Lily flipped open her cell phone and then stopped. Grandpa would not be happy if he found out she'd panicked five minutes into her test. She should wait to see if any abnormal symptoms developed before she called him.
Pacing back and forth, she waited for signs of a seizure, heart attack, or frothing at the mouth. But aside from a ringing in her ears (which she decided was a distant radio), she felt fine.
She needed to calm down. Yes, this was an incredible, once-in-a-lifetime, unexpected opportunity—and calling it that was
Like overdose on antipsychosis medication.
Almost immediately, the ringing in her ears worsened. It sounded like dissonant notes, blurring into a steady hum. It peaked as she reached a campus road hedged with rhododendron bushes and evergreens. She guessed she was hearing overlapping music from the various Reunion tents beyond the shrubbery. Grandpa had said that each Reunions class had a fenced-off area with its own swing band, country band, disco band, or DJ. That was a much more likely explanation than that the hum was a side effect of too much medication. She pushed aside worries about overdoses and brain hiccups and instead focused on her first view of the heart of campus.
Ahead was a plaza with a soaring cathedral. To her right were Gothic classrooms draped in wisteria. To her left was an ivy-edged walk lined with lampposts. Following a campus road, she passed the cathedral plaza and headed for a wide green lawn flanked by twin, white marble, templelike buildings. This was the Princeton University that she'd been dying to see. Gothic turrets. Gleaming marble buildings. Massive oak and elm and sycamore trees. Lawns so green that the grass looked as if it had been combed and cut by a master barber rather than a lawn mower. And a flock of tourists trailing like ducklings after a woman who was walking backward.
Picking up her pace, Lily trotted across the green lawn toward the Orange Key Tour. She attached herself to the rear of the tour as prospective students, their families, and tourists circled an ivy-clad building. She heard the tour guide call it Nassau Hall, the oldest building at Princeton. Looking up at the yellow stone building with the white bell tower, Lily missed her grandfather. She was supposed to see the campus with him. She'd missed out on that moment.
But if she found the Key before Saturday afternoon, she could still march with Grandpa in P-rade, the annual alumni parade through campus that Grandpa always talked about. She shouldn't feel bad; she hadn't missed all the warm, fuzzy bonding moments. And if she won acceptance to Princeton, that would, of course, be the ultimate moment.
The tourists clustered in front of Nassau Hall. Green copper tigers flanked steps that led to tall blue doors. Lily inched closer to hear the guide, a ponytail-wearing student in a Princeton field hockey shirt, say, 'After commencement, all the new graduates walk out FitzRandolph Gate.'
As the guide pointed behind them, the tour (Lily included) rotated en masse to gawk across the oak-speckled yard at the formal entrance to Princeton. Permanently open, the wrought-iron gate marked the line between campus and the banks, coffee shops, and Rolex stores of the town of Princeton. It was crowned with the Princeton seal and framed by stone pillars, each with a stone eagle on top.
Leaning against one of the pillars was the tiger-haired boy.
Eyes widening, Lily stared at him. Maybe it wasn't the same boy. Maybe orange and black hair was a popular fashion statement on Reunions weekend.
The tour guide continued to talk, 'Legend has it that if you walk out that gate before graduation day, you won't graduate. Ask any student, and he'll say that's just a myth. But ask that same student to walk out that gate, and he'll say no way. We all walk out the side gates.' She pointed to twin gates that flanked the main gate. Made of the same spirals of black iron, they were crowned with lamppost-style lights instead of the Princeton seal. Lily barely glanced at them. Instead she watched the tiger-haired boy walk toward her between the oaks.
He was definitely the same boy. Had he followed her? Why on earth would he?
'I don't even like to come
As he came closer, Lily could see his eyes. She hadn't looked at his eyes before. She'd been too busy looking at his hair, her feet, and the sidewalk in the vain hope that he wouldn't notice how fiercely she'd been blushing. He had beautiful eyes. They were tawny, a brown so light that they were nearly golden. All Lily could do was stare at them.
'You found the tour,' he said in his soft voice.
'Yes,' she said, still staring. His eyes were the same color as a lion's eyes. She'd never seen eyes like his. They were flecked with gold and bronze specks.
'I'm Tye,' he said.
'Lily,' she said.
'Nice to meet you, Lily.' He sounded as if he meant it. She liked the way he said her name, all drawn out. His voice was as warm and smooth as hot chocolate.
In as sunny a voice as she could manage, she asked, 'So ... are you stalking me?'
'Pretty much,' Tye said cheerfully. He flashed her a quintessential bad-boy smile. It made his eyes look like warm honey. She felt herself blushing for the second time. 'I'm here to be your guard,' he said. Before she could process that rather stunning statement, he added, 'Tour's on the move.'
'Oh!' she said. She turned to see the flock of tourists disappear through a brownstone arch. She hesitated. If she chased after the tour, would he leave? 'I should ... You're my
'You're taking the test, right?' he asked. For the first time, he looked unsure of himself. He looked even cuter when he was confused than when he smiled, if that was possible.
'You mean the Old—' She stopped herself before she said 'Old Boys.' They might be the Old Boys' Network, but she bet they wouldn't appreciate being called that. 'Yes, that's me. I mean, I'm taking it.' God, could she sound any more like an idiot? Just because he had nice eyes didn't mean she had to lose all grip on the English language. 'I should catch that tour.'
'Good idea,' he said, and he walked with her to the arch, through an ivy-choked courtyard, and out under a second arch. Distracted by the fact that he was accompanying her, she nearly plowed into the back of a middle- aged woman who was pointing a camera at an array of Gothic buildings across the plaza. Lily skidded to a stop mere inches away.
'Ahead and to your left is Firestone Library,' the tour guide was saying to the flock, 'and ahead and to your right is the University Chapel. We just passed through the courtyard of East Pyne, the Foreign Language Department. If I could draw your attention to the top of the East Pyne arch ...' She pointed, and everyone rotated to view the arch.
At the top of the brownstone archway was a gargoyle shaped like the face of a blindfolded woman. Stunted arms jutted out under her chin to hold open a stone book. Every tourist aimed a camera up at the gargoyle.
'So ... I'm on the right track to find the Key?' Lily asked Tye. She leaned closer to him so that the tourists wouldn't overhear. This close, she breathed in his scent. He smelled like a rain forest, or like the flower shop after Mom had misted all the plants. In his jeans and black T-shirt, he hadn't seemed like the scented-aftershave type of guy.
He flashed his lopsided smile. 'Depends on what you want to open.'
Enigmatic much? 'Thank you, Cheshire Cat.' Maybe he didn't understand that her whole future rested on this.
His smile vanished, and he self-consciously ran his hand through his tiger-striped hair. 'What do you mean by that?'
Who dyed their hair crazy colors and then acted shy about it? Mom never flinched at the odd looks she got. Of course, that was Mom, queen of getting odd looks. 'That wasn't a hair comment,' Lily said. 'I like your hair.'
His grin returned. 'Thanks.'
She wondered if he thought she was flirting.
The tour guide continued. 'Some of the campus gargoyles, like the Literate Ape on Dillon Gym, are humorous. Some are more classically inspired, like the Chained Dragon, which we'll see in just a moment on the University
