Page 4 of Allure

“You can go ahead,” I tell her. “That’s not really my thing.”

“It’s not really mine, either,” she admits, “but I’m nervous. Aren’t you?”

I shrug.

“Did a lot of kids from your high school come here?” she asks.

“Nope. I’m the only one. A fresh start.”

“And that doesn’t bother you at all?”

I shake my head and make a face. “Nah. Why would it? I mean, sure, I had friends in high school, but it’s time to move on, to move forward. Besides, I’m from Florida.”

“Oh, wow,” she murmurs. “That’s so far away.”

“A wonderful distance,” I assure her.

She eyes me. “It almost seems like you’re running away.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” I protest, “and besides, my mom knows where I am.”

“My parents both attended the university. This is where they met. It was always just assumed that I would go here too.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why?” She lifts her eyebrows and bites her lower lip.

“You felt like you had no choice.”

“Oh, no. It’s not like that at all. I wanted to come here. It’s fine.”

“Did a lot of kids from your high school come here?”

She shakes her head. “Most went to Berkeley.”

“Gotcha.”

“I’m gonna go,” she announces. “What’s your cell? If you want to meet up later, we can, or if you change your mind…”

"Not happening." I take her cell, plug in my number, and send myself a text with a smiley face so I have her number. "The meeting up later for us to hang out? That can totally happen, but the orientation, that's all you, hon."

She laughs, and I think some of her nerves have settled a bit. Good.

Our room is basically all unpacked, and I opt to head back to the park, specifically to that table with the flyers. There are more freshmen milling about now, some even swinging, but I ignore them and grab the flyer.

Hmm. It lists the class times. Adults can have one free class before they have to register, and the one for Monday starts at four-fifteen. That gives me a little bit of time to myself before I’ll have to get changed and ready to head on over.

I head back over to Orchard House. I’m actually not parked too far from where Dawn parked. As a present for starting college, my mom bought me a second car. I wasn’t about to drive across the country in mine, so I have my car back there, too, although I told Mom to sell mine. I don’t need two cars, and I can just fly back home if I want.

Only, home hasn’t felt like home in the longest time.

It had been a prison.

That’s why I had to put as much distance between me and there. Although I suppose I could’ve gone to school in Alaska or at least Seattle, but come on. I’m a Florida girl. I freeze if the temp hits fifty. Hell, I don’t even like it when it’s below seventy.

But Mom is convinced I’m coming back often.

She’s wrong.

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