Page 2 of Too Safe

Galvanized by my promise, I called my uncle and applied for the nontraditional student scholarship at Lake Chapel University he’d told me about a few years ago. I wrote my application essay about Alice, and from there, the pieces fell into place. I like to think she had a hand in how things have changed for me. Ever since I decided to move forward, everything feels like it’s happening at warp-speed.

In the last week, I’ve accepted a full-ride scholarship, turned in the keys to my tiny basement apartment, and resigned from my job. Now I’m stretching my neck from side to side on a bus as it coasts down route seventy-seven. I’m wedged between the freezing window and a middle-aged man whose bald head I have to keep guiding back onto his shoulders as he bobs in his sleep.

Forty-two hundred dollars, a vow to my ninety-six-year-old friend, and a life that had stalled out before it even had a chance to begin.

How can a moment feel like a last chance and a fresh start at the same time?

Today is the first day of my next chapter. As much as it scares me, I’m hitting rewind on the story of my life. Starting fresh. Being brave and choosing to live.

For Alice.For me.

Chapter 1

Josephine

Igripthegearshift so hard my knuckles are white as I pull into the commuter lot and guide my car into my assigned spot.

Closing my eyes, I suck in a shaky breath. I can do this. Iamdoing this.

Now I just have to get out of the car.

My next steps should be easy. Pull the lever, push the door open, heave myself out of the car, and walk onto campus. My first class of the day is a short trek from here.

But as I exit the vehicle and squint into the bright, already-too-hot morning sun, an eclipse darkens my wholenew year, new memojo.

Poof.

All the positive self-talk that’s been cycling through my mind is no match for the massive brute before me.

“You’re a girl.”

I’m taken aback by his words. I’m even more disarmed by the tan fingers wrapped around the open doorframe of the 2002 Honda Civic my uncle gifted me last week.

Uncle Sam is unabashedly proud of the car—a rebuild he’s been working on since I officially committed to Lake Chapel University and to living with him this fall.

He joked that if I had to live in a junkyard, I shouldn’t have a ride that looked like it belonged there. I fought back tears when he handed me the keys.

I’m not a crier, and yet I couldstilltear up thinking about that moment. I’ve already named her Honey.

Suffice to say, I’m feeling extra prickly when I lift my chin to meet the gaze of the guy literally manhandling my new car. I’m fully prepared to tell him off, but my words falter as I assess his hard-set jaw, perfect lips, and annoyingly high cheek bones. But it’s his eyes that stand to be my undoing.

Onyx black, with almost no distinction between the iris and the pupil. It’s like staring into the inkiest lagoon—one that’s all but guaranteed to be hiding a monster.

Although he’s at least half a foot taller than me, I remind myself he’s no monster.

I’ve faced real monsters. I’ve survived real monsters.

If this guy thinks he can intimidate me, he’s got another thing coming.

Pursing my lips and cocking one brow, I stare right back with all the attitude I can muster. When he makes no move to get out of my way, I peel each of his fingers off my precious car and scrutinize him again.

“Paws off my ride, asshole. And yes, although gender is a social construct and it’s not appropriate to assume you know anything about a person’s identity, I am, in fact, a girl.”

I brush my poker-straight hair over my shoulder and plant one hand on my hip.

Though it seems impossible, his irises get darker. Then he scowls and turns to the guy leaning against a black G-Wagon a few feet away. His chin is tipped down, and his attention is locked on the tablet propped against his stomach.

“She’s a girl?” the first guy growls, like I’ve offended him in some way.

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