The Accidentals(37)

My father turns on the charm and asks Aurora the questions that I’m still too nervous to stammer out. “Are you a senior as well?”

“Sí!” Then she laughs. “It will take me a couple of days to get used to speaking English again. I am transferring from my Spanish school for senior year. My father wants me to get into Harvard.”

“Ah,” Frederick says. “Like me.”

“Really?” Aurora squeals.

“Joking!” He beams. “I went to Claiborne up the road, where I majored in music and parental disappointment. But I think you and Rachel are on a different track.”

I’m busy inspecting our room, which has wood floors and funky old windows.

“Look!” Aurora grasps my wrist. “This eez a very nice room. They put the desks out here in the common room…” She darts through a doorway. “and the beds in here.”

I follow Aurora into another little room, where there are two narrow metal beds set in an “L” shape.

“I did not make up a bed yet. I thought you could choose.”

“Oh, that’s nice of you,” I stammer, tongue-tied. Over Aurora’s head, my father is smiling. His face says: See? This is going to be okay.

“What do you think?”

“Either one,” I say.





After verifying that my boxes have arrived from California, Frederick leaves. “Walk me out for a second,” he says, ducking into the stairwell.

I follow him down the stairs and into the courtyard, where dusk is deepening the sky.

“It’s still okay with you if I look at houses?” he asks.

“Yeah.” He’s picked the right time to ask, because at this moment it’s all I can do to keep from clinging to him like a life preserver.

“I want to get out of L.A. and this place is really out of the way. Hard to say whether I’ll find a decent house, but I’ll look.”

“Okay. Sure?”

“I’ll poke around and see what I find. Now, you and the roomie have some fun before the homework starts up.”

“Right.”

“Text me tomorrow for proof of life.” He winks and turns away.

“Wait.” I surprise myself. I’m just not ready to see him go.

He turns back.

“What are you going to do this week?”

“Look at real estate listings,” he says. “Watch the first football game of the season. YouTube. Beer. Chips.” He gives me a searching look. “Everything okay?”

“Yup.” I swallow. “G’night.”

Frederick laughs, but I don’t know why. Then he takes three steps forward and puts his hands on my shoulders. He dips his chin and gives me a quick kiss on the forehead. “Go have fun,” he says quietly. “I’ll see you before I have to go back to Cali.” He gives my shoulders a squeeze and then backs away, a patient smile on his face.

I turn around and march back up the stairs.





Aurora and I spend the next couple of hours arranging our belongings. We put our desks next to one another, leaving one wall of our living room empty.

We also have a generous window seat above an old radiator. “It would be nice to find a cushion to put here,” I muse, running my hand along the dark wooden seat.

“Si! Also, we need a rug,” Aurora says. “And some beanbag chairs. From Ceramic Barn, maybe?”

“Pottery Barn?” I guess.

“Yes! We will order tomorrow.” She claps her hands. “And now we’ll go out to meet people. There’s a list of activities…”

She grabs a sheet of paper off her desk and scans it. But I’m perfectly happy staying here where it’s safe. Meeting one new person feels like a good first-day quota.

“Ice cream social at nine,” she says. “That’s perfect. What shall we do before?” She hands over the list.

“Touch-football is not happening,” I grumble, reading the first item. There’s a tour of the school’s arts facilities starting in ten minutes. That sounds low-key enough.

But then I spot something even more promising.

“I wouldn’t mind going to this,” I say, pointing at one of the last items on the list. “It’s just starting.”

Aurora peers over my shoulder. “Telescope Talk? Really?”

“Doesn’t that sound nice?” The description reads: Public viewing hours at the Claiborne telescope. Student astronomers show you the stars.

“Do you love the science?” Aurora asks. She makes a face. “It will take me a few days to remember English.”

“Your English is fine. Science isn’t really my thing, but my Claiborne summer pen pal likes it.”

My new roommate studies me with smiling eyes. “Is this astronomer a boy, perhaps?”

“Well, sure.”

Her grin breaks free.

“But it’s not like that,” I say quickly.

“Ah.” She hooks an arm in mine. “Let’s go find this pen pal. He is hot?”

“No idea,” I admit. “But he sure is nice.”





The school telescope is located on top of a brick, castle-like monument on a hill behind the dorms. We walk the last hundred yards in near darkness.