“I think Chandra is going to do whatever she wants to do. But I wouldn’t sweat it. Unless you have something on your phone you don’t want them to see,” I say, letting my eyes linger on hers for a few seconds, just enough to catch the gulp in her throat and the small glint of panic. I know I’m the only person being targeted for snapping a druggie pic of Chandra. I can’t help but smirk knowing Ashley has something on her phone too.

“They’re starting the interviews now. They can’t tell if I delete something…can they?” she asks.

I shrug. How the hell do I know what they know how to do? Maybe she has nude photos. I don’t know. I can guarantee that’s not what they’re interested in uncovering. I could tell her that right now—allay her fears—but I don’t, because as much as I think Ashley’s a nice girl, I know she’d sell me out in a heartbeat just to get into that inner circle. I know, because I did a lot of selling out to get there too.

Ashley is clutching her phone at her side, her thumb rubbing nervously over the edge. I open my mouth to almost erase her anxiety…almost. Instead, I curve it into a smile before turning and stepping down the porch to the front walkway.

“Where are you going?” she asks. “Chandra’s going to wonder where you are.”

“I just have an errand to run. They won’t even know I left,” I say over my shoulder, my cool face quickly growing hotter, more worried with every step I take toward the road. When I glance back, Ashley’s gone inside.

I pick up my pace until I hit campus, turning down one of the more-narrow paths behind the literature building, and ducking around a corner where a few picnic tables are lined up. My nose is running from the chill outside, and the corners of my eyes are watering. I’m not crying, but I’m so shell-shocked my eyes can’t seem to find the power to blink.

What the fuck have I done?

These are the kinds of things sisters go to each other for—but I don’t have that luxury. My real sister wouldn’t answer my call, and my sorority sisters aren’t really interested in helping me. Honestly, at this point, I’d be willing to call my sister’s friend and roommate, Rowe. We aren’t very close, but she’s surprisingly a really good listener. She left campus, though—something about a family emergency.

“I am actually, really, totally, and completely—alone,” I whisper aloud, my chest constricting with a single laugh over the fact that I could have screamed those same words, and nobody would have heard me.

There’s a text on my phone—I see the small icon of red lips and know it’s Chandra. I swipe her message open.

You’re going to have to deal with this eventually.

Yeah, I probably am. But I’m not in the mood for it right now. I pick up my things and push off the bench, dusting the dirt from the back of my pants. I walk through the empty walkways of campus. Today was the final day of classes, and a lot of them were cancelled in lieu of studying time for finals. I notice a few people sitting along the edge of the main fountain, which is really more of a statue now that they’ve turned the water off in preparation for winter. Sometimes, it snows here.

I let my feet take over, shuffling slowly along the walk to the library door, and I welcome the rush of heat on my face when I step inside. The library is empty too. Spectacular.

My legs keep going until I reach the grouping of chairs and couches to the left. Dropping my bag at my feet, I let myself fall into one of the lounge chairs. It’s not the same one Houston sat in, but it’s close. Of all places, I came here. I pull my biology book out and flip through a few of the pages, not really needing to study anything at all. Most of my classes feel like repeats of my senior year of high school, and if I don’t have the parts of the cell memorized after two straight years of charts and diagrams, then I don’t deserve to get a diploma.

I toss the book on the table in front of me, and shut my eyes, bringing my fingertips to my temple and rubbing.

“No book throwing in the library, ma’am,” a voice says, startling me. I blink my lids open, and when I realize Houston is standing in front of me, I feel a strange sense of relief.

“What are you doing here?” I sound bitchy. I immediately regret how that came out, and I regret it more when I see him jump back and grimace at me. “Sorry. I’ve had…am about to have…a really bad day.”

“It seems to me if you can predict it’s coming, then you can probably prevent it,” he says, taking the seat across from me, kicking his feet up on the block table in front of us, and resting his backpack on top of his knees.