"Elowen." I open the door wider. Lila has that effect, her energy reaching its destination before she does.
"Beautiful name." She leans against the doorframe and peers around me at the suitcase on the bed. "First year?"
"Yes."
"Me too." Her dark eyes are warm, curious without being invasive. "I've got extra hangers if you need them, a fan if your room's stuffy, tea if you're a tea person…"
I chuckle; her enthusiasm is infectious. "Tea always." I pause. “Do you want to come in?”
"I thought you’d never ask." She grins, sidestepping around me. "I won't keep you. I just wanted to say hi and let you know I'm around if you need anything. You’re only the second student I’ve spoken to since I arrived."
For the last twelve months, there’s only been me and Mira, and I hadn’t realized how out of practice I am at making conversation. I feel like a bear emerging from hibernation and trying to remember how the world looked before winter set in.
"Did Ms. Hartley mention…" I begin.
She cuts me off when she spots the embroidered bag. "This is gorgeous, Elowen.” She drags her fingers across the stitching. “You should see the Michael Kors bag my mom made me bring. Sometimes, I wonder if she remembers I’m only eighteen.”
I smile. “This is kind of a family heirloom.” It feels weird talking about it to someone I only just met.
She pulls away as if scared to damage the bag. "Seriously though, I'm right next door. Don't be a stranger. Or do. I respect boundaries." She crosses the room and turns to face me at the door. “The health checks. Is that what you were going to say?”
I nod. “It makes it feel more real.”
“Real as in…?”
As in… before I came to Elderwood, they were names mentioned in all solemnity on the Elderwood website. The school held memorial services for them, the students were offered counselling, life went on. But now…
“As in… that could’ve been someone we knew.” It doesn’t begin to cover the uneasiness swimming around inside my tummy.
Lila inhales deeply. “Hard to believe it happened three times in the same school. In one year. Tragic. But we can’t let it ruin our experience, Elowen.”
“You’re right.” I told Mira I wasn’t anxious about it because I didn’t want her to worry.
I lied.
The room feels different now that it has embraced Lila’s presence. Like a peacock that lost its luster.
So, I take the key and Mira’s bag, step back outside, and follow the map.
The greenhouse waits.
And for the first time since I arrived, I know exactly where I'm going.
The greenhouse door is glass and wood, the handle warm even in the cool air.
I push it open.
The contrast is immediate. Outside, the early September afternoon is pleasant but cooling. Inside, retained warmth from the day's sun creates a different microclimate entirely. Heat spills out, damp and alive, smelling of soil and something else…
Deep breath. My heart performs a jumpy little dance when I pick up on smoky cedar and cold air, something sharp beneath it.
Alpha.
I freeze in the doorway, pulse racing, eyes scanning the abandoned tables covered in dust, the dried leaves and clumps of soil littering the floor, the shriveled hanging baskets.
He's sitting against the far wall, one knee drawn up, arm resting across it. Dark jeans, worn but well-kept. A charcoal henley with sleeves pushed up past his forearms, revealing tanned skin and what looks like ink along his inner left arm: a tattoo, though I can't make out the design from here.
No books. No tools. Just him, alone in the warmth, shoulders loose in a way that suggests he wasn't expecting company as he tosses a tennis ball from one hand to the other. He looks like a movie star, that’s my first thought. My second thought is that he doesn’t want to be disturbed.
