Great. Another question. “No complaints so far, Miss Sherry.” I edged toward the stairs. Couldn’t she see the dark cloud hovering over my head?
She cinched her hands onto her plump hips. “Now don’t be shy. I’m sure a pretty girl like you has lots of friends and lots of guys chasing her.”
Flames fanned up my neck, but I mussed my hair to cover it. Time to pull out one of those pageant smiles Mom taught me. “Well, that’s very nice of you to say.”
She motioned me toward the front desk. “Since your dad’s on the board, we all figured you’d start as soon as your brother graduated. But after what happened to the Donovan girl, no one blames your brother for running off to Europe. Or your parents for being shy to send you to us. So sad really.”
“You mean Julia? What happened to her?” I looked around the room as if she were hiding behind the couch, plotting this whole thing. But the lobby was strangely empty.
“No, this was before Julia’s time.” The desk dug into Miss Sherry’s belly as she leaned forward, lowering her voice a notch or two. “I meant her sister of course.”
“Say what?” All I could do was stare blankly like an idiot.
She laughed. “Your face is too funny, like someone kept it a secret from you on purpose.”
“Okay...” What an odd response. Somehow, my head bobbed, but I couldn’t feel it. My whole body felt numb. “Why wouldn’t they tell me?”
“I’m sure your parents just wanted to protect you.” She ran her fingers through her short fluffy hair, her dark eyes surveying my face. “I’m sorry I brought it up, me and my big mouth. I never meant to upset you.”
“So what happened—?” I clamped my mouth shut as a flash of blonde hair appeared at my side.
I turned to see Monica’s white smile. “Hey, Lucy, don’t let me interrupt something. I’m just here for my weekly check-in with Miss Sherry. Then I’ll be up to inspect your room.”
“Super,” I groaned, ready to make a beeline for the stairs.
“Don’t worry, sugar. Everything will be fine.” Miss Sherry’s bracelets jingled as she patted me on the shoulder.
I could only nod at her. She clomped out from behind her desk and ushered Monica into her office.
Okay, maybe I was totally paranoid, but something weird was definitely going on there. Did something bad happened to Julia’s sister? Did it have anything to do with my brother? Maybe I didn’t want to know.
I shuffled up the stairs and down the hall until I reached Julia’s door. Muffled noises seeped under the cracks, crying noises. I raised my hand to knock, but chickened out and tiptoed to my room instead. She probably didn’t need my prying questions right now.
As soon as I closed my door, I tugged open the dusty blinds with a whoosh that echoed off the hardwood floors of room 210, my boarding school dorm for the next nine months. The windowpane stood tall and alone against the far brick wall, like a sentinel on guard. Nothing could go wrong on its watch. A perfect view of the river loomed beyond the glass, juxtaposed against a serene lawn. The green contrasted with the deep gray water, merging into a peaceful palette. If I closed my eyes, I could almost hear the gurgle of rushing water over the pitter patter of Shanda typing away on her laptop.
I curled up in the window seat as rain pattered against the glass, a random lull that soothed all of my questions away.
Just as I got comfy in my window nook, a knock banged on our door. Without a word from me or Shanda, the door popped open and Monica burst into the room. So much for manners.
“Hey girls, sorry to interrupt. I’m Monica Belmont, your dorm’s resident assistant this year. I haven’t met you yet, so I wanted to stop in and say hi.” She flipped her golden hair over the shoulder of her perfectly pressed coral tank top, her tawny cat eyes glinting as she stared me down. “Plus, it’s time for your dorm inspection.”
“I’m Lucy, and this is my roommate, Shanda Jones.” Mom would applaud my manners, especially when the favor wasn’t returned.
“Inspection?” Shanda barely glanced up and made a mad dash to her closet. Mom wouldn’t call that entertaining properly. What would Shanda’s mom say, or did she even have a mom? She never mentioned her.
“I thought it was pronounced Shawnda, like Wanda.” Monica’s southern drawl stretched each syllable like pink taffy as she made a note on her clipboard.
“No, it’s Shan-duh.” My roomie turned to glare at Monica, enunciating both syllables slowly. “People get it wrong all the time.”
“Then I don’t feel so bad.” Monica’s high-pitched laugh grated my ears. “Nice to meet you too, Lucy. Of the famous McAllens. Your brother was a legend around campus. He must be the life of the party wherever he is in Europe.”
“I’m sure.” I cringed and glanced at Shanda, who gave our less than friendly RA the side eye.
Monica brushed her blond hair over her shoulder like she hadn’t just poked an old wound. “I’ll be popping in now and then to check on you, besides your weekly inspections of course.”
“Good to know.” Shanda turned back to rummaging around her closet.
Monica didn’t seem to notice her clipped tone as she walked around the room, perusing the space. Most of the stuff in the room was Shanda’s. She’d set up the room before I got there.
When I’d walked into my dorm room for the first time, everything was all laid out already. Our beds were pushed against the long brick wall, with a desk in between for an extra dose of personal space. She’d even shoved the standard-issue dressers into the closest by the front door to make the room feel
