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She shrugged. “Being born?”

Haven’s expression fell as she blinked a few times, those words striking her hard. She certainly could relate. “You really feel that way?”

“Sometimes,” Kelsey replied. “I’ve always had a strained relationship with my parents. My dad’s never here in New York and my mom, well . . . if I’m not on the bottom of a wine bottle, she’s not interested.”

“That’s, uh . . .”

“Pathetic?” Kelsey laughed. “I know it is. And first strike was actually probably when I almost failed graduating from high school. I was boy crazy and skipped too much. That’s over with, though. I’m committed now. I don’t have time for a boyfriend.”

The two of them stepped inside the building on 23rd Avenue, following the signs to the busy registrar’s office to have their student IDs made. Haven stared at hers when it was finished, ignoring the wrong name and instead focusing on the fact that her picture was prominently displayed on a badge granting her admission.

For the first time in her life, she was a student at a school.

The afternoon was chaotic as she went from building to building, meeting the administration and other students. Overwhelmed, Haven’s palms sweated and heart raced as they showed her the studios and enrolled her in classes, explaining the requirements as they took her around to the various galleries. Mandatory volunteer hours, optional summer sessions, semi-annual galas, and monthly counseling sessions . . . her anxiety skyrocketed, but it seemed to melt away the moment she stepped into the school’s library.

Tall stacks of books surrounded her, towering above her, welcoming her in to their familiar embrace. It reminded her of life in Durante, a time and place she had tried not to dwell on during the weeks as she settled into New York. Her life was starting anew—new people, new places, new things, new chances—but the old seemed to still have a strong grasp on her heart, squeezing and constricting, forcing her to hold back, longing and yearning for the love she had left behind, instead of looking ahead.

She lost Kelsey somewhere in the bustle of the day and ran into her again hours later as the sun was setting, the long day coming to an end. Kelsey stood in the lobby of the fine arts building next to a guy with spiky blond hair, her hand pressed against his chest, her face lit up with intense fascination.

They separated after a moment, the guy jogging past Haven and out the door. Kelsey stood there, silently fidgeting as she bit down on her bottom lip, but she let out a squeal when she spotted Haven. “My God, did you see him? Wasn’t he gorgeous?”

“Uh, sure,” Haven said, glancing out the massive glass windows at the boy standing on the sidewalk with a group of friends. “Who is he?”

“His name’s Peter something-or-other. He’s a senior! He asked me for my number, so of course I gave it to him. God! Do you think he’ll call? I hope he calls.”

Haven looked at her incredulously. “I thought you didn’t have time for a boyfriend.”

“I don’t,” she said, waving her off with a laugh. “I can date, though. No harm in that. Besides, a girl has to have some kind of fun, right?”

Rhetorical question, but Haven shrugged in response anyway.

“What about you?” Kelsey asked as the two of them headed out on their way back home. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

The innocent question, asked offhandedly, was like a sucker punch to Haven’s chest. It was the first time someone had asked her that. “Not anymore. I did, but . . . not anymore.”

Kelsey’s elated expression dimmed. “Ah, bad breakup?”

“You could say that.”

Kelsey shook her head. “You’re better off without him, whoever he is.”

“Carmine,” Haven mumbled. Something about saying his name aloud, acknowledging he existed . . . that they had once existed together . . . loosened the tight knot in her gut just a bit.

“Breakups suck,” Kelsey said. “I’ve never really been a one man kind of woman because of that. My dad always says ‘don’t put all your eggs in one basket, honey,’ so I figure, why put all my hope in one man? I like to play the field a little, see what’s out there.”

* * *

Haven would come to learn during the next few weeks, as she got to know Kelsey more, exactly how much of an understatement that was.

Every few days there was a new love interest, boy after boy coming in and out of the apartment above hers. Peter, Franco, Josh, Jason . . . Haven stopped keeping track eventually. She would hear them tromping along upstairs behind Kelsey, the sound of their heavy footsteps echoing through the connected apartments, and she would smile politely if she ran into them in the foyer, but she didn’t bother to say hello.

The faces all blurred together over time, a mash-up of a man Haven had no interest in getting to know.

School started during those few weeks. Classes and studio sessions swallowed up Haven’s time—painting, drawing, and art history taking up most of her days. After school was over, instead of heading home, she would go to the library and lose hours inside those thick walls, drowning in books and studying text. It monopolized her attention, but she flourished under the stress.

For yet again in her life, she had a strict schedule. Yet again, she had a list of things to do, and if it wasn’t done she knew there would be consequences. Failing wasn’t an option because, in Haven’s world, failing was as good as giving up on life.

do diverted then, bypassing the hallway to head straight for them. “Carmine,” he said, his eyes scanning the three of them. “Gentlemen.”

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