Chapter 11: Fiancée

Chelsea was sitting on the library steps with her suitcase beside her.

She wore the pink sweater. Her hair was in the high ponytail she had worn to every exam.

When she saw me, she stood up and smiled.

"I took a bus," she said. "Nineteen hours."

"Go home, Chelsea."

"I can't. I spent my savings on the ticket."

"Then call your mother."

"Malcolm." Her voice shook. "I just want to talk. I won't touch you. I'll just sit here."

I looked past her at the lit windows of the library.

A security guard was walking the path with a flashlight, and I raised a hand.

"There's a girl here with no place to stay," I told him.

"She's not my guest. Can you help her find the visitor lodge?"

Chelsea's smile broke.

"You're doing this? You're really doing this?"

"Good night."

I walked away, and she called my name twice.

I didn't turn around.

I slept three hours and woke up with a plan.

I would eat breakfast with Lena and go to my first lecture.

If Chelsea showed up again, I would tell the dean's office.

The dining hall at eight was already full.

Lena had saved me a seat by the cereal wall.

She looked at my face and slid a mug across the table.

"Coffee. You look like a ghost."

"Bad night."

"Bad lab night or bad other night?"

"Other."

She nodded and didn't ask.

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