by Emme DeWitt
“If residency is a requirement, I’m pretty sure they’ll get pissed if I sneak off campus,” I argued. “I thought you said I had to stick it out. It’s a year and a half until graduation.”
“Then you figure it out,” Adele said rapidly since the secretary was almost ready to hang up her phone conversation. “You keep me updated though. I’m in your corner, remember?”
“Got it, Coach,” I said just as the secretary set the receiver back in the desk phone.
“Ms. Young?” she said. “We will transfer your things to your dorm room. Your guide is in the hall. She’ll…”
The secretary was cut off by another phone call, which she answered promptly with a reserved NPR voice.
“Good luck.” Adele stood on her tiptoes to give me a quick hug. “Behave?”
I snorted. I headed toward the doors the secretary had indicated, but a noise prompted me to turn around. The secretary was holding out a manila envelope, shaking it at me while she tried to remain impassive on the phone. Her face seemed desperate, so I went back to grab it. I lifted it in salute to both Adele and the secretary, bursting through the door into the narrow hallway before the lump in my throat would make things awkward.
Immediately, I met resistance. I looked around and realized I’d knocked down someone with the door.
“Whoa, sorry.” I crouched down to the fallen student.
Her long dark hair shielded her face, but she waved me off as I tried to help her back up.
“You okay?”
“Relatively.” She smoothed her uniform back into place. Without hesitation, she walked toward the illuminated exit sign in quick strides.
“Wait up.” I trotted after her.
Her hair flew behind her shoulder as she looked back at me in confusion. She didn’t slow her pace and was through the exit doors and out of sight by the time I reached them. I wasn’t used to having to keep up with someone a foot shorter than me, and the slick tiles made me wary of jogging.
The air compressors on the doors hissed at me as I looked around for the girl. The doors finally snapped shut with a thud, and I was alone. I tapped the manila envelope on my thigh as I thought about what to do next. Nothing much I could do if my guide abandoned me. A metallic noise came from the envelope, and I slowly walked down the brick archways toward a stone fountain I could see in the distance. Self-guided tour it was.
Three
As I walked, I ripped open the envelope, dumping its loose contents onto my open palm. I peered inside, noting several pieces of paper and some brochures. I’d check my class schedule later, and the map might be useful, but my attention was drawn to the keys I held in my hand. The first ring held a few discolored brass keys with a leather tab embossed with an insignia. I dropped those keys into my pocket and palmed the other key ring, holding it up to the light. The key was much older in style, but it shone brightly even in the cloudy fall air. It didn’t quite suit the ring or the thin metal snowflake-shaped disc it was stuck on.
Immediately, I twisted the key off the ring with its cheesy decal. I tossed the snowflake ring back into the envelope and put the older key in an inside pocket, not wanting to lose it now that it was on its own.
Looking up, I found myself already at the fountain. I scanned the buildings bordering the courtyard, noticing the archways behind me led to a similarly sterile old brick building. The facade from the parking lot looked much fancier with sculpted columns and molding, but on this side, it was all spare lines and narrow windows with very little fanfare. Definitely felt institutional.
I sighed and sat down on the edge of the fountain. The lip was wide enough for me to fold my legs underneath me in my favorite position. All tucked under, no one could tell how freakishly tall I was, and I could pretend to fit in for a little while. My hands rested on my knees in a meditation pose, and I soaked up the fading afternoon sun as the impact of the past half hour finally sunk in. As much as I always tried to fly under the radar, this time was different. Adele had talked about getting people in my corner, but as I sat with the cold concrete sandwiching me with the minimal warmth on my face, I knew staying the loner would be my safest, trouble-free option.
The manila envelope protested in my hand when I flexed my fingers unconsciously. I pulled out the brochures, noting the white faces and blues eyes staring back at me. The brown of my hand laughed against the bright sheen of the paper it held, and I sighed. The wind had blown my hair into my line of sight, and I carefully tucked it behind my ear. The curls sprang free almost immediately. No, fitting in would not be an option. The key was trying not to stand out too much. I just had to figure out exactly what that looked like.
My fingers had made their way to my lips, and by the end of the brochure, any nail that had dared to grow past the bed had been cut back ruthlessly to the root. I stopped the moment I tasted blood and scowled at my traitorous fingers. I rummaged through my satchel for the balm Adele had gotten me for my last birthday. Just thinking about Adele made the lump in my throat surge back to life, and I muttered angrily at all the obstacles between me and the soothing peppermint oil that would at least heal my cracking nail beds.
“Oh my God, your hair is so beautiful!” a voice shrieked in my ear.
My gut clenched about the same time I felt an unwelcome hand on my head. Instinctively, I blocked the hand and pushed its owner aside. My head whipped up to find the offender, my eyes blazing with anger.
In front of me stood a triad of brochure clones, all pale skin, light eyes, and blue tartan uniforms. The girl in front still had her hand outstretched, while the two clones behind her clutched their backpack straps nervously. Realizing I must look like a crazed animal, I worked hard to stifle the snarl curling my lips and purse them against the venom I was ready to let loose.
“Excuse me?” I said through clenched teeth. I tried to take deep breaths, but the hairs on the back of my neck and arms remained charged from the intrusion. The thing I hated more than anything else was someone touching my hair. The thought alone kept my rage fully intact.
“Sorry, I just couldn’t help myself!” The girl gave a childish laugh. “I’ve never seen hair like yours before. It’s just so luxurious. Like in a magazine. My hand just reached out on its own.”
The girls flanking the bold girl laughed at her bold behavior.
My eyes squinted to slits, but I managed a smile back. “Well, now you have.” I bit the inside of my cheek to keep my response to just that.
“Are those extensions? Mine never look that good.” The girl’s hand was outstretched for another round while her lip turned her smile into a pout.
I pulled my head back and out of reach. “Nope, all my own,” I said. “Unfortunately.”
“My hair could never get that much volume.” The girl pouted, her friends sympathetically patting her back. “This weather makes it so lank and stringy. I’m so jealous!”
“Yeah, weather can be a real bummer.” I let my elbows rest on my crossed legs. Might as well get comfortable if this awkward conversation was going to continue.
“You’ll have to show me some tricks.” The girl took a seat next to me on the fountain.
The clones—twins I now realized from their identical features—stood clustered near the girl but didn’t sit.
“I’m pretty sure genetics has more to do with it than styling,” I said defensively. “Sorry I can’t help.”
“That’s okay.” The girl patted my leg in what I assumed was meant to be reassuring.
My body tensed again at the intrusion, but I didn’t say anything.
Under the radar. Under the radar. Under the damn radar, I chanted to myself.
“Oh my goodness, where are my manners?” the girl said.
I was thinking the same thing.
“My name is Aileen. Aileen O’Rourke.” Her eyes were looking at me expectantly.
I didn’t recognize the name, but her face made it seem like I should have. “Nice to meet you,” I said simply.
Aileen fi
dgeted at my apparent lack of appreciation of her name. “My family owns the biggest construction firm in all of New England,” she said through gritted teeth, keeping her sunny smile in place.
“Sorry, I just moved here from the West Coast.” I shrugged. “I don’t know much about the area.”
A tinkling laugh escaped from Aileen, and her friends joined her. She patted my leg again.
“No worries, you’ll learn pretty quickly,” she said. “This is Honore and Grace. Don’t try and tell them apart. I barely do.”
Another laugh escaped Aileen, but the laugh seemed a little more forced from the twins. They shared a look, and I had to bite my lip to mangle the smile creeping in.
“So,” Aileen said expectantly. “What’s your name?”
“Oh, right.” I sighed internally that I couldn’t escape sooner. “Noah Young.”
The triad’s eyes all widened simultaneously, and I leaned back a little from the impact.
“What?”
“Young, like Nathaniel Young of Young, Pruwitt, and Shaw?” Aileen gasped.
The color drained from my face. Of all the people with my common last name, how did she know my father right off the bat?
I cocked my head to the side to hide my surprise. “Who?” Were there no other famous Youngs in the Boston area? Maybe I was being too paranoid and showing my hand.
Aileen huffed, pulling up a picture from a quick search on her phone. She shoved the headshot into my face, and I stared into my father’s eyes for the first time in many, many years.
“He’s only, like, the youngest, most badass corporate lawyer in all of Boston. You’re not anybody if you can’t get him to represent you. He still visits on young alumni weekends.” A fangirl sigh escaped from Aileen’s half-daydream state as she took her phone back from under my nose.
“Wouldn’t he be too young to have a kid our age?” I deflected, trying my hardest to sound doubtful. “We were probably already walking when he graduated from here.”
Aileen frowned. Honore and Grace bent their heads together for a brief moment and nodded their agreement.
“I guess you’re right. It would have been quite scandalous if he had a daughter your age.” Aileen giggled. “Plus, you know, he’s…” Aileen’s hand bounced in the air, as if gesturing to my whole being.
My bronze skin and textured hair against his luminous skin and light eyes. How could we possibly be related?
“White?” I let a bark of a laugh escape.
The girls joined me in my laughter, although only one of ours was fake.
“I know, right?” Aileen said. “What was I thinking?”
“I’m just a nobody,” I assured Aileen. “No big, important connections here.”
“Hmmmmm.” She squinted as she surveyed me. “I’m not so sure of that. Not just anybody can walk in here, especially midyear. Are you sure you’re not related to anybody?”
“Nobody worth bragging about,” I said confidently. “Trust me on that.”
Aileen looped her arm through mine, and I blanched as she tugged me in close.
“Don’t you worry about a thing, Noah,” Aileen said. “I’ll make sure you’re a somebody around here. I have my ways.” Aileen gave me an assertive nod, and the twins mirrored her own confidence behind her.
I let out a nervous chuckle. “That’s okay. I’m more of a wallflower, behind-the-scenes kind of girl,” I admitted, trying to disengage from Aileen’s tightening grip.
“Nonsense! I can tell you’re one of a kind. We’ll have you ruling campus in no time.” Aileen gestured wildly with her arm.
Just then, a bell tolled, signaling the end of classes. Students trickled out from the buildings surrounding the square, and I kicked myself for not ducking away sooner.
“Just in time for free period! Perfect.” Aileen stood and brushed imaginary dirt off her tartan skirt. “I can introduce you to everyone before dinner.”
“That’s really not necessary.” I remained seated on the fountain’s ledge. The triad gave me a triple frown, and I scrambled to find a good enough excuse that didn’t directly insult them. All my favorite possibilities were varying levels of verbal and physical offense, and I had to discard them one after another after Adele’s voice echoed in my conscience.
“Oh, don’t be so shy!” Aileen crowed. “I promise I’ll make the best introductions. There’s people worth knowing around here, and then there’s everybody else.”
“I wonder where you fit in,” a raspy voice cut in.
Aileen’s sunny disposition dimmed, and the twins crossed their arms in tandem, sending out laser beams from their tiny, doll-like eyes.
“I hardly consider you someone worth knowing, Hag, unless it’s to know to avoid you,” Aileen said, her tone prickly.
Aileen’s big blonde head blocked my view of the aggressor, so I couldn’t see the source of the voice. The twins acted as another sort of shield, but the girl ducked easily through their defenses to stand directly in front of me, her eyes level with my seated gaze.
“Here you are,” the girl said to me. “Thought you might have tried escaping through the woods.”
I leaned back again, this time not because of close inappropriate physical contact like with Aileen, but because I needed a little more space to analyze the person who stood before me.
As pristine as Aileen and her twin minions were, that’s how disorderly the newcomer was. Where glossy, pin-straight blonde hair should have been, bright red and maroon pieces lay in haphazard chunks of varying lengths. The look could have been from a graphic novel or a high fashion magazine, but it was off-putting all the same. One of the maroon chunks lay across one eye, so the only one I could see was a vibrant green that looked almost like a fake contact. I was mesmerized.
“I’d run to the woods if I saw you coming, too,” Aileen hissed. “Could you not scare the new girl before she even gives the rest of us a shot?”
“She doesn’t look scared to me.” The girl’s green eye squinted in equal scrutiny. “At least not of me. Maybe of the three of you cyborgs, but not me.”
“You kind of look like a cyborg though,” I said to the girl without thinking. I bit the inside of my cheek again, trying to silence any more thoughts from strolling unpoliced out of my mouth.
She laughed, the unruly mass of hair fluttering with the movement and revealing a milky blue eye.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she said. The merriment on her face faltered a little when she looked over at Aileen. “What are you looking at?”
“Are you seriously asking me that question? Have you even looked at yourself in a mirror lately?” Aileen said with disgust.
“Yes, actually. It takes a lot of work to get these fabulous eyebrows.” The girl winked in my direction.
Aileen snorted. She must have been so disgusted, she’d run out of comebacks.
“Whatever,” Aileen said. She turned to me, ignoring the girl beside her. “Noah, once you’ve settled in, come by the quad. We always hang out there when we’re not in class. Or maybe we’ll see you at dinner. If she doesn’t scare you away first.”
“Thanks,” I said, not wanting to commit to anything.
The girl in front of me waggled her fingers in a taunting goodbye. “See you at dinner, Bestie!” she called after Aileen, causing the twins to shuffle closer behind their leader. “Don’t forget to save me a seat!”
The girl chuckled. “I can’t help myself. It’s just too fun,” she said, half to herself. She sighed before facing me again.
“Ah, sorry about that. Also, slight miscommunication on the timing of your tour. Hope you weren’t super inconvenienced.” She bent slightly to follow the triad out of sight. “I can’t believe they let the animals out of the zoo unattended.”
“It’s fine,” I said. “No lasting damage done. At least not by you.”
“Oh, you might be able to get away with murder with that bunch. Aileen’s already planned out her future wedding with you as her maid of honor. It�
�s all for the pictures, you know. She’ll keep you even if it kills her,” the girl said dismissively.
She caught me staring at her after a moment of silence. “What?”
“Sorry, what’s your name?” I said directly, realizing belatedly my phrasing was off.
“Margaret O’Brien, affectionately known around campus as Mags the Hag.” She offered me her hand. When I stood to receive it, her green eye bulged. “I really only use the Hag part for special occasions.”
“Noah,” I replied.
She nodded as she took me in from head to toe. “Naturally,” Mags said.
We both took a moment to openly stare at one another, until Mags broke out in a huge grin.
“I like you. You’re going to be great fun.” She marched off to the corner of the square.
I quickly fell into step beside her. “You think so? I guess so long as it’s not a tragedy, I can deal.” I shifted my bag to my hip.
“All the best comedies are,” Mags quipped back. “Especially ones set in high school. Ugh.”
“Yeah, not looking good so far,” I muttered darkly.
“Eh,” Mags said. “Still a little early to tell. How do you feel about food first and tour later?”
Our walk took us directly into the shadow of a large cathedral-like building. The setting sun was playing tricks on the stained glass windows, and I could see a steady stream of students heading toward the entrance like worker bees to a hive.
“Works for me,” I said.
“Plus,” she said, her hand coming up to feign an aside to her sole audience member, “you seem smart enough to read a map.”
I laughed.
“Something like that,” I said.
“Good,” Mags said. “I can’t do the tour without an immense amount of sarcasm and disdain anyway. It’s probably better I don’t ruin your first impression of campus with my commentary. You’ll learn to hate it in your own time.”
“Comforting,” I said.
“I do aim to be very nurturing in my delivery,” Mags said. “It’s a skill.”
The final archway between us and our destination loomed overhead, and I careened my head to check out the patchwork of stone and brick. Something about architecture and masonry really intrigued me. I could entertain myself for hours with old buildings. I had a feeling Windermere would be no different. The noise of a scuffle brought me back to the present.