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“We heard there was a little mix-up with the dorms,” Dad adds. “Everything okay now?”

Everything okay now?That’s it? That’s all they have to say about their daughter being placed in the wrong dorm and living with all boys? I’m tempted to fire something back, but it strikes me howtiredthey sound. Just straight-up exhausted, like making this phone call took the last bit of energy they had left. I don’t know if it’s Sierra or the fact that we’re fighting or that they’re working harder given my coming here was a surprise expense they hadn’t budgeted for, but the fire in me dies out as quickly as it sparked.

Plus, in fairness, allIwant to believe for the rest of the night is that everything is okay now, so I can’t blame them for wanting the same.

“Yeah, everything’s okay. I ended up with my own room and bathroom, so, can’t complain.”

“Oh, that’s great, honey,” says Mom, clearly stifling a yawn. “I’m sorry we couldn’t come see it today, but we’ll be there for Parents’ Weekend.”

Ah, yes, Parents’ Weekend. In two months. “Sure, Mom. Sounds good.”

“How’s the food?” Always my dad’s first question.

“So far, so good. Can’t go wrong with a baked-potato bar.”

“You truly cannot,” he says with a smile in his voice. “And how are the people? Have you found a card buddy—”

A crash in the background on their side, followed by a stream of profanity, cuts him off, and I wince at the realization that Sierra’s there. Of course she found a way to disrupt even this thirty-second conversation. “Your sister’s here,” Mom says weakly, as if forgetting that I can hear everything through the speaker. “Do you want to say hi?”

My parents know that something between Craig and Sierra was the biggest reason I wanted to leave, but I wasn’t about to tell them that I caught their precious oldest child bare-ass naked in bed with my boyfriend. Of course, without knowing that, they think it’s just silly drama between us, like one too many sweaters borrowed without asking, and that this is more about my needing space and being dramatic than anything else. My mom assured me that I’d miss Sierra to death five minutes after I left, and I guess she’s still convinced of that.

“I do not,” I say as diplomatically as I can, “but it sounds like you guys have your hands full over there. I should go. I’ll let you know how classes go tomorrow.”

They don’t seem to mind being shoved off the phone, and as soon as we hang up, I take one deep breath after another, trying to cool down the heat in my face.

Sierra steals my boyfriend, and no one cares.

Sierra curses a blue streak around my parents, and no one cares.

Sierra comes back from parties smelling like vodka and cigarette smoke, and no one cares.

I do everything right—barring tonight’s stupidity with Lucas—and I end up being the one who has to run away.

What is even thepointof being good when you get so much more out of being bad?

In a flash, it hits me. Maybe my fresh start didn’t kick off exactly as I’d planned, but that’s fine; I can learn from this. Because I knew what I was running away from when I came here, but Ididn’tknow what it was I wanted to achieve here, and now I do.

Before I found out Lucas was a wild disappointment in every way, Ididenjoy slipping out of orientation, breaking the rules, finally being the one to get away with something.

During move-in, when I channeled Sierra’s take-charge attitude instead of rolling over and being polite, I actually finally got something done.

Today, I wasn’t the good girl.

Maybe, here, I don’t have to be.

And wouldn’t you know, the perfect person to help me break out of my shell just happens to owe me a favor.

I open up one of my card decks and rub the two of spades for luck, then bound upstairs and look for the door right above mine, hoping to catch Matt before he commences any nightly activities I do not want to witness. Thankfully, I can see through the wide-open door that he’s in there, grabbing a few things from his desk before he heads back out. Unfortunately, I forgot that his snarky roommate would bethere too, but whatever; I’ve gotta do this while I still have the drive.

“So,” I say, making both boys look up at the doorway. “Remember when you said you owe me one?”

Matt grins. “You mean a few hours ago?”

“Oh good, it’s still fresh. Hold that thought.” Okay, how do I phrase this? Especially in a way that won’t have Salem mercilessly destroy me with mockery? “I… need some help.”

“You need me to reach something for you?”

God, tall guys love being tall. “I need you to help me be a different person.”