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CHAPTER14
Evie
I made the mistake of thinking my day couldn’t possibly get worse. I guess the universe takes that kind of thinking as a challenge. Like, oh… you thinkthisshit is bad? Hold my beer. Just wait.
Turns out, I missed orientation hour. All the freshmen are walking around with these cool-looking notebooks and thermal cups with the university’s crest on it. Everyone’s walking around in pairs, exploring the campus and figuring out what’s where.
But me? I haven’t even had coffee yet, my hair’s a mess, and I still have toothpaste on my fucking shirt. When someone eventually tells me how to find the assembly hall, there are only two TAs left, and they’ve already taken down pretty much all the orientation stuff.
At least I get a pen.
I’m furious, my chest heaving as I stalk down the hall looking for a bathroom. I need to pee, or wash my face, or have a good sob… I don’t even know. But this place is a labyrinth, and for some reason every hallway is deserted.
Guess everyone’s in class. Where you’re supposed to be.
My phone rings in my blazer pocket. I draw it out, staring at the screen for a second before my brain fires on.
“Dad!” My voice hitches, and I quickly swallow down whatever else I was going to say. At the sound of my father’s accented voice, a sharp pang hits me. I totally forgot to call him back. What’s wrong with me? I fight it for a moment before accepting my fate and sinking down to the carpet.
“I’ve been worried,” Dad says. “You never called.”
“I’m so sorry. I got so caught up with everything. My dorm room flooded, and—”
“Flooded?Where are you staying?”
“Oh, it’s fine, I found a place.”
“On campus?” Dad asks warily. “It is safe?”
“Yeah,” I reply, a tad too fast.
I actually have no idea just howsafethe Walsh House actually is, especially with Owen just down the hall. But that’s not something my father needs to worry about. I’m dealing with it.
At least, I think I am.
“And how is school?”
“Um… it’s okay. Big. You’d love the campus. The architecture is beautiful.” My father’s a structural engineer, and he loves looking at old buildings—probably because he can see right through to the bones. He can go on at length about trusses, and arches, and a lot of other stuff I’ll never understand.
“And your place where you’re staying? It is on campus?”
“Yeah. Just a short drive from the main building.”
“Good, good.” He lets out a breath.
“And your place?” I ask. “How is the apartment?”
“It is… structurally sound.” He says this through a laugh, but I know he’s not joking. “Will you come visit me on the weekend?”
“Oh, yeah, of course.” I hesitate. “I’ll just have to find someone to take me to town.”
“I’ll send a cab.”
“Okay. Saturday?”
“Sounds good. I look forward to hearing all about your classes.”
One side of my mouth pulls into a smile. “Can’t wait to see you.”
