. I think we're both going to be okay."

"I think that's a very brave and optimistic way to think." Isabella smiled wide, and I found myself smiling back without having to think twice about it. "I'm happy to be sitting here at the front with you, Claire Everlin."

"Likewise, Isabella Hernández," I replied.

The professor appeared then, and class was soon underway. I wanted to keep spending time with Isabella, but unfortunately she had another class on the opposite side of campus, so she jumped on her bike and hurried away, but not without smiling at me again and saying she looked forward to seeing me in our next class. I mounted my own bike then and headed to the nearest dining hall for lunch, then made my way back to the dorm once I'd eaten.

The warm glow I felt after a good first class and a good lunch dissipated in an instant when I opened the door to our room and I found a large group of boys and girls alike congregated in there.

It wasn't the fact that there were people in there that bothered me. Our room was a shared space, and Lorna and I both wanted to make friends and we'd both established early on that we were okay with people hanging out in our room as long as we weren't studying too intensely.

No, it was the way they all looked at me. Everyone turned to look at me, and my stomach dropped to my toes.

They knew.

They were all looking at me with the same pitying looks I'd fled my hometown to try to avoid.

They knew.

"Oh, welcome back!" Lorna said brightly. She looked down at her wristwatch. "Oh no, if you're here, it must be almost time for my class, I need to go! Hope your first class went well! Bye, everyone!"

Lorna snatched her bike helmet off of her desk and grabbed her backpack and pushed past me out into the hallway.

I blinked, too stunned to speak or move for a second.

"I'm so sorry to hear about your sister," one of the girls piped up.

I blinked again and stepped tentatively into the room, shrugging off my backpack, not meeting anyone's eyes.

"Uh, thanks," I said, hoping I sounded sincere despite the defeat I felt. "She... she told you?"

"Yeah," a different girl said. "She had the door open, and she was talking loudly, and one by one we all started coming in here just to talk and hang out since we didn't have class, and once we were all here, she started talking about your sister and telling us that we had to be nice to you because of your traumatic past."

"I..." I was at a loss for words for a long moment. "Well, no, please don't be nice to me just because of that. I didn't... I never thought she'd just turn around and tell everyone about that. It's personal."

A third girl nodded. "Yeah, it's so uncool that she did that. We all thought it was really weird. Not what happened to you, though, we're all so sorry about that! It's just really weird that she felt like it was her job to tell us."

"She said that?" I asked weakly.

"Yeah, she said she didn't think you'd tell anyone else but that we deserved to know," one of the guys said, cringing. "Cindy tried to tell her that she shouldn't tell us if she didn't think you wanted to share, but she insisted that it was important and she was just trying to look out for you."

I sighed and put my hands over my face.

The first girl jumped up and hugged me. "It's okay, it's okay, we don't see you any differently!"

"Oh yeah, not at all, it's okay, it's good to know," another one of the boys said.

I lowered my hands and pretended that I believed their lies. "Right. Thanks. Anyway, um, well, since you're here, you're welcome to stay and hang out. I don't know much of anything about any of you, but you now know all about me." I cleared my throat and forced a smile. "Hi, I'm Claire Everlin, I love the color yellow, my sister was kidnapped when I was six, my favorite hobbies include reading and playing sports, especially soccer and basketball, and my favorite dinosaur is the triceratops. How about you?"

Everyone laughed, and one by one, they took turns introducing themselves with their names, favorite colors, hobbies, and favorite animals. The conversation turned in a more pleasant direction after that, and by the time they started leaving one by one to head off to class, I thought maybe we'd be able to be friends, even though they knew, even though I hadn't wanted anyone to know, not yet.

One of the girls, Cindy, didn't have any other classes that day, so the two of us made our way to the dining hall together. Cindy was from a small town in Oregon, and she had been feeling rather overwhelmed by just how busy Davis was even though she knew, objectively, it wasn't that big of a city, especially for California. Her favorite color was pink, she enjoyed painting, and her favorite animals were cats. We had a pleasant conversation while we ate, but I couldn't shake the sinking feeling that she pitied me. She was kind, and she seemed genuine, but there was just a delicate sort of kindness that stemmed from walking on eggshells that I'd gotten good at sniffing out over the years, and she unfortunately reeked of it.

"Do you want to come back to my room?" Cindy asked as we started our walk back to the dorms. "I can't imagine you really want to spend time with your roommate right now."

"I, um, I was going to call my parents actually," I said, "but thank you for the offer! I — I don't know how much time I'll want to spend in my own room for the near future."

"That's understandable," she replied sympathetically. "Well, if you want new company, my name's on the door right above my roommate's, I share a room with Isabella."

"Oh, that's funny, I sat next to an Isabella in my class today! Isabella Hernández?"

Cindy nodded. "Yeah! She had two classes today, I'm guessing she's back now, though. I should go ask her about her day. Maybe I'll see you later?"

"Yeah, maybe!" I offered her a smile, then set off in the direction of campus in search of a quiet spot where I could hide and call my parents.

I found a bench in the shade of one of the large science buildings, hidden in a corner, and pulled my cell phone out of my backpack, punching in my home phone number with shaking hands.

Mom answered on only the second ring. "Hello?"

"Hi Mom," I said, voice wavering.

She gasped. "Hi, honey!"

"CLAIRE BEAR!" Dad yelled from somewhere in the distance.

I giggled, despite the tears building in my eyes, when I heard running footsteps.

When Dad spoke again, he was much closer to the phone. "Hi, kiddo! How are you?"

"How are you, how's it going?" Mom asked.

"It's good," I said, voice still shaking. "I had one class today, and I ended up sitting next to a really sweet girl. I was doing calligraphy before class started and she said it was really cool, so thanks for that, Mom."

Mom chuckled. "Of course, honey. How's dorm life treating you so far?"

"Well..." My voice cracked.

"Oh no," Mom murmured. "What's the matter?"

"She — she told — " I choked out a sob. "I told my roommate about Lucy last night, in confidence, and then by the time I got back from class she'd told at least six other people, maybe more, I don't know."

"Oh honey," Mom said.

I cried then, hiding my face behind my hand while both parents said soft words of encouragement to me.

"I'm so sorry, honey, I know you wanted a fresh start," Mom whispered. "It's going to be okay."

"You'll make more friends," Dad said, "ones who don't know yet, don't worry. You still have so many fresh starts ahead of you, kiddo. Don't give up. I'm sorry your roommate did that to you, though, that sucks."

"I foolishly expected this would be easy," I managed, voice thick with tears.

Mom sighed. "I know, honey, I'm so sorry. You deserved something easy, for once. I wish I was there to hug you."

"I second that," Dad piped up. "Do you want us to drive up there to hug you?"

I let out a watery laugh. "I appreciate the offer, but it's okay. This is helping."

"How's the food up there?" Mom asked.

"Honestly, really good," I replied. "Nothing compares to a home-cooked meal, but it's been good so far."

Dad snorted. "Well, yeah, your mom's the best cook ever, obviously nothing comes close to that. Have you checked out the rec center yet?"

"I'm hoping to do that the day after tomorrow. I slept in today."

"You what?" Dad burst out. "Claire Bear, are you okay?"

I giggled. "Yeah, I am. To tell you the truth, though, I didn't enjoy it that much. Maybe that's why I've had such a horrible day, I started on the wrong foot a couple hours too late."

"Well, I for one think there's nothing wrong with sleeping in," Mom cut in.

"There's nothing wrong with it," Dad added hastily, "but I was worried for a second that you were really upset."

"I'll get up early tomorrow and see if that turns my luck around," I remarked with a grin, wiping my cheeks.

"And I will continue to enjoy sleeping in," Mom said. "I get up long enough to say goodbye to your father, then go right back to sleep for a couple hours. It's glorious."

My grin widened. "Happy to hear it. How's everyone doing down there?"

"We're good," Dad said. "We all miss you, of course, but we're good. I'm sorry you got off to a bit of a rough start, though, Claire Bear. It'll get better, and if it doesn't, well, you know where to find us."

"Thanks. I feel better already, it was just... frustrating," I said with a sigh. "I should head back to my dorm now, I do think I'm in the process of making one, maybe two, good friends who wouldn't gossip about me for the sake of gossiping about me, but thanks for talking to me. I miss you. I love you."

"We love and miss you too, honey!" Mom replied.

"Call us again any damn time you want, okay? Good day, bad day, doesn't matter, we're always happy to hear from you," Dad said.

I nodded. "Will do. Good night. I love you."

"I love you too!" Mom and Dad said in unison, and I smiled as I ended the call.

I got to my feet and scrubbed my cheeks, and I was still wiping my eyes when I rounded the corner and walked directly into someone.

"Oh, sorry!" I yelped, jumping back.

"It's okay — Claire?" Isabella asked. "Are you okay?"

"I — yeah — sorry," I stammered. "Are you?"

She nodded. "I'm alright, just... lost. I'm not entirely sure which direction my dorm is in."

"Are you in Segundo too?" I asked.

"I — yes, how did you know that?"

"Is your roommate Cindy?"

Isabella narrowed her eyes at me. "Are you stalking me?"

"No!" I shook my head. "No, not at all, we just live on the same floor, apparently. I talked to Cindy earlier, we got dinner together. Come on, we can walk back together, I know how to get back."

"You're a life-saver," she said with a sigh of relief. "I've been wandering for ages, too scared to ask anyone to help me."

"Well, I'm afraid I'm not giving you much of a choice, so you don't have to ask me anything," I replied. "I'll show you the way. Why were you too scared to ask for help, though? Everyone here — well, almost everyone here — has been perfectly friendly to me so far."

"Same here, it's just..." Isabella struggled with herself for a long moment. "I'm a first-generation student. I want to prove that I belong here, and asking for help on the first day because I can't get back to my dorm room seems counterproductive."

I whipped my head her direction incredulously. "Of course you belong here! You got in, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but now that I'm here, I just... I don't know. I thought everything would somehow magically be easy, but it's not. Which sounds silly now that I say it out loud — "

"No, it's not silly at all," I interrupted. "I was just on the phone with my parents saying I thought this was going to be easy, and I don't know what I honestly expected, I should never have expected it to be easy, but it's not easy at all and I'm still bitter about it. Well..." I offered her a smile. "Actually, talking to you is easy. You've been the easiest part of school so far, Isabella Hernández."

"Likewise, Claire Everlin," she replied with a bright smile right back at me.

"You belong here," I assured her. "We can figure this out together."

She nodded. "Thanks. So what happened to you?"

"Hm?"

"I could tell you were crying. What's wrong?"

"Oh, um..." I cleared my throat, an embarrassed flush creeping into my cheeks. "It's a long story, but, um, I told my roommate something in confidence, I felt kinda pressured to tell her something I didn't want to really tell her in the first place, and then she turned around and told a lot of people. I don't really know what to do about that."

"I'm so sorry!" Isabella exclaimed. "That's such a violation! How dare she!"

I laughed shakily. "Yeah, violated is a good word for how I feel right now. It's okay, though, I'll... I'll figure something out. That's how I met Cindy, your roommate, she was one of the people Lorna told."

"I'm so sorry," Isabella said again. "If it makes you feel any better, I won't ask anyone about it, and I'll try to stop anyone I hear gossiping about it."

"It's okay, I don't think there's anything anyone can do," I said, sighing. "Do you want to know?"

Isabella shrugged, looking rather apologetic. "It sounds like I'll hear one way or another. If you don't want to tell me yourself, that's okay."

"No, I... I'd like for it to be my choice for once. Relatively speaking. Well, here goes nothing." I wrapped my arms around my midsection. "My little sister was kidnapped when I was six. She's still missing. I've lived my whole life trying to grapple with the aftermath, trying to be good enough for two daughters even though that's obviously impossible."

"Wow, I'm so sorry," Isabella said, reaching a hand out to touch my arm. It was oddly comforting, even just that one touch. "I can't even begin to imagine. I have a younger sister, and she's my entire world. I'm so sorry."

I loosened my arms slightly and wished I was brave enough to lean into her touch. I wanted more.

"Thanks," I said after a moment. "Anyway, coming here was supposed to be my fresh start, away from all of the pitying looks I've received for the past almost-twelve years, but... here I am."

"Sorry." Isabella winched and looked away, retracting her hand. When she faced me again, she was smiling. "Hi, I'm Isabella Hernández, and you are?"

I laughed. "I'm Claire Everlin. It's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you too." She smiled wider. "So where are you headed?"

"Segundo," I replied.

"Oh, perfect, so am I!" Isabella said. "Say, you look vaguely familiar, were you in my anthropology class this morning?"

"Our fresh start doesn't have to be that fresh," I commented, giggling more, "but thank you. I appreciate it. I think we're going to be good friends, Isabella Hernández."

Isabella flashed me her brightest smile yet. "Likewise, Claire Everlin."

🩵💛❤️💜🩷

Despite my rather awful and off-putting first official day of school, I decided I wasn't going to let it defeat me. I woke up early, with the sun, and got ready for the day as quietly as possible so I didn't wake my still-sleeping roommate. I had two classes that day, geology followed by philosophy, so I had ample excuse to avoid the dorms for the day. I packed my bag with a book to keep me busy between classes, since I likely wouldn't have much homework, if any, and stepped out into the cool morning.

The smell of the cows hit me before I processed anything else, and I turned right rather than left in order to try to escape it. I decided it was high time to try the donut shop that I'd spotted during orientation that I hadn't tried yet, so I crossed the street and made my way over.

"Good morning!" the boy behind the counter called cheerfully. "What can I get for ya?"

I inhaled the wonderful aroma of fresh donuts and smiled. "Whatever your personal favorite is, and..." I studied the donuts behind the glass. "A chocolate cake donut."

"With sprinkles or chocolate chips on top?" he asked.

"Normally I'd say chocolate chips, but I think I'm going to go with sprinkles today, for good luck for my second day as a college student."

The boy grinned at me. "You think sprinkles are luckier than chocolate chips?"

"Of course," I replied without missing a beat. "Don't you?"

"Can't say I've ever thought about it," he said, leaning against the counter. "Walk me through your thought process."

"I'm starting to learn that differences create opportunities. Chocolate chips on a chocolate cake donut with chocolate frosting? That's delicious, don't get me wrong, that's always been my favorite donut, but that's so uniform. Consistent. Predictable. Sprinkles, on the other hand? Look at the burst of color that livens up an otherwise-dark donut. Maybe by eating such a colorful array of sugar particles, I'll invite variety into my own life that opens doors that would have remained closed had I never strayed from the ever-faithful chocolate cake donut with chocolate chips."

"Ah, you scandalous little traitor! Has the ever-faithful chocolate cake donut with chocolate chips wronged you somehow?"

I shook my head. "No, it's been perfectly delightful. I love it, truly, but I think it's time to try something new, in the interest of broadening my horizons and being brave."

"You're very brave for trying a new donut," the boy said with a nod as he put a chocolate cake donut with sprinkles into a bag.

"Is that sarcasm I detect?" I asked with mock offense.

"Not at all," he replied very sarcastically. "I'm afraid it would be asking too much of you to give you my favorite donut. Haven't you already expanded your horizons enough for one day? How much more bravery do you really have in you?"

"Quite a bit," I asserted. "I'm getting braver every day. What's your favorite donut, then?"

The boy smiled at me, a rather charming smile that made me smile back without thinking twice. "Strawberry jelly-filled donuts, of course."

I raised my eyebrows. "I see."

"You're not allergic to strawberries or anything, are you?" he asked.

"No." I thought back to Lucy, back to when she used to tell everyone she was allergic to strawberries. It wasn't true, she just hated strawberries, but she knew, even at the age of three, that having an allergy was a surefire way to make sure nobody tried to make you eat that food. "I love strawberries."

The boy's smile widened, and he ducked behind the counter to grab a jelly donut to put in my bag too.

"So I know that you think sprinkles are good luck, that you love strawberries, and that you're remarkably brave, but I don't know your name," he said as he popped back up and handed me my bag.

I smiled. "I'm Claire. And you are?"

"You're illiterate?" the boy asked, eyes widening as he gestured to his apron.

"I am not!" I protested. "If I'm supposed to be reading a nametag, I don't see one."

The boy looked down, then looked back up at me in horror. "Oh shit! Be right back!"

I giggled as he sprinted to the back room, then returned a couple of seconds later with a nametag reading MAX.

"Nice to meet you, Max," I said.

"Nice to meet you too, Claire," he replied.

I started to reach into my backpack for my wallet, but he held up a hand to stop me.

"Wait. I will let you pay for your own donuts on only one condition."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Oh yeah? What's the condition?"

"I'll let you buy these donuts now if you let me buy you a coffee later. Or a tea, or a lemonade, or anything else they offer at the coffee shop on campus. What's your schedule like today?"

"I have a class at 10 and a class at 3," I said, curiosity piqued. "How about you?"

"I'm here until noon, then I have a class at 2:30," Max replied. He smiled. "Do we have a date? If not, no worries, I will simply buy your donuts now as a token of appreciation for this pleasant conversation and your pretty..." He looked me up and down. "Well, everything. But if you truly insist on buying your own donuts right now, I in turn must insist you let me buy you your drink of choice later in the hopes of having another pleasant conversation with a pretty girl."

I considered his offer for a second. He was cute, and charismatic, and he seemed sincere. Sure, he was forward, perhaps too forward, but Besides, I was trying to be brave, wasn't I?

Lindsay and Nneka would say to go for it. At the very least, even if the date was awful, it would be a great story to tell later, about the boy in the donut shop who I charmed in record time.

I smiled. "We have a date."

"Great! I'll meet you at the coffee shop on campus at 12:15!" He beamed as he rang me up. "I hope your sprinkles are in fact lucky, Claire, and I'll see you later!"

"See you later, Max," I replied, smiling and waving back at him as I left the donut shop.

I walked until I was out of sight of the glass doors, then let myself giggle.

Maybe the sprinkles were lucky after all.

Both donuts were delicious, and by the time I got out of geology, I was rather excited about the date I'd managed to score, somehow.

As forward as Max had been in the donut shop, when I spotted him standing outside the coffee shop, he looked rather excited to see me walking over to him.

He offered me a surprisingly sweet smile. "Hey, Claire. You came. How was class?"

"It was good, thanks," I replied.

"I've got it," he said, reaching past me to open the door.

I giggled. "Thanks. How chivalric of you."

"Why of course."

Soon enough, we were sitting across from each other at a table near the window, an iced black coffee in my hand and a cappuccino in his. The conversation was surface-level, easy. It was exactly what I'd been wanting for so long. Max was charming, he was funny, and looking at him was no hardship.

I hadn't really looked at another boy since I'd dumped Nicolas. Not for lack of trying, but after a while, I began to wonder if I'd ever find love again. I began to wonder if Nicolas was the best I'd ever have. I wondered if I was doomed, or cursed, or if I'd just forever be alone. But that day, I felt a little bit of hope again. I knew that one good date didn't mean much in the grand scheme of life and love, but, well, it was a start.

We talked about sports, mostly. He was on the baseball team, and he knew a lot about pro football. He was a Green Bay Packers fan, and we had fun bantering back and forth since they were the long-time rivals of the Chicago Bears, my family's team of choice. He talked about his family, and I was content to just sit back and listen to him talk. He kept coaxing me out with questions about my own life, and I was happy to answer his non-invasive inquiries. The conversation was easy, enjoyable even.

By the time we went our separate ways, I was convinced.

Sprinkles were lucky.