I put the book I picked up earlier down on the nearest table—I’ll come back for it when the librarian is here— Lia pushes the main door open and gestures for me to precede her. I wait while she turns off the lights, then locks the door. “The library is usually closed on Sunday nights, but I’m doing an independent study this semester, so Ms. Royce lets me work late sometimes.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—”
“No need to apologize, Grace.” She shoots me a vaguely exasperated look. “How were you supposed to know? I’m just telling you why I have to lock things back up.”
“Good point,” I admit, a little surprised at how nice she’s being.
She starts down the hallway. “So I’m assuming, since you aren’t at the party Macy organized for you, that your first full day at our illustrious school hasn’t been as smooth as your cousin hoped it’d be?”
She’s got that right, but I’m not going to admit it when that would sound like I’m throwing Macy under the bus. Especially since Macy isn’t the problem. Everything else is, but not her. “The party was good. I’ve just had a really long day. I needed a break for a few minutes.”
“I bet. Unless you’re coming from Vancouver or something, getting here is never easy.”
“Yeah, I’m definitely not from Vancouver.” I shiver a little as an unexpected wind whips through the hallway.
I glance around, looking for where it could be coming from, then get distracted as Lia raises her brows and says, “Alaska is a long way from California.”
“How did you know I’m from California?” Maybe that’s why everyone is staring at me—I must be wearing my not-from-here vibe like a parka.
“Foster must have mentioned it when he let us know you were coming,” she answers. “And I’ve got to say, San Diego is pretty much the worst possible place to move here from.”
“It’s the worst possible place to move anywhere from,” I agree. “But especially here.”
“No doubt.” She looks me up and down, then smirks. “So are you freezing in that dress?”
“Are you kidding? I’ve been freezing since I landed in Anchorage. Doesn’t matter what I wear—even before Macy talked me into putting on this thing.”
“Guess we better get you that tea, then.” She nods to the staircase that’s just come into view. “My room’s on the fourth floor, if that’s okay?”
“Oh, ours is, too. Mine and Macy’s, I mean.”
“Awesome.”
Lia keeps talking as we make our way to the stairs, pointing out different rooms she thinks I need to know—the chem lab, the study lounge, the snack shop. Part of me wants to pull out my phone and take notes—or, better yet, draw a map, since I’m hopeless with directions. Maybe if I can figure out something as simple as the layout of the castle, other things will fall into place, too. And then I can start to feel safe again—something I haven’t felt in a really long time.
We finally make it back to Lia’s room—she’s in what I’m assuming is the West hallway, judging by its location in relation to mine. I’m a little surprised when she stops in front of the one door on the hallway, maybe on the whole floor, that doesn’t have some kind of decoration on it.
My surprise must show, because she says, “It’s been a rough year. I just wasn’t up to decorating when I got back here.”
“That sucks. The rough-year part, I mean. Not the decorating part.”
“I knew what you meant.” She smiles sadly. “My boyfriend died several months ago, and everyone thinks I should be over it. But we were together a really long time. It’s not that easy to just let him go. As I’m sure you know.”
It’s been a month since my parents died, and I still feel like I’m in shock half the time. “No, it’s not.”
Like I wake up every morning and for a minute, just a minute, I don’t remember why I have that sinking feeling in my stomach.
I don’t remember that they’re gone and I’m never going to see them again.
I don’t remember that I’m alone.
And then it hits me all over again, and so does the grief.
Getting on that first plane yesterday morning was the hardest thing I’ve ever done—besides identifying them—and I think it’s because it made their deaths sink in just a little more.
Lia and I just kind of stand there in the middle of her dorm room for a second, two people who look fine on the outside but who are destroyed on the inside. We don’t talk, don’t say anything at all. Just stay where we are and absorb the fact that someone else hurts as much as we do.