“I’d love to see you play sometime, Lily. I heard you studied with Elena Alderman.” She takes my papers from me and my fate is sealed. I nod, a little numb from my new expectations.

  “I did…well, a little. She gave me access to her piano, and sometimes she would help me through lessons. Mostly, though, I’m self-taught,” I admit. My smile is a crooked guilty one because I wrote about my lessons in my acceptance essay. Everybody lies a little on those things though, I’m sure.

  “I bet it’s an amazing piano to play. Elena only keeps the best.” Her mouth twitches a little, and her smile slips briefly. I have a feeling Elena’s involved with the inner workings of the school quite a bit, given the amount of money she donates. I wonder if she’s as gruff and abrasive as she is with Alice, and with me sometimes during our lessons. She is not an easy woman to please.

  “I doubt I’ll ever play a piano that sounds even close to that one,” I say.

  My advisor nods, her smile understanding. I think she and I have a lot in common. I don’t have any proof, and I’m not comfortable enough to have a real conversation, but maybe in my next visit with her.

  I shake her hand as I stand from my seat, and I catch the small signal in her eyes, a wink of sorts, that lets me know someone is on the other side of her door, waiting. I recognize the houndstooth coat fabric through the office window, and I replay everything both of us said about Elena in my head before I leave just to make sure there was nothing she could have heard that might cause trouble for Alice—or me.

  “Lily, dear.” Elena greets me with gloved hands, leaning into me on one side for a rehearsed hug. These are the things my mom used to call niceties. This is polite, and for show. I perform just as well as she does.

  “Hi. Henry didn’t mention you were coming. It’s nice to see you.” Even though I’m not looking at Ms. Manning over my shoulder, I feel our connection and I know we are both smiling inside. Elena intimidates the hell out of me, and I’m sure she does the same with my advisor, and the dean, and every teacher employed here. She probably scares the shit out of the construction foreman putting in the new parking garage at the south end of campus.

  “No, he didn’t know. I was planning to come tomorrow, but Alice mentioned that you weren’t coming home for the break, and I don’t know…I guess I just thought it didn’t seem right.”

  I puzzle my eyes on her.

  “Thanksgiving is a time for family, Lily. You should come home. Even if Alice is working. You can have dinner with us, and stay with us if you’d like. Please, I insist.” She pulls one glove from her hand, then the other, using the cloth to clean a smudge from her oversized sunglasses.

  “Oh…it’s just…we don’t have a car, so it would be me on the train, and it’s hard to lug a suitcase on my own, and Collin’s going to pick up extra shifts. I thought I’d get more practice time in…” I know that she isn’t hearing any of this, so I quit talking and wait for her to finish with her glasses and tuck them into her front coat pocket and square her shoulders with mine. When her palms land on my shoulders, I know I’ll be eating turkey and dressing at her house in two days.

  “I’ll bring you home. I already told Alice I would. So that’s settled. You don’t have to take a train, but we will have to leave today. You’ll need to be cleared for Wednesday’s classes…” She gazes over my shoulder, a slight lift to her chin, and I hear Ms. Manning draw in a deep breath.

  “She’ll need a guardian to sign her out.”

  “I should be on the approved sheet,” Elena answers. My eyes squint and I turn to my side, baffled. I never added her to my contacts list, so if she is on the list, it wasn’t because I put her there. I can’t imagine Alice did, though I doubt she’d protest, so it’s possible.

  Looking sideways, I catch the duel happening in my advisor’s glare. Elena isn’t on my list, but she’ll be there the moment we leave—when Ms. Manning writes her name on the list.

  “Very well,” Elena says. I’ve come to learn this is her way of closing a deal. Arguments don’t move beyond this point, and her way is the way from this point forward. I turn back to look her in the eyes, and her tight lips stretch into a victorious smile. “I need to wait for Henry’s practice to finish. We’ll leave at noon sharp. See you at the front drive.”

  I nod slowly, then curtsy before I leave, holding the bottom of my dirty sweater out as if it’s a skirt. I catch the chortle sound escape Ms. Manning, and I look down to hide my own snicker. Before I regret mocking the woman who has probably funded my entire education, I slip past her and slide both of my arms through my backpack straps as I rush down the hallway to the front door.

  My inner voice reminds me that my dorm room is to the right, but my feet carry me past it and veer left, toward the boat house and the shoreline, along the line of trees that hide the stands and pier from my window’s view. If those trees weren’t here, I would be able to watch Henry row. Not that I’m watching Henry anymore. Only…here I am, marching along the wooden walkway and over the floating bridge to the place where the boats are stored each night.

  Henry is in the back. There are eight boys on our team, but he’s the only one with blond hair. He’s the only one with curls that blow in the wind and shoulders that span the width of the wooden shell.

  I’ve always wanted to watch them from down here. The rhythm of the oars along the water is perfect, in sync with the song I put in my head to match. Henry is the only member of the crew team I know, but that’s mostly my fault. I don’t venture far outside my circle. That’s something I should aim for, I guess.

  They sweep the water as their forms grow larger and larger the closer they get to me. It’s only a few minutes past ten in the morning, and Elena said noon, so I’m sure there will be several more trips up and down the water. I’ll only stay for this one. And though my legs itch to hike back up to the trees before Henry can see me, I stay. I remain in this very spot until the entire team passes by me, cutting through the shimmering water top with a quiet line marked by dip after dip of their oars.

  Henry’s arms flex and release, his skin pink from the effort and the sun, and his gaze is fixed on the back of the head in front of him. I note that boy for just a moment, black hair cut short and eyes that are practically the color of ice. He’s handsome, and he’s Henry’s teammate. His stare isn’t as disciplined as Henry’s, and as they push away from me with one more thrust, this guy glances my direction; I lift my palm just enough to signal that I notice him. His lip tugs up on one side, and his eyes stay on me for the next hundred yards, until he’s so far I can’t tell if he’s watching me or not.

  I leave with the thought that he was looking. And Henry, he looked too. He saw his friend watching me, and he hates it—just a little. This…this is how I will survive an hour-long drive back to his home with Elena. This is how I will choke down Thanksgiving and knowing that he’ll be spending spare moments on his phone with Ava. This will be the rest of my year, and maybe…maybe I’ll have him introduce me to dark hair and ice eyes. This is how I woke up today—confident. A heartbreaker.

  I don’t stop on my way to my room, and I pile in a few sets of clothes to one of the suitcases that Collin gave me when I moved in. Nicki shows up while I’m mid-pack, and after I explain to her my hijacked Thanksgiving plans, she takes half of my outfits out of my suitcase and replaces them with a few of hers.

  “I’m not really…goth.” I wince because I know she doesn’t like me to label her, but her clothing is so dark and her mood…hell, it matches. I love her for it, but it isn’t me.

  “I know you’re not, but think about it. How funny will it be when they expect you to come down for dinner and you’re wearing this.” She holds up a black, holey sweater that goes over a gray dress and black leggings. She rolls it all together and tucks it into the corner of my suitcase then reaches under her bed to pull out one of her boxes of boots. She pulls out the black combat boots that lace up to her knees and throws those in next.

  I laugh out loud.

  “I definitely can’t wear those!” I pick one up and hold it out in front of me. The heel is so heavy.

  Nicki rips it from my grasp and puts it back in my suitcase.

  “For one night? Yes…you can. Trust me, Lily. There’s a reason people don’t fuck with me. And sometimes you have to dress like a freak to get your point across.” She levels me with her dark, smoky eyes.

  “You aren’t a freak.” My head falls to one side.

  “I know. But I’m good with who I am. I’m badass. And if I don’t want to go to Thanksgiving at someone’s house, I have the balls to tell them.” She crosses her arms and waits for the response she knows isn’t coming.

  I let out a heavy breath and stare at the black boots, picturing them on my pale legs.

  “We’ll see,” I say, adding in a plain T-shirt and jeans back to my options. My roommate breathes out with disapproval and flops on her bed, flipping through gossip stories and posts on her phone while I finish packing.

  I lay my pillow on top of everything and give my side of our closet one more pass to see if I’ve missed anything. The only things that are really left are parts of the school uniform and the dress. My eyes have gotten used to the dress Henry bought me, the tags still on the back. If I had the guts to return it without the receipt and take the money, I would have done that a long time ago. Or maybe I wouldn’t have. Maybe I like keeping this reminder of Henry’s kindness, his safe-wild side—the part of him I like.

  “What is that?”

  I can’t tell if Nicki’s tone is awed or ill. I pull the skirt out to show off the fabric. I loved the colors at first, but the more I looked at this dress after it became mine, the more I loved its story. It’s a painting—a famous one of flowers swirled into faces. I can only tell when I hold the material out wide.

  “I’ve actually never even tried it on,” I admit with a short laugh. Wearing it felt silly. I’ve never had a reason.

  “Well, I think it goes in the suitcase,” Nicki says, nodding her head in the direction of my bag.

  I grimace.

  “I don’t know.” I look back at the dress, pulling the hanger free and holding it up in front of my body. “It’s not really a winter dress…”

  “Won’t matter because you’ll be eating inside.” She offers up a quick argument.

  I turn and give her a sideways glance.

  “What about the combat boots and black, moody shit you said would scare them?” My tight lips defy her to go against her own style.

  “Fuck the boots. You wear that. That’s very you, but it’s also…not.”

  “Henry bought it for me,” I admit.

  Her smile spreads over a long breath.

  “Then you definitely wear that.”

  I roll my eyes and turn to look at the dress over my body, holding it from hip to hip and tucking the top under my chin. I look to the side at the bottom of her boots sticking out under my pillow.

  “Maybe I bring both,” I say.

  She stands and pulls her boots from my bag, returning them to their box.

  “You’ll chicken out on both, and then you’ll just be in a damn sweater and Vans or something with jeans. Perfectly back-to-school catalogue.”

  I frown a little, but she’s right. I like plain. I don’t even really like it but I do plain. Plain is easy, and it comes with zero attention. It keeps me invisible.

  Before I can overthink things, Nicki yanks the dress from my hand and lifts my pillow, folding the dress in half and layering the pillow back on top. She zips the lid of my suitcase and holds her opposite palm out toward me like a point guard on defense.

  “I don’t have any nice shoes,” I add.

  “Wear those,” she motions down to my feet. “But dump the socks.”

  “Ugh, I hate sweaty feet,” I protest.

  “Your socks are babyish.”

  I flash an open mouth and wide eyes. She’s getting personal now, and that…that was mean.

  Lifting my foot to the side, I look at my white Vans and blue sport socks, a thin pink stripe along the edge, and well…shit. She’s right. My socks are either Mom socks or meant for a third-grader in PE.

  “Fine. No socks,” I say, taking the ones I’m wearing off now.

  Before I can put them in my laundry bag, Nicki grabs them and walks them to the trash.

  “I’m clearing out the rest after you leave.”

  I shake my head at her with wide arms and open palms. She waves me away and lies back down on her bed, diving right back into the posts about famous people breaking up and the stabbing down the street from her old neighborhood.

  With my roommate off my back for a moment, I unzip my bag and lift my pillow just enough to get a glimpse of the dress. I pinch the material between my fingers and rub it remembering how I imagined the gauzy skirt swaying just above my knees. I pray it fits nearly as well as I imagine it will in my head.

  The next hour passes slowly, and I cheat on my window denials, looking out every few minutes to see if the crew team is done early.

  “I’ll bring back my binoculars so you can stalk the right way.” I look over my shoulder and she’s not even looking at me while she pokes fun.

  “I’m not a stalker,” I retort.

  “Uh huh,” she says, glancing up to meet my stare as she points her finger exaggeratingly and swipes down her phone to the next story.

  “I wouldn’t be able to see through the trees anyway,” I admit, which makes her body shake with a quiet laugh. I join her and turn back to the window for a few more minutes before deciding it’s close enough to noon for me to walk down to the front.

  I stop by Anya’s room on my way out and hug her, wishing her a happy Thanksgiving. Almost everyone else is out at classes or studying for final projects or presentations. I’ll be missing one in my English class that I’ll have to give when I return. I wasn’t quite ready anyhow, so maybe there’s a silver lining to my Thanksgiving plans after all.

  Silver. Just like the flecks that sparkle in Ava’s sweater. Her arms swing side to side while she practically twirls next to Elena. There is no dress that will be able to get me through a holiday break with Henry and his girlfriend—his stunningly gorgeous girlfriend who, I swear, walked right off of the pages of a princess storybook. Her hair is swirls of mocha, and her skin is rich and perfectly smooth with pink cheeks, matted red lips, and lashes that seem so long I don’t know how they avoid tangling. The taste of bile coats my mouth and tongue as I expect the worst when I step up to them at the side of Elena’s car. Her driver gets out and takes my bag, which I hold onto not quite ready to commit. I let go after an awkward exchange with him when he looks to Elena to force me to relent.

  “He’ll put it in the back for you, Lily.”

  I give up and answer with “Of course.” She’s already back into her conversation with the perky brunette who’s covered in glitter from her holiday sweater, though.

  I feign interest, and for the four or five minutes it’s just the three of us, I’ve learned that Ava’s family owns racehorses. Stables full of them. Elena once owned a few horses of her own, but she never had time to ride them. I bite my tongue when I nearly ask what she’s so busy with, but I’m less successful keeping in my own horse story.

  “My dad rode a horse in the Veterans Day parade once, and it got spooked and took off down Michigan Avenue. The only way he could get it to stop was by taking it inside Nordstrom’s. It liked listening to the guy who played the piano.” The laughter I expect doesn’t come, and instead the two of them stare at me blankly while I choke down my own giggles at the memory. It’s a fond one, and I’m sure my dad exaggerated parts of it. He always did that. Now I regret sharing it with people who aren’t worthy. I would have been better off making up a story about shoveling the horse crap to pay for our mortgage. That would have gotten sympathy, and they would have believed it.

  “Sorry, we ran late,” Henry’s voice sweeps over my shoulder, buzzing my skin like a feather. I’m surprisingly stable on my feet. Ava is waiting here. I expected him to show up soon, because why not? I’m over the crush—so I’ve told myself. Naturally, there must be a test to make sure I’m being real.

  “It’s all right. I’ve let Alice know. She’s coordinating with the caterer for me.” Elena’s glossed lips tighten into a smile that she gives me. “Alice can’t wait to see you.”

  I nod and move toward the car, letting myself into the back seat and blowing off the driver who frantically tries to beat me to it. “I’m sure she can’t,” I mumble under my breath.

  As I assumed, Ava follows me into the car, taking the seat right next to me and Henry sits across from us by Elena. We all buckle up and I instantly draw my feet in under the seat and fold my arms, trying to make myself smaller. Ava’s sweater is sticking to mine, and I can already see droplets of glitter on my frayed yarn. I breathe in long and slow through my nose, a technique I learned about at my old school, where we didn’t have classes like theology and art history, but we did take practical things like how to render first aid and how to keep our stress in check.

  “Lily, how are you enjoying your first semester?” I seize at Elena’s question. I don’t really want to share in front of Ava…or Henry, really, since he hasn’t been very involved in my life lately.

  “It’s good.” I lift my shoulder against Ava’s glitter and shift so we’re no longer touching. Elena holds my gaze for a few long seconds, waiting for me to say more. I don’t want to. And I wish I were wearing Nicki’s boots right now for strength because waiting out her probing eyes is hard.

  “Well,” she turns to look at Henry with unamused laughter. “You’ve been accepted to the best preparatory high school in the Midwest and your only reaction to it is what most people rate movie sequels.”

  “I don’t know, I kinda think Terminator Two, Judgment Day is rather exceptional.” I shrug as if this were a normal debate, and I immediately wonder if my roommate sent me off with her super powers or somehow is inhabiting my body to give me her snark and quick wit.

  I glance to Henry, and his eyes meet mine for a brief smile that he masks with the side of his fist as he adjusts his posture and turns to the window. I wait until I see the corners of his mouth dimple his cheeks and his eyes flit to me one last time before I look out the window myself.