Page 1 of Fostering Chemistry
1
MIA
I’d survivedfive foster homes, a high school that barely qualified as one, and a year at community college. But now, I’d finally reached my goal: a scholarship to the prestigious Langley University, where I’d started my classes six weeks ago.
So why did tonight feel less like a welcome meeting and more like a gladiator pit?
The house I’d moved into earlier today felt like it had stories. It had seen dozens of students cycle through, and it wasn’t impressed by any of us. The couch I sat on was threadbare in spots, and one armchair had duct tape on the side. Four of my new housemates sat nearby. I wondered if they were nervous, too, or if they were just better at starting over than I was.
Odds were, we’d all had plenty of practice at it.
The other students looked to be within a year or two of my age, twenty. That probably meant none of them were the residential advisor, who was supposed to be running this meeting. He was in graduate school, and no one here looked like they were.
The guy in the armchair off to my left looked like a freshman, as did the shorter guy on the other sofa. The young man and woman seated with him looked to be sophomores or juniors.
The older of the two guys on the sofa got to his feet, and my first thought was that he’d just stepped out of a campus brochure—he was handsome, confident, and looked as if he’d never been nervous a day in his life. His tight jeans emphasized his long legs, and his navy sweater looked soft in that unmistakably expensive, definitely-not-from-a-clearance-rack way. He had a casually put-together vibe, while I was in jeans that hadn’t fit right since high school.
When he walked over, I almost glanced behind me to make sure he wasn’t aiming for someone else, even though there weren’t many of us here. “Got to even things out,” he said with a friendly smile, dropping onto the couch next to me. “You looked a little outnumbered over here.” His voice was easygoing, his posture relaxed. “I’m Aaron.”
It did feel better now that I wasn’t sitting by myself. “Mia,” I said, trying for a carefree tone. “Nice to meet you.”
Up close, he was unnervingly handsome. Square jaw with a trace of stubble and hazel eyes that flashed warm gold near the center and brown at the edges. His chestnut hair was styled casually and the way his sweater clung to his chest and shoulders made me assume he was no stranger to the gym. I became suddenly aware of my posture—legs tense and pressed tightly together, hands folded nervously in my lap. Hopefully, I didn’t look like an alien approximating human behavior.
“So, you were in the Stepping Stones program?” he asked.
Though Langley was an elite private school nestled in the smoky mountains in northern Georgia, it still provided some scholarships and assistance to students like me. “Yes.” It seemed like I should say more than one syllable, but nothing came to mind.
“What’d you think?”
“It was okay.” The program I’d just completed was for students from shaky academic backgrounds. I’d gone to my classes as normal, but the program layered in extra lectures, meetings, and support. Basically, it was handholding, though no one called it that. Some parts helped, but I was relieved it was over. Now it felt like my real time at Langley had finally begun.
“It seems like a good way to start your freshman year.”
Aaron had an easy, relaxed manner about him that was calming if you could forget how good-looking he was. Which, right now, I couldn’t.
“I’m not exactly a freshman,” I said.
“What exactly are you, then?” He wore a subtle, crisp cologne that reminded me of pine trees, though I wasn’t the outdoorsy type. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d noticed a man’s scent unless it was bad. That definitely didn’t apply to Aaron.
“I went to a community college last year and was able to transfer most of my credits, so I’m almost a sophomore.”
“Well, I hope your almost-sophomore year is off to a good start.” He leaned closer, as if he were about to tell me a secret. “You look like you’re waiting for a job interview. You’ve already got six weeks under your belt at Langley. Tonight is nothing to worry about.”
“But I’ve only beenherehalf a day,” I emphasized.
“That’s a good thing. You’ll love it here. And Diego’s a good guy.”
“Is he the RA?”
“Yeah, but we think of him as a cross between an older brother and a den mother. He grew up in the foster system like we did, so he knows what we’ve been through. I lived here last year, too, so I know him well. He’s a good guy, and he won’t put you on the spot, if that’s what you’re worried about. We’ll all introduce ourselves, even though you’re the only one who’s new.”
“What?” I squeaked.
“Everyone else moved in at the start of the semester.”
The nerves Aaron had soothed came roaring back. “Why make everyone sit through this? Why not just talk to me privately?” Nobody was going to like me if I was the reason for an extra meeting.
“Diego does things by the book, and he knows how disorienting it can be to move into a new place. We all do.” Aaron crossed one ankle over the other, and I couldn’t help noticing how snug his jeans were. “How many foster homes were you in?”
