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Chapter One
Emily
I’m having a bad day. And not one of those mildly bad days that I can shrug off with an ice cream cone, either, but a really, really shitty day. The kind that requires a long, scented bath and a nap. You know, things I will never have time for.
I step out of the looming door of Turning East and wring water out of my hair. Droplets splatter to the sidewalk. The other students bustling past me are bone dry. It’s not fair. It seems I’m the only one who got caught in the freak five-minute rainstorm. Even my best black flats are soaked through and make squishing noises with every step I take.
I wouldn’t have been caught in the rain if I had been on time to class, but I had to change my clothes at the last minute when I discovered that my favorite blouse had a tear in the sleeve. Then I spilled coffee on myself and needed to change again. And now, to make matters worse, I’ve missed the deadline on my Advanced Anatomy lab report. I was so sure I had until Tuesday! I was planning on writing it as soon as I got home tonight. Now I don’t know what I’ll do. Mr. Hortenson is notorious for refusing late work, and I literally cannot afford to fail his class.
The whole mess started when I lost my planner last week. I don’t normally lose things, but when I looked in my bag to pull it out, the damn thing wasn’t there. I’ve torn my apartment apart since then, but still nothing. I put my entire life in that stupid planner.
I should’ve double-checked when I filled in the new one from memory, but that’s me. An overconfident girl who misses deadlines because she’s a hot mess.
I step off the sidewalk and into the green space beside it. The grass is still damp, so there’s no one out picnicking right now, but usually dozens of students would be sitting on the grass to eat their lunch in the company of one of Boston’s better harbour views.
I lean back against a huge old birch tree and sigh.
This campus is beautiful. I’m embarrassed to admit it’s half the reason I picked UMass when I was deciding on colleges four years ago. It looks the way I’d always imagined a college should look. Staunch brick buildings, tree lined pathways, smartly dressed students hurrying between their classes. The sights and sounds of a bustling city, but secluded enough to make you feel as though you’re in a whole other world.
Other colleges have students trundling to class in pajamas, but not here. It’s a public school, but it’s competitive to get into. Only the top ten percent of students make the cut.
The professors are all required to have industry experience in their fields and multiple publications to their names. The classes are rigorous, and only too happy to leave students behind to enhance their reputation as a tough school.
The culture here is so thick with the desire to succeed that I can feel it in the air.
The problem with everyone here being so put together is that I inevitably feel like the biggest mess in contrast. It’s not like I’m a complete disaster. I did get in, after all. And I’ve managed to stay on track with all my pre-med classes, even if it has been a struggle at times.
Okay, it’s a struggle most of the time.
I swing my backpack off my shoulder and check to see if my papers are ruined. The bright green vinyl fabric appears to have kept everything dry. I breathe a sigh of relief.
“Emily!”
I look up at the sound of Heather’s voice, and give her a small wave as she bounces over to me.
Heather is hands down the cheeriest person I’ve ever met. She’s always smiling and wearing bright pastel colors. Today she’s wearing white slacks with a bubblegum pink blouse. She also made the sensible choice to go into business instead of medicine.
“Mr. Hortenson is the worst,” she says. “I just heard how he embarrassed you in front of the entire class. I can’t believe a professor would do that.”
I really didn’t need to be reminded of Mr. Hortenson pointing me out as the only one in the class who hadn’t completed my lab report. He kept repeating over and over again that problems like this should not arise in a four hundred level class. He seems to think that only freshmen can make mistakes.
“I’ll be okay,” I say. “It’s only my ability to graduate on the line.”
Heather laughs like I’m making a joke, but I’m not. I’m worried. If I can’t graduate in four years, then my scholarship will run out and I won’t be able to graduate at all. That means no medical school. All my life plans will collapse into chaos.
“Walk to Wheatley Hall together?” Heather asks.
“In a minute. I’ll catch up.”
I watch her walk away, then pull out my cell phone. What I’m about to do is embarrassing, but it’s also my biggest comfort on days like this. I open the longest chain of unanswered text messages in my messaging app. I don’t mind that they’re unanswered. The number is probably dead anyway.
I’m having the worst day, I type. I feel like an idiot. I miss how you used to tell me that I can conquer the world. Fuck, I just miss you.
I send the message and put my cell phone away. I haven’t seen Peter in ten years. I know it’s ridiculous to miss someone this much after such a long time, especially when I hadn’t known him for that long to begin with.
Ten years ago, Peter was my stepbrother and I loved him more than I had ever loved anyone. I idolized him in a way that probably wasn’t totally appropriate for a younger step-sibling. He was just so intense, so different from any other boy I’d ever met. He knew exactly what he wanted in life and went after it, full force.
