Page 13 of Hannah.

“Nothing to do with arts. Mom’s a judge, and Dad manages the family’s business. And yours?”

There’s a small pause before she answers. “Mom collects art, is on the board of a few nonprofits, and my dad is a businessman and politician.”

My interest is piqued. “Siblings?”

“Only child.” There’s a hint of disappointment in her voice. “You?”

“Five; two older and three younger.”

We find a small bench and sit as we continue our exchange. “Wow. Isn’t it too chaotic?”

“Tell me about it.” A small smile plays at the corners of my lips, and I take a deep breath. “Why do you think I’m here? My oldest two are at the University of Amsterdam; the last thing I wanted was to go and be among them.” I see Astrid nodding, visibly engrossed in what I’m saying. “Dad told me I was the first in the family to study abroad, which is crazy to me.”

Her lips curve into a smile, and she playfully nudges my arm. “Well, congrats, Miss Hannah. Your determination paid off, and that’s something to be proud of.”

Her words linger in the air, and I’m surprised at my real connection with this woman I only met a few hours ago. “I can't still believe I’m here,” I say, my eyes taking in the view. “I don’t think it’s set in yet that I’m a student at Cambridge. I’ve wanted it for so long.”

Astrid hums in agreement. “Just make sure to put yourself out there when you can. Too many new students hole up in their dorms, ultra-fixated on their studies. They forget to live a little.What’s the point of being here at this school if you aren’t going to experience it in full, you know?”

“I’ll try.” I have reservations about why I don’t necessarily want to be an extrovert, but I keep them to myself.

“Well, how about this?” Astrid turns to me, facing me fully. “On Saturday night, the archaeology department is hosting a private exhibition featuring English archaeological discoveries.”

“Oh?” I ask, intrigued. “Yeah, that sounds like a really good time.”

“It’s invite-only, so there won’t be any huge crowds,” Astrid explains. “There'll be everything from ancient jewelry to intricate tools. It should be amazing.”

My excitement mirrors hers. “Count me in. I can’t believe I found someone else as interested in this stuff as I am. Thank you for the opportunity, Astrid. Really.”

“Of course!” She smiles, and her nose wrinkles adorably. “It will be the best night.”

4

Hannah

Saturday dawns bright and early,the morning light coming through the curtains I left open last night to better see the moon. I was hoping to sleep in, but my phone is going off, and I have no choice but to peel my eyes open. Oh well. I guess I should get used to getting up early.

Astrid’s contact is flashing on the screen—a missed call, followed by a text. As my brain starts to churn in, I realize why she must be texting me so early. The day of the exposition has finally arrived. I smile, already anticipating the night until I read the message, and my face falls.

All set for tonight? Do you have a nice dress or something? It’s formal attire.

Reality hits me—I have nothing to wear that fits the occasion. It’s not like I thought I’d need to pack a formal dress for college! All I brought are pair of baggy pants, casual chinos, and sneakers. Panic sets in, and I quickly type back a hesitantNo…I didn’t bring anything like that with me.

She doesn’t message back, and I force myself out of bed and into the shower. Crap…what am I supposed to do? I don’t know anyone well enough to ask to borrow a dress, and it’s not like Mom can ship one over from my closet in hours.

Just as I start to stress about it, my phone starts ringing, causing me to get out of the shower to retrieve it.

Rolling a towel around my body, I take the phone and see it’s Astrid calling.

“Yes?” I answer.

“Hi, Hannah! Morning!” Her voice is melodic and bright, and it sounds like she’s been awake for quite some time. “If you don’t have anything planned, maybe we can go shopping and have lunch together. What do you think?”

Her generosity takes me aback. We’ve only just met, and here she is, ready to help me out. I almost protest, but Astrid insists. “I can even come and pick you up!”

“I don’t know, Astrid, I’m not prepared and–”

“How long do you need? I can be there in fifteen,” she continues, and I can even hear her speeding up her pace. She’s been so kind and helpful that I can’t refuse her offer.

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