And They Were Roommates(4)
“I just have a bad feeling all this will pile up,” I say. “And I’m worried I might not rank top five of my class.”
“Please, you’re the smartest person I know.”
The compliment only briefly warms my chest. Delilah could never understand the fear of losing a scholarship. Although both our parents went to Valentine, hers are doctors drowning in money. Mom was also an Excellence Scholar and now owns a bookshop that, although it’s a cornerstone of the Queens community, is drowning in debt—an anomaly when Valentine alumni get an unofficial fast pass to any Ivy they wish. But Mom wished for her dream instead. “My scholarship depends on it.”
“I mean, I get that. If I want to be able to run for the student council board this year, then I have to rank within the top fifteen of my own class.”
I nod, even though I barely take in what she says.
Delilah sighs, and it comes out a bit irritated and short. A piece of me wants to ask what’s going on, but she distracts me by continuing to talk. “I’m just trying to say that I hear you. About the pressure. I’d back out now if you don’t want this.”
“No,” I say, playing with Mom’s varsity Valentine ring on my finger. “I want it.”
Even more than that. When Grandma and Grandpa were alive, they would ramble about how proud they were of Mom to have scored this scholarship—and when she wasn’t around, how it was “wasted” on a tanking bookstore.
And then there’s Mom. At first, I applied without telling her, assuming the odds of being chosen as one of their Excellence Scholars were microscopically low, and that she would be crushed if I got her hopes up. Once they emailed me that my scholarship was still on the table after I deferred and came clean to her, though, she didn’t cheer like I expected. She only frowned, knowing full well that I would need to stay on the boys’ campus for reasons that might not thrill administration. She insisted there had to be other Ivy feeders in the region besides the one she went to—that I could apply elsewhere, to a place that wouldn’t pose as much risk.
But Valentine is where I realized I was a boy. It’s called out to me all my life, insisting I belong here. It had to be this campus. This academy. After four attempts at explaining this to Mom—alongside reminding her how this life-changing education pointed her toward her love of books and, ultimately, mine—she let go of enough worry to give a hesitant seal of approval.
Yet I’m already facing problems one day in. Exactly like Mom worried about.
“But look how terrified you are,” Delilah says.
“I’m not terrified.”
Delilah points at my hand. It’s shaking.
I drop my arm. “I’ve dreamed of studying here forever. Academics that’ll actually challenge me, and on the boys’ side of campus. I never thought I’d be able to…” I trail off, recalling the worst roommate I could’ve been assigned who might blow up this dream.
How do I keep Jasper Grimes silent? A bribe?
Bonging noises resonate through the courtyard. I startle and cover my ears.
Delilah rips my hands down. “Bro, relax, it’s the ten-minute warning bell till lights-out.”
I glance down the brick wall—cockblockade—where a bell tower sticks out of an otherwise unused church. I hadn’t noticed it in the dim sunset.
Instead of the bro handshake I faced in the residential hall, Delilah goes in for a basic hug. I’ve never been more thankful.
“If you start panicking or sobbing at any point, contact me,” she says. “Since I’m your emergency contact, my residential retainer can send me to the office to take the call.”
“I won’t sob.” I pause. “But thank you.”
Delilah disappears through the open cockblockade gate to the sister academy, and I head toward the residence hall. The sidewalks are crowded with families rushing their goodbyes, but I barely perceive them. Too much is on my mind.
Tonight, I have to sleep in the same room as another boy. One who kissed me and walked away like I was nothing.
My first kiss.
I shove my hands deep into my pockets as if that’ll punch the nerves out of me. The second Jasper sees me, he’ll have questions, and I won’t know how to answer any. I need to have a speech ready, and that bribe, but I don’t know what I’d offer.
I’ll just ask. He never had a problem taking whatever he wanted.
Chapter 3
THE TIME MACHINE
TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 3
I press an ear against the door to Room 503, listening for signs of life.
A clang here. A shove there. He’s back.
Where’s that speech, Charlie?
Yes, I’m the person you met at Valentine’s Shakespeare and Classics Summer Camp two years ago. Yes, we kissed by the lake. No, I’m not that person anymore, but also, I am. What would you like in order to stay silent?
That’ll do.
As I reach for the handle, my hands lock up. Do it. Just do it!
Adrenaline surges through me, and I yank back the handle. The door whips open and slams against the wall.
“Oops,” I mumble.
At the end of the room, a slender figure in the same plaid blazer and tie as me jolts. Although my uniform loosely hangs in all the wrong places, his cinches in all the right ones. He loses his grip on a glass object—a heart-shaped paperweight—and fumbles three times before catching it.