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I chuckle. “I’m kidding.”Sort of.
She smiles.
“You go to BU?” I ask. Natalie never answered my question earlier, but I assume that must be how she and Tessa know each other.
“Yep,” Tessa confirms. “Just finished freshman year.”
“You like it there?”
“Yeah, it’s awesome. It was super overwhelming at first. I’m from a small town, and both the campus and Boston felt huge. I’m pretty shy around strangers, so it was hard to meet people too. But I’m really happy there. They’ve got a great pre-med program.”
“Wow. You’re pre-med?”
“Yeah. I want to become a psychiatrist.”
“Is that how you met Natalie? Did you guys have a class together?”
Tessa eyes me for a second, making me think my segue wasn’t as subtle as I hoped. “Uh, no. I met her at a party, actually. She took pity on a wallflower and introduced me around.”
“Oh. That’s…nice.”
It is. And not something I would have pictured Natalie doing.
“Yeah. I’m really glad she agreed to come this weekend. I’ve kind of gotten the sense her home life isn’t the best.”
Abruptly, I’m glad Natalie never told Tessa about the rivalry between our hometowns. Because if she had, I don’t think Tessa would have confided that in me. And for some reason I’m not going to dwell on, it’s the most interesting information I’ve heard all night.
“Oh,” is all I can think to say. On social media, Natalie’s life looks perfect. Proof appearances can be deceiving.
Tessa seems to realize that’s something Natalie wouldn’t want shared with me. “I mean, she’s never said anything. I don’t really know.”
“I won’t say anything,” I reassure her.
She exhales. “Okay, good. I’m going to head back downstairs, assuming you don’t need anything?”
“Nope,” I reply. “I’ll unpack a little and then see you down there.”
“Sounds good.” She smiles, and then she’s gone.
Leaving me staring at the messy room across the hall and thinking about the girl who will be staying in there.
CHAPTERSIX
NATALIE
Ican’t fall asleep. I went to bed a couple of hours ago, and since then I’ve done nothing but stare at the ceiling and jump at every small noise.
Nothing around me is visible. The curtains are drawn and all I can see is inky black. Hear thewhooshof the ceiling fan as it spins and occasionally stutters.
I’m used to falling asleep to the reassuring hum of the central air conditioning in my parents’ house. The beach cottage relies on the sea breeze for cooling. But there’s a big storm coming in tonight, so all the windows are closed to literally batten down the hatches. The sheets don’t smell like lavender laundry detergent. And every few minutes, there’s a creak or a snap, and my body releases a fresh flood of adrenaline.
Eventually, I give up. I’m sick of lying here, thinking about green eyes and messy brown hair. For some reason, that’s where my mind keeps wandering. Somehow, Liam Stevens got into my head. I can’t believe he’s here—sleeping across the hall from me. Encountering him twice recently seemed like a coincidence. This feels more like some twisted karma.
I sit up, running a hand through the tangle of my hair and throwing the covers off. I climb out of bed and pull on a sweatshirt before opening my door and creeping down the hall. All the other bedroom doors are shut. I feel my way to the top of the stairs and down them.
I turn on a lamp at the bottom of the stairs, worried I won’t be able to navigate my way through the unfamiliar furniture in the dark. Either it’s a new moon or the storm clouds are blotting out any light because there’s no natural illumination to rely upon as I walk through the living room and into the kitchen. I flip on the light for the back deck.
Thunder rumbles in the distance as I unlock the sliding door and slide it open. The air smells like rain and salt and seaweed. There’s a gas grill to the right and a couch to my left.
