Nate’s parents showed no outward sign, but Stevie saw her parents take it in. Her father looked away. Her mom’s mouth twisted into a small, confused grin.

“Let me show you what I did to my room,” she said, hooking one parent by each arm and hustling them down the hall.

“What in God’s name was that girl wearing?” her mother asked, a little too loudly, as Stevie shut the door of her room behind them.

“I’ve never seen anything like that getup before,” her dad added.

Stevie’s parents labored under the belief that what a person was wearing had a direct correlation to their worth as a human being. There were normal clothes (good), and there were nice clothes (very good), and there was everything else. Ellie had just reset the limits on this last category.

“Did you like the campus?” Stevie said, smiling. “Isn’t it amazing?”

That the campus was amazing was undeniable, and her parents made a clear effort not to dwell on Ellie and instead focus on this mountain paradise of mansions and fountains and art and natural beauty.

“We’re going to have to head back soon,” her dad said. “Are you . . . set?”

On that, Stevie had an entirely unexpected emotional pang. Her parents were about to leave, which was something she had known about and frankly wanted, but now in the moment, there was a hot rush of feeling. She gulped hard.

“Okay,” her mother said. “You have your pills? Let’s just put eyes on the pills.”

Stevie’s plastic bag of medications was produced and examined.

“You have a hundred and twenty Lexapro and thirty Ativan, but only take the Ativan if you need it.”

“I know.”

“But if you need it, make sure . . .”

“Mom, I know . . .”

“I know you know. And you call us every day.”

“You be good,” her dad said, hugging her hard. “You need us, you call. Doesn’t matter the time.”

Her father looked genuinely on the verge of tears. This was the worst. Bells did not cry. Bells did not show feeling. This had to stop.

“Remember,” her mother said into her ear, “you can always come home. We’ll come up and get you.”

Her mother’s final little squeeze said, This isn’t the kind of place you belong. You’ll see. You’ll be back.

5

AFTER A FEW MOMENTS OF NOT CRYING (BUT A LOT OF BLINKING) AND staring at her medications before stashing them in a drawer, Stevie emerged from her room to find that Janelle Franklin had arrived, and Nate was nowhere to be seen. Janelle was shorter than Stevie had pictured. She wore a red floral romper and her braided hair was wrapped in a scarf of yellows and golds. She wore a light, summery perfume that trailed in the air behind her as she hurried over to wrap Stevie in a hug.

“We’re here!” she said, clasping Stevie’s arms. “We’re here! Are your parents here?”

“They left a few minutes ago. Are yours . . . ?”

“No,” Janelle said. “They’re both on call today, so we did all my good-byes this week—family dinners and friends, we had a picnic . . .” Janelle happily chatted about the many events that had led up to her departure. She came from a big family in Chicago and around Illinois. She had three brothers, two in MIT and one at Stanford. Her parents were both doctors.

“Come see my room!” She grabbed Stevie by the wrist and led her next door, to a very similar room, but with everything flipped around. Their fireplaces were back to back.

“I’m probably going to need more space to build on,” Janelle said, “but I think I can use that table in the common room. Pix said I could solder out there. Can you believe we’re here?”

“I know,” Stevie said. “I feel kind of dizzy.”

“I think that might be altitude,” Janelle said. “We’re not super high. The highest point in Vermont is only forty-three hundred feet, and altitude should really become an issue at five thousand, but you may still need to compensate for the lower oxygen levels by drinking a little extra water. Here.”

She opened her bag and removed a fresh bottle of water, which she pressed into Stevie’s hand.

“I think I’m just nervous,” Stevie said.

“Also possible. Water is still the answer. And deep, slow breathing. Drink.”

Stevie opened the bottle and took a long sip, as instructed. Water never hurt.

“Is Nate here?” Janelle asked.

“He was. I guess he went upstairs.”

“How is he in person?”

“Kind of like he seemed in his messages,” Stevie said.

“Well, we’re here in person now. Come on. Let’s go see him.”

Janelle had entirely changed the energy of the place. She was movement, she was action. Stevie found herself carried along in Janelle’s wake as she hurried down the hall and up the tight circular stairs. Nate was in Minerva Four, the first one along the hall. The door was shut but he could be heard moving inside.

Janelle knocked. When there was no immediate answer, she texted.

A moment later, the door opened a bit and Nate’s long face appeared. He didn’t do anything for a moment, and then, with a barely audible sigh, he opened the door enough to let them in.

“Do you do hugs?” Janelle said.

“Not really,” Nate replied, moving back.

“Then no hug it is,” Janelle said.

“How about salutes?” Stevie said.

“Those are tolerable.”

Stevie gave him a salute.

Nate’s room was more or less identical to theirs, except it was already a mess. There was a rat’s nest of cables on the floor, and a pile of books. He’d been organizing his books, just like Stevie had.

“The Wi-Fi here sucks,” he said, by means of a greeting. “Cell signal too.”

He kicked at the pile of cords with a Converse-clad foot.

“I haven’t tried yet,” Stevie said.

“Well, it sucks.”

The box nearest to Stevie looked to be full of . . . parts. Just parts of things. Chair legs. Some kind of metal disk. Janelle went over and had a look at it.

“What’s this?” she asked. “Do you build too?”

Nate swooped down on the box defensively.

“I go to . . . flea markets,” he said, waving his hand as if this was just something that needed to be dealt with. “I collect things. I like clocks. And stuff.”

He closed the box lid, and with it, any invitation for further comment.

Stevie enjoyed Janelle’s brisk, confident positivity and she also liked Nate’s grumpy demeanor. She had a little bit of both of these qualities, and she fit between them very comfortably.

“Tour’s starting!” Pix called up the stairs. “They’re waiting outside! Come on, you guys!”

Nate looked hesitant, but Janelle was not giving up.

“I think it’s mandatory,” she said.

Janelle, Nate, and Stevie made their way outside where a large group of people was milling around in wait. Hayes and Ellie, being second years, obviously did not have to go.

It looked like the group went from house to house collecting members, and Minerva may have been the last stop. Stevie looked at her fellow first years. She wasn’t quite sure what she had expected—if she thought the students at Ellingham would all show up wearing lab coats, or they would all look like Ellie.