She couldn’t text back, not in school, but she’d get the message on the way home. He wished he were in school, where everything was familiar and comforting.
Harry walked up to the main door of the dorm building, the cop’s eyes still on him. He could feel them. Could the cop tell he didn’t belong? Nothing about this place felt right. It was too big, too overwhelming. Twenty-one thousand students here according to the brochure. He would be lost among twenty-one thousand. Just another hyped-up, ticcing kid.
He stared at the keypad on the door. Oh.
“Hey,” a girl with glasses said. She stopped and swiped her student ID, then pushed the door open. “Need help?”
“I’m supposed to be on a tour, but I lost my friend. I thought he might have followed the noise.”
Something passed over her face. He must have started ticcing. At least she didn’t ask what was wrong.
“I’m a high school student visiting from North”—throat clearing; yup, he was definitely ticcing—“Carolina. Sorry, I have Tourette syndrome.”
She shrugged. “That’s cool. What does your friend look like?”
“A punk. With dyed black hair and blue nail polish. Can’t miss him.”
“Come on, let’s have a look.”
He followed her up the stairs, and she chatted away. Was she flirting? He almost said, I have a girlfriend. Then realized that would sound stupid.
“What’s going on in here?” Harry nodded at the packed dorm room.
“Pregame fever. I was supposed to meet someone.” She gave a cursory glance around, as if she didn’t much care whether she found the person or not. “Guess he’s not here, either.”
Harry wasn’t sure what to say, so he shrugged.
She juggled the books she was carrying onto her hip. “I have half an hour till my next class. Want to go grab a coffee, and you can pepper me with questions about Harvard?” She gave a really big smile. A great smile. Not as great as Sammie’s, though.
Why not? He’d come this far. Was he really prepared to walk away without even completing the tour? “I just have to t-”—Harry cleared his throat—“text my friend.”
“It’s got to be hard.”
“What?” Harry typed fast: where r u
“Doing college visits with Tourette’s. Trying to blend in and be anonymous when people stare.”
“People have been staring at me since I was a toddler. Doesn’t really bother me anymore. My mom taught me that the people who stare and make rude comments are the ones with issues. Not me.”
“Good for your mom. I have a brother with cerebral palsy. People stare at him all the time. When I was younger, I hated being out in public with him.”
“Maybe people were staring because you’re beautiful.”
Shit, why had he said that? This place—had to be this place making him all twitchy. “I didn’t mean that in a creepy way. I have a girlfriend. But I don’t always self-edit. It might be a Tourette’s thing.”
She held out her hand. “I’m Annie.”
He took it. “Harry.” Wow. College was going to be tough for him and Sammie. So many hot girls. And she would be surrounded by just as many hot guys at NC State. Where the hell was Max?
“Come on. Let’s get out of here.” Annie led the way back down the stairs; he followed. Like a lemming.
“Where’re we going?” Harry said. “I need to tell my friend.”
“What are you interested in for a major?”
“Psychology.”
“We’ll go to the café in the Science Center, then. The psychology building is straight down the road from there. I can show you.”
“Cool. Thanks.”
“No problem.”
His phone made its clown noise.
Went for a piss, Max texted. Came back, and you’d gone.
meet me in the café in the science building
You ditched the tour? Max typed back.
yup