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“As in president of Yale, Dr. Amina Pierce?” Mr. Mallory inquires.

My mother’s lips tip up. “The very same.”

“That means you’re Pierce of Pierce Holdings?” Mrs. Mallory gleans.

Nodding, my father confirms, “The very same.”

Leaving them to chat amongst themselves, I face Jade.

“Hi,” she greets me, and I lift my hand, offering a small wave, instantly feeling like a dork.

You can’t even introduce yourself correctly.

“Eva,” I blurt, hoping I haven’t already ruined her first impression of me.

Jade studies me, and I feel like I’ve been tried and found wanting.

“Looks like we’ll be bunking together for the year,” I say, stating the obvious.

“We are,” Jade exclaims. “When I found out I was getting roomed with other volleyball players, I squealed.”

Jade’s cheeks flush red, a blush creeping down the column of her throat and across her chest.

“Sorry,” she rushes out. “I’m just really excited.”

She’s as nervous as I am. Maybe my earlier assessment of her was wrong. “Don’t apologize. I’m a bundle of nerves over here,” I offer, trying to make her feel more at ease.

A knock at the door draws my attention. Two more girls and their parents are standing in the hallway.

“It looks like our suite is full,” Jade leans in to whisper, but I’m too busy observing our roommates. The girl on my left has to be nearly six feet tall. Her blue-colored Havana twists hang past her ass hitting her toned copper thighs. My other suitemate’s curly black hair hangs loosely in a ponytail, contrasting with her emerald eyes and alabaster skin.

Our parents exchange more salutations while we all introduce ourselves. Cameil Watson, or Cammy as she likes to be called, and Paisley Norton are also on the volleyball team.

“Why don’t we head downstairs and let the girls get settled?” my mother suggests, prompting our parents to say their goodbyes and smush us with their hugs. Then the door clicks shut, leaving the four of us staring at each other.

“There’s a party tonight, and we all should go,” Jade exclaims, bursting through our suite door.

It’s the last night before move-in day for the rest of the students and the last thing I want to do is go out. The last two weeks have been both helpful and overwhelming between volleyball practice and new student orientation.

“Don’t you make that face, Eva Rose,” Jade orders. “We’ve been practicing for two weeks without one ounce of anything fun to do besides the first student activities we’ve been doing throughout orientation.”

“And what look is that?” I challenge.

Jade crosses her arms, plopping down on my bed as Cammy and Paisley exit their rooms.

“I’m sure it’s the ‘I don’t like to have a good time’ expression you always plaster on the minute any of us suggest we try to unwind,” Paisley quips.

“Yup, ‘the look’ is in rare form tonight,” Cammy adds.

Rolling my eyes, I retort, “No, the three of you are in rare form. I am my typical self.”

“That’s the problem,” Jade huffs. “It’s like you’re punishing yourself or something.”

If only they knew.

Would they still want to be friends with a murderer?

“Earth to Eva.” I blink, my eyes flitting around my room, seeing concerned looks on their faces.