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My parents also cared about exactly one criterion—financial aid, which the school kindly provided me—and so Camden it was.

“You’re in the wrong place,” Ginger repeats unhelpfully.

“Yes, we have established that. I was assigned to this room by someone who clearly thought from my name that I was a boy, and they were wrong, and now I need a new room in a girls’ dorm. Are we all caught up?”

Ginger eyes me like I’ve said something extremely shady, but he does it while picking up his super cool walkie-talkie and repeating the scenario to whatever unlucky bastard is on the other side, having to deal with logistical screwups like this in the middle of an already hectic orientation day. Ten minutes of silent standoff later, during which Ginger has to keep darting out to shake parents’ hands and help kids find where they’re going, someone with an even bigger beard—and so I assume more authority—shows up.

“This is a problem,” says Beardy. “Your name is Everett?”

“Evie.”

“What?”

“Evie. I know, the longEisn’t intuitive with Everett’s shortE,but it’s what I prefer to be called. Possibly because Everett has a way of landing me in situations like this.”

There’s a gruff acknowledgment, a squint like maybe all the blond from my frizzy cloud of hair has seeped into my brain, and then, “Okay, Evie. Are your parents at the breakfast?”

“They couldn’t make it today. It’s just me.”

He frowns. “And you’re a sophomore transfer?”

“Yes, sir.” I have no idea where the “sir” comes from. Itfeels like something Archie would say. It might be because in contrast to Ginger’s Bostonian accent, Beardy’s is crisp and bordering on posh, and it demands some propriety. Which is not my strong suit.

It also occurs to me that no one wears name tags in this place. They should really wear name tags at orientation.

“Lockwood, Ewing, Hillman, and Baker are the options for sophomore girls,” he says, as if he’s talking to someone who didn’t do her research before uprooting her entire life and throwing herself into a school she hadn’t even heard of three months earlier.

“I know. I put down Lockwood and Ewing.”

“Well, Lockwood and Ewing are both full to capacity.”

“Okaaay,” I say slowly, “so put me in Baker or Hillman.”

“Those are also full to capacity. It’s a great year for Camden Academy,” he says proudly, as if I’m gonna cheer on the very fact that’s screwing me over.

“Maybe Mercer?” Ginger suggests, and I can’t remember off the top of my head whether that’s a freshman dorm or a senior one, but I really and truly do not want either one.

“Lemme save you the trouble here,” Beardy says to him, a note of irritation entering his voice. “Every single room—girls’ and boys’—is full this year.”

“That can’t be,” Archie says coldly.

Now the men are exchanging glances and then looking at me like I’m some kind of problem child, like I caused this, like I wanted to have to practically run away from home and deal withthison top of a thrice-broken heart. Because ofcourse, Evie is always the problem. My sister, Sierra, could set my house on fire and convince the rest of the town I did it to keep myself warm.

I came here to escape that, to escapeher.And if being myself isn’t helping me achieve that sufficiently, then maybe I need to take a page from her book.

Putting on my stone-coldest expression—the very one I wore when I told Sierra to get out of my life for good—I cross my arms in front of my chest and look Ginger squarely in the eye. “Not to agree with him on something, but it really can’t. You accepted me here. You took my parents’ money. You took me in as a student—as aboardingstudent—and that means you have an obligation to fulfill. So I’m sure you’ll figure it out. Quickly.”

My sudden frostiness seems to stun them all into silence, and finally, there’s some action. Beardy starts arguing with someone on a walkie-talkie, while Ginger starts pleading with someone else on his. Then a bell rings, and Ginger swears under his breath.

“We’ve got dorm orientation right now, and I don’t have any more time to deal with this. Just come to Rumson orientation and we’ll figure it out afterward.”

“You want me to come to orientation for a boys’ dorm?”

“‘Want’ is a strong word, but yes, that’s what we’re doing. Come on.”

“Don’t you dare tell anyone you’re my roommate,” Archie warns me as Ginger hurries ahead, leaving us to follow in his wake. “This is not lasting past the hour.”

“I promise not to cramp your style around the other guys,” I vow with a hand over my heart.