raised her eyebrows.
“Really.”
She waited for me to change my mind or go on. When I didn’t, she cleared her throat.
“You know, it’s a good idea to talk about how you’re feeling to someone like me, especially when you’re in a new place and don’t know many people.”
I hesitated. Nothing that was bothering me could come out sounding anything less than selfish and self-pitying.
I smiled and shrugged. “I’m good, I like it here.”
She waited again, as she had when Dana had lied, and then carried on.
“Well, then, on to other business.” She placed her glasses on her nose and looked down at a manila folder that must be mine. “You’ve been accepted to a few colleges already, I see?”
“Yes, Florida State University and Boston University.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Two very different places. May I ask why you applied to each?”
“Boston is where my parents went. They met there and everything.” I thought of the photo album filled with pictures from their four years there. It was what I imagined when I thought of college. It was so … I don’t know, academic feeling. They had millions of pictures in front of big old buildings or in small, awful dorm rooms with big windows that looked out on a place filled with history. I imagined a grassy quad filled with studying students in scarves and BU sweatshirts, good-looking guys throwing perfectly spiraled footballs, and a slightly chilly wind carrying fallen leaves across the sidewalks that lead to brick dorms filled with first experiences.
Not that I’d thought about it very much.
“And why FSU?” Dr. Morgan asked, shaking me from my thoughts.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I just always planned to go there. It’s where all of my friends are going and it’s near home.”
Then there were the thoughts that came to mind when I thought of going there. Palm trees and smooth, modern buildings. Hugely popular bands performing in the stadium. Still being able to tan in October.
It had always been the plan. But when I thought of it, it just felt like it would be too easy.
My friends and I would stay in our habits at school. I wouldn’t make a whole other group of friends. I’d go home a lot. I’d have fun, but wouldn’t try anything new. I had horrible images of myself graduating and sticking around, never seeing anything new. Never taking a risk.
“Which are you leaning toward, either one?”
“I’ve been planning on going to FSU.”
“And what major are you considering currently?”
“I don’t know yet.”
She looked at me as if waiting for me to decide on one. When I gave a pitiful smile, she said, “All right, that’s fine. Most people don’t know at this stage anyway. You’ve got plenty of time.”
“I wanted to talk to you, or whoever, about maybe a scholarship. I don’t know if I have the grades or … I don’t know, I guess I just wanted to ask about it.”
“Well, the problem there is that scholarships are easiest to come by when you do have a major in mind.” She squinted and then bent over to open a drawer behind her. She pulled from it a stapled packet. “Fill this out.”
“What is it?”
“It’s called Major Undecided. It’s basically a test to find out where your interests really lie. I must encourage you to answer honestly. Take your time doing it. This could really help you. So don’t look at it like homework. Look at it as a ticket to your decision.”
I nodded. “I will.”
“Well, if there’s not anything else we need to discuss, then you’re all set.” She eyed me carefully. “And you’re sure there’s nothing else?”
“That’s all for me.” I stood, and then hesitated. “I mean, it’s been difficult, in some ways. But that’s just because I’m new. It’s always hard to be new.”
She nodded, waiting for me to go on.
“I just … I feel weird because I’m in Becca Normandy’s room and I feel like everyone else feels weird about that, too. I’m not trying to take her place.”
“Of course not.”
“And Madison and Julia … I don’t know if you know them, you probably do … well anyway, they were friends with Becca, and they keep asking me if I like Max Holloway—” my heart skipped a little on his name “—and I never said I did. And even if I did, it shouldn’t be up to them what I do with it, right? I know it’s kind of weird because Becca’s his girlfriend … but if he liked me back, then would it be messed up of me to just go with it?”
“Don’t worry about the other girls. They are going through something very traumatizing, and it’s making them all think too hard. I must admit, I was afraid of what the repercussions might be when you arrived.”
The idea that she had seen this coming startled me. “Really?”
“Of course. You replaced—” she did quotes with her fingers “—a student here whom a lot of other students cared for. Especially Dana, Madison, Julia, etc. I’m sure it’s very difficult to feel welcoming of someone who wouldn’t be here if their friend still was.”
That was blunt.
“But what you must remember,” Dr. Morgan went on, “is that anything they do that is an effect of their own fluxing emotions has nothing to do with you.”
When I left, I wasn’t sure if I felt better or not.
Saturday afternoon, Blake invited me to go into town with her.
“Manderley is like being stuck in an attic. Dusty, cold, and you feel like you might be struck by lightning at any moment. Sometimes it’s just nice to get out.”
We wandered around Main Street for a little while, chatting about this and that, before deciding to get a bite to eat from a French café called Les Filles de Cuisine. I hoped it would taste anything like my mother’s cooking.
I saw the menu had Orangina, like most of these Americanized places, and ordered it immediately.
“Blake?”
We both turned to see Madison and Julia coming in.
“Madison, Julia, hey.” Blake sounded as tired of them as I was.
They pulled the other two-seater table up to ours. “I love this place,” said Madison. “Their food is so good. I didn’t think we’d be able to come though.”
“Why?” I asked. For some stupid reason.
“Well …” Julia and she exchanged a look. “Last time we were here, Becca
