“Like what?” Anna asks. “Body piercings?”
“Piercings. Tattoos. It’s as if their sole purpose in life is to stand out.” If anything, I applaud him for being so daring. Maybe he’s a good match for Anna.
“Being the same as everyone else is boring,” Anna says, linking a goosebump-covered arm through mine. “Being different is exciting.”
It couldn’t be warmer than fifty-three degrees and she’s dressed for a bottomless brunch. I shrug off my favorite brown leather jacket and drape it over her bare shoulders.
She wraps it across her chest and sighs. “I love how warm this jacket is, but I despise everything else about it.”
“You’re welcome, Anna.” I don’t take her comment personally. She never wears the same thing twice or anything that isn’t a designer brand.
We stroll past grand brick buildings with wrought-iron gates, the quiet morning broken by a hawk’s sharp screech. John Harvard’s statue lacks the habitual group of tourists crowded at his bronze feet.
Anna throws her head toward the sky. “I’msonot ready for our midterm, which is the only reason I’m coming to this stupid lecture.”
“You’ll be fine,” I say. “We have a new guest lecturer today. He has a specialty in…”
My mind blanks. I scrunch my eyes shut and search through the medication-induced fog that’s inhabited my brain for the past seven months. I read through our lecture notes twice last night.Why can’t I remember?
“You okay?” Anna asks.
“Psychoneuroimmunology,” I finally cry. “Which studies the relationship between our emotional state and the immune and endocrine systems. Isn’t that interesting?”
Anna laughs. “No. Come on, Ella. You know it’s weird to study the lecture slidesbeforethe actual lecture, right?”
My hand finds its way to my throat, clutching the rose-gold, heart-shaped charm on my necklace. “This is the most prestigious psychology school in the state. I’m willing to bet half the class has read today’s slides.”
Anna wraps her arm around my shoulder. “Whatever gets you to sleep at night, nerd. That clever brain’s going to get us both through this degree.”
We arrive at our lecture hall and filter in among our peers. My chest tightens at the sea of heads filling the tiered amphitheater. We squeeze between two groups and sit, Anna still hounding me about the psychology ball in February.
A middle-aged man with round glasses appears at the front of the room. He strides toward the lectern and connects his laptop to the overhead screen. Conversations diminish to a low hum. “Good morning. My name is Professor McGregor, and I’ll be guest lecturing for the next two sessions.”
“Shh, Anna,” I whisper when she starts talking about ball gowns.
She arches a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Give me a break. He can’t hear me from all the way back here. Besides—”
I ignore Anna, absorbed in Professor McGregor’s introduction, but the moment he finishes each sentence, the words fall away like grains of sand from a dune.
Anna stops talking mid-sentence and smacks my arm. “Ella.” I jerk my arm away and sink lower into my chair. “Ella,” she repeats.
“What?” I whisper, focusing on the overhead screen.
Anna’s acrylic nails dig into my chin, and she forces my head toward a blond man sitting to the front left of the lecture hall. “Would you look at that fine specimen? He’s hotter than flambé.”
I yank my face from Anna’s grasp. “Stop pointing, Anna. I’m trying to listen.”
“But how’ve I never seen him before?” she asks without taking her eyes off him.
“Because you never come to class.” I stifle my grin behind my hand. I’m being unfair. The honest answer is because he isn’tinthis class. Unless this is his first time attending, which I doubt, given we’re months into the semester.
“Because you never come to class,” Anna says in a mimicking tone. “You’re so funny.”
“Which brings me to my subspecialty. Psychoneuroimmunology,” Professor McGregor says, and my attention snaps to the front of the room. “Has anyone heard of it before?” he asks, glancing around the lecture hall. “Any guesses as to what it might mean?”
Anna’s elbow nudges me, but I’m already sitting up inmy seat.Answer the question.As the course advances, only the top students will be selected for the psychology honors program and taking part in class discussions is the first step. My chest tightens.Put your hand up.And I almost do, before Silas’s mantra plays in my mind:Keep your head down and don’t draw attention to yourself.And my limbs turn to lead, my throat so tight each breath is strained. I can’t let boarding school repeat itself. I won’t become another target.
“Anyone?” Professor McGregor repeats.
