I smile at him as I pass, finally about to see him around the box. He’s carrying things on hangers. Bedding was our first trip, and my books and laptop will be last. We came in a cab, so the front desk let us load everything near the mailroom so we could make trips.

  “At least I’m not one of those girls with a lot of shoes,” I say, turning back into the hallway in time to trip over what felt like a tall set of boots.

  My box flies from my hands, flipping end over end but somehow remaining intact despite the weak tape holding the seams together.

  “Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” A short girl with braces and long, dark, braided hair twisted down her back rushes to help me up from the floor.

  “It’s okay,” I say, holding in the swear I almost let slip when the carpet burned away the skin on my elbow. It stings, so I avoid touching it right now.

  “My brother left those out here. I asked him to bring them in, but he was trying to prove a point—something about not working for me. Anyhow, I wasn’t going to give in either, and my mom will be here soon and I thought I’d drop a little hint about how he’s not really helping me just so I could get him in trouble, but now that I’ve sabotaged you…I see how immature that all was. Here…” She grabs the thick pair of blue rubber and tan leather snow boots and flings them into the door across from us.

  “That’s right! You get your own damn boots!” a cracking voice shouts from deep within the room.

  The girl rolls her eyes then holds out her hand for me to take.

  “I’m Anya. I’m here from Boston. And I cannot wait to be away from my brother!” She yells that last part over her shoulder.

  “Same here!” her brother shouts back from inside.

  I laugh at their banter as Anya shakes her head in apology. I’m an only child. My parents never even talked about the idea of it being otherwise, but I used to pretend that I had a sibling. Truth be told, I had an imaginary brother-slash-sometimes-sister far longer than a maturing girl should. I liked the way people treated me when I shared stories about things my sibling did—like trips we took or holiday meals. None of it was real, except in my head.

  “I’m Lily. I live on the other side of the city, so…not quite Boston. But…with rush hour it feels like it.” I shake Anya’s hand and instantly think of Henry. I wonder where he is? I wonder if he’d approve of this handshake? I’m giving him too much space in my head.

  “Which room are you?” Anya asks.

  “Six eleven,” Collin shouts in a grunt. He’s been standing, patiently waiting while my things slowly slip from his grasp a piece of clothing at a time.

  “Yes! Sorry Collin!” I pick up my box and smile to my new friend—a prep school friend.

  “Well, this is me. Stop in later, when you’re done,” she says, pointing her thumb over her shoulder.

  I nod and smile.

  “I will!”

  Collin collapses with the heap of clothing on my bed, and I drop the box just inside the door and lean against the wall as I wipe the sweat from my brow.

  “It’s seventy degrees out, but it feels like ninety,” I say.

  “It’s because it’s still humid.” Collin rolls and grunts as he tries to free himself from my pile of clothes. It makes me laugh, and for the first time since we accepted the Satis House offer, I feel a tinge of sadness—I’m going to miss him and Alice. Mostly him.

  “You start putting things away. I’ll run down and grab your computer and book bag. I’ll be right back,” he says, shaking out his fatigued arms.

  With exaggeration, he high-steps a jog in place, bringing his knees up to his chest as he salutes me. His enthusiasm carries him right into the chest of a man whose body fills the entire frame of our door. Collin literally bounces off the man’s chest with an “Oof!”

  My eyes widen, growing bigger when I take in the truly massive man with arms busting through his T-shirt sleeves. He looks like one of those famous wrestlers, or…like an action figure.

  “Dude…I’m so sorry,” Collin says, shaking his head, clearly a little rattled. He holds his hand out to introduce himself, but the man only gives him a wry grin and walks the rest of the way into the room.

  “That your bed?” He points to my pile of clothes, and I look back at it to confirm what he’s talking about as if I suddenly don’t know where I am.

  “Yeah…” I stammer for a few seconds, half worried that some mix-up has made this forty-something-year-old my roommate.

  “Cool. Hey, Nick…looks like you’re here,” he says, pressing his enormous hand on the center of the opposite mattress.

  My eyes scan in a circle, searching for “Nick;” they land on a girl with jet-black, straight hair. It’s shaved on her right side and hangs down to her shoulder on the left. Her eyes are practically purple, clearly accented with contact lenses, and a diamond stud glimmers on the side of her nose.

  “That’s fine. Okay, I’m good, Dad. You can go now,” the girl says abruptly. I can almost see the resemblance underneath a layer of pale makeup and thick black liner under her eyes. Despite being so opposite, there’s something oddly similar between her and this man.

  “What? You don’t want me to hang out?” The man’s voice booms, the sound growing as he laughs.

  “Uhh…no,” the girl says, sitting on her bed next to an overstuffed surplus duffle. She pulls the strap from her shoulder and her dad sets the bag he was carrying down on the floor next to her.

  Rubbing his hands together he turns to face me, giving me an intimidating grin. There’s a credit-card-sized gap between his front teeth.

  “I’m Raj. This attitude behind me here is Nicki.” His daughter sighs heavily, and I’m not sure if I should laugh at his joke or defend my new roommate. I pause with my mouth gaped open and Collin steps in to make things more humiliating.

  “I’m Collin,” he says, taking Raj’s hand from the side. The giant man shakes his head and quirks a brow up to his hairline. “This lovely flower here is not my daughter…err…not that I’m some creepy old boyfriend. No…no, she’s like my daughter. Uhm, basically, her parents died, and my wife was her mom’s cousin, and we were the only close family, so…ta-da!”

  Ta-da. Fucking ta-da.

  “I’m Lily,” I break in, trying to save this massively awful first impression.

  I peel Collin’s hand free from Raj’s grip and replace it with my own, trying to make my fingers as firm as possible. Raj has enough awareness to know he could crush me, so his palm relaxes as we shake. His eyes shift from Collin to me, and the confused wrinkle dissipates and his strange smile returns.

  “Nice to meet you, Lily. I notice you don’t have a nose ring…”

  “Dad!” Nicki growls from behind him.

  Her dad drops my hand just as Nicki starts to push him in the bicep.

  “You promised that you wouldn’t do this—make things weird. You’re making things weird. Now go. I’ll see you in two weeks. You’re an hour away…” Her dad stumbles playfully toward the door.

  “Fine, fine,” he says, hugging Nicki and swallowing her whole with his arms.

  “I should take off too. I’ll just run and grab the last of your things then I’ll get on,” Collin pipes up, standing and patting me on the back like I’m a puppy he’s training with treats and affection.

  “Right…well…Raj!” Collin says.

  I cringe behind his back.

  “You said an hour away. Are you heading south by chance?” Collin asks as the two of them head back into the hallway.

  “Do you live south?” Raj asks.

  “I do! Yes…I was thinking we could share a cab, unless you have a car and maybe I could…”

  “I live up north,” Raj interjects.

  I hear Collin’s sad, “Oh,” squeak out as our door falls closed behind them. My new roommate and I sit in utter stillness for several long seconds, our hands mutually planted on our foreheads and our mouths hung open and unsure of how to put words to the adults who are somehow responsible for us.

  “I think the important takeaway for you to know about me based on that is Collin and I share zero blood relation. Like…none. Our genes do not cross at all,” I say, slicing the air in both directions with my hand gestures.

  Nicki’s shoulders shake with laughter and she cups her mouth. The smile on her wide lips shows through the sides, and I instantly envy her deep-maroon lipstick.

  “He called you a lovely flower,” she says through hard laughter.

  “He did,” I nod.

  “And…ta-da!” She snort-laughs which only makes her laugh harder. I join in, mortified but also grateful for this icebreaker that I’m certain is not what Collin intended.

  “I don’t know what to say. He’s literally never acted that way. I think maybe he had a man crush on your dad,” I say.

  Nicki chuckles and rolls her eyes.

  “He gets that a lot. He’s a former pro-football player. It’s usually the moms that get all stupid around him. Your dad might be the first man crush.” She catches herself, and I recognize it in her eyes.

  She called him my dad.

  “It’s okay,” I wave off before she can apologize.

  Collin brings the last of my things up and leaves with his dignity the second time. I move to my clothes pile and begin sorting and making sense of my mess. A second or two later, Nicki does the same, dumping her bag on her bed—almost everything she owns is black or gray; my bed is vibrant with color. Our only crossover is the plaid skirt, deep-blue cardigan sweater and white-collared shirt. Where I have three sets of everything, Nicki has one. I sense her plan to rebel on the encouraged uniform.

  On the surface, she and I look like complete opposites. Yet, as the day moves on, more little things reveal themselves linking all the ways we’re the same. Like me, Nicki is here on a scholarship. My emphasis is performing arts, and so is hers—she is here for technical theater and set design. She’s an only child, and despite her dad’s lie, she grew up about ten miles away from where Collin and Alice live—though in a much nicer neighborhood. She likes all types of music, and scary movies, and cotton candy, and her favorite pizza topping is mushrooms.

  We only get into my parents for a short conversation, and she’s quick to understand when I’m done sharing. In the span of a single morning, I’ve already made more friends than I ever did at Alice and Collin’s, and I already feel closer to Nicki than any friend I’ve ever had before.

  Almost.

  As if some supernatural force was alerting him that nearly an entire day was about to pass where he wasn’t my sole obsession, Henry taps out “Shave and a Haircut” on our door. He opens it wide before either of us call for him to come in, and his blunt entry puts Nicki off in an instant.

  “Nice room!” Already dressed in his uniform, his wrist glimmers with shiny platinum cufflinks, the crisp white of his shirt popping from the deep-maroon and blue of his vest.

  “Hey, Abercrombie ad…you weren’t invited!” Nicki stands and folds her arms over her chest, and Henry’s eyes fall to her heavy-duty boot-clad feet.

  “Right…well, I’m not a vampire, so that rule is sorta…” he winks and tilts his head to the side. His charm is not going to help here. I can tell. And I am oddly relieved that Nicki isn’t interested.

  Before she can launch at him, I step between them and flatten my hand on Henry’s chest. I can feel every mile he rowed over the summer in his chest muscles underneath his uniform.

  “Sorry Nicki…this is my friend. This is Henry. And he’s sorta used to getting his way,” I say, twisting my lips and scowling at him.

  He holds his palms out and shrugs an apology.

  “So he’s a privileged asshole?” Nicki asks, glancing at me. She’s joking, but she’s also…sorta…not.

  “He’s not an asshole,” I sigh out. Henry’s mouth curls into a smug grin, satisfied with my stamp of approval. He falls into my bed and pulls my pillow free to tuck it behind his head as he crosses his ankles. His body barely fits.

  “Hmmm, that’s up for debate,” Nicki says.

  Her gaze drags from Henry’s body to me, and when our eyes meet I try to apologize for him with my expression. She shakes her head slightly, just enough that I see it. “I’m going to run down to the common and grab some snacks. Want anything?”

  “I’m okay,” I smile, wondering if she thinks Henry and I are a thing and she’s trying to give us privacy. I decide in a split second that I don’t care if she has it wrong.

  “I’ll take some chips,” Henry says as my roommate heads out our door. She flips him off over her shoulder and the door slams closed behind her.

  “She’s charming,” he says with a tight smile. I sit on Nicki’s bed across from him even though my entire nervous system is firing alarms that I am missing an opportunity to be close to him.

  “She’s actually really cool. And you should probably knock. I could have been changing,” I say.

  Henry wiggles his brows and sits up, tossing my pillow to the corner behind him.

  “You’re such a perv,” I say.

  “Yeah, yeah,” he says, standing. He stretches his arms up high and the tips of his fingers skim our low ceiling. This building is nearly a hundred years old, and I guess less space is easier to heat, so the rooms are all tight and small.

  Right now, alone with Henry, behind a closed door—it’s suffocating.

  “So…did you meet your roommate?” My legs swing nervously against Nicki’s mattress. Henry lets his hands fall back down to his sides like strands of spaghetti and his shoulders slump.

  “He’s such a nerd,” he says, leaning against the edge of my small desk.

  “There’s nothing wrong with nerds. I’m a nerd,” I protest, defending this stranger. I don’t like it when Henry judges people.

  “Yeah, well then you live with him.” He laughs at his own joke and I just crook my neck and glare at him sideways. “Sorry…you’re right. Honestly, the guy will probably help me out a ton. He’s an engineering focus too, and I have a feeling his math is a lot stronger than mine. I just don’t know how cool he’ll be…ya know.”

  I bunch my face and squint my eyes. I don’t know. I maintain my puzzled expression until he explains.

  “Like sneaking out and stuff, or having girls in our room after hours, or drinking. Just…stuff.” He shrugs as if his version of our freshman year is what’s normal and not the other way around.

  “Maybe he’ll keep you out of trouble,” I say, standing and ushering him away from my desk. He’s knocked over a few things already just by sitting on the edge. I right my pen cup and rearrange my glass bears that I’ve had since I was four. I can feel Henry staring at me, so I turn slowly to catch him.

  “What?” I ask.

  “You’re strange. I think you might be OCD. Aren’t those the people who have to turn lights off and on and stuff?”

  I huff but go back to my desk, tucking away my notepads and leaving everything tidy. I pull the comforter even from where Henry left it askew. So what if I’m a little OCD. My mom always told me there was nothing wrong with being neat.

  “I was thinking of looking around a little before practice. That’s why I came by actually. I know you took the tour last week, but I thought maybe I could give you the unofficial tour.” Henry smirks, which makes me nervous.

  “The dark underbelly of Satis House?” I joke.

  “Oh…dark indeed,” he says, rubbing his hands together like he’s evil. He gives in quickly, though. “Nah, nothing like that. Just shortcuts, the best places to take your lunch, the door that gets you on the roof—shit like that.”

  “You can get on the roof?” The thought excites me. I’ve always envied the people that live downtown in the high rises and can look out over the lake. The water goes on forever. I’d love to wake up to see it every morning, and I’m willing to climb out on a roof.

  “Yeah, come on. Grab your sweatshirt though. It’s windy up there.” I open the closet door to find my soft blue sweatshirt, and when I grab it, Henry notices his old crew shirt hanging just behind it.

  “Hey, I was wondering where that thing was…” He says, reaching for it and pulling it free from the hanger. My stomach sinks. I love that shirt and the childish memory attached to it of me and Henry sliding around wooden floors.

  “Yeah…I’ve been meaning to give it back, but I just always forget,” I lie.

  Henry’s mouth hangs open, his tongue lodged between his teeth. He knows the truth, but for once he’s considering not embarrassing me. His lips curl into a soft smile while he bites the tip of his tongue, eventually nodding and flitting his eyes to mine. He drapes the shirt against my shoulders and arms as if he’s gauging how I look in it.

  “Yeah, you know what? You keep it. I’ve got others, and this one’s your only Satis House shirt. Besides, I like that you’re our fan.” He winks and my lips tingle trying to contain my grin. I know he made that up to spare me, and the simple fact that he probably senses I wanted to keep the shirt just because it was his gives me that good kind of blush—the one that warms my chest and fills me with butterflies.

  “Thanks,” I say, deciding to wear the long-sleeved shirt over my plain gray T-shirt. I pull it over my head and push my arms through the sleeves then pat my hand against the emblem on the front. “And I’m probably the only crew-team fan in existence,” I laugh out.

  Henry shakes his head with a smug grin.

  “Nope. We’ve got a lot of hot moms who support us.” He folds his arms proudly and I smack his arm playfully. Every time we act like this together, I remember the day in the car—the trip to the mall where we walked hand-in-hand. The best things with Henry seem to only happen once. The house where we skated around the floors sold a week after we broke in.

  Henry wasn’t joking about the wind on the roof. He took me to the newest building that houses most of the science and fitness classes as well as the gym. A small door between the girls’ and boys’ locker-room doors hides a stairwell that climbs four stories up. It comes out on a flat roof that faces northeast with nothing tall in front of it. The view is breathtaking.