Chapter 4: Terms

California was bright enough to hurt my eyes.

I stood outside the arrivals door with my duffel and a paper map of Westbridge I had printed at midnight.

Nico stood beside me with his hands in his jacket pockets.

"Terms," I said.

He nodded once. "Go ahead."

"You never come into a classroom or a lab. You stay outside."

"Fine."

"You report nothing to my father that I haven't read first. Every text, before you send it."

"Fine."

"I can fire you any day, for any reason, and you go home without an argument."

"Fine."

"And you never lie to me, Nico. About anything."

He looked at me for a long moment.

"That one I'll shake on," he said, and held out his hand.

I shook it.

His palm was warm and dry, and he let go first.

We took a shuttle to campus.

Westbridge was glass and white concrete, with palm trees along the walkways and signs that said things like Welcome, Class of Whatever.

Nobody on those walkways knew who my father was.

I walked slowly just to enjoy it.

The housing office gave me a key card for Hollis Hall, room 312.

"It's a suite," the student at the desk said, scrolling. "Two bedrooms, one bath. You'll have a suitemate. The second name hasn't loaded."

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