Autofocus by Lauren Gibaldi Page B

her. She’s been kissed before, of course, but not like that, at least not that I knew of. I cover my mouth with my hand, suppressing a laugh, and just shake my head.
    I take a step down the hall and realize I have no idea where to go, and no one to talk to now. I don’t want to risk bumping into another annoying guy, but I also don’t want to go back into Treena’s room.
    And I’m in a hall of people I don’t know. Great.
    Down the hall there’s a door to the stairs. I’m hoping Treena was wrong when she said people make out there, because I’m thinking that’ll be a good place to go for a while, giving Tree her space. I make my break quickly, and press on the metal door, entering silence from a world of noise.
    I sit down on the concrete steps and lean against the cool wall, taking a deep breath. The music is still outside, but it’s muffled now, less in my face—or ears. No one is here. Privacy.
    I pull my phone from my back pocket and see that I have a message from Celine.
    Â Â Â  Have fun @ college!
    Maybe it is more like she said it would be, and less of what I expected. I wanted a week of me and Treena reconnecting, and finding out about my mother together. I wanted it to be like old times. But I guess things change. And I’m here, alone, in a stairwell.
    I think about Treena and wonder if this is what’s supposed to happen in college. If moving away means moving into a new role, a new you. My life has been so controlled, so defined, I never thought of going in a different direction. I wonder how my mother acted in college.
    I fiddle with my phone and check Twitter, my blog, my email. About ten minutes go by and I text Treena. I’d rather not go up there and interrupt again. She doesn’t answer, so I wait longer, letting the noise filter in. I don’t really feel like going back up there to talk to people I don’t know without her.
    As the minutes go by, I start getting irritated. With Treena. With myself. I should have made her stay with me, not go off with him. And she should have wanted to stay with me. Why did she sneak off with him? I mean, I know why, but shouldn’t hanging out with me be more important?
    I hear footsteps coming up the stairs and consider moving—but to where? I start texting Celine again so I don’t look like a loser girl hiding.
    â€œAvoiding the party?” a voice asks me. I look over andsee the stair climber approaching. He’s skinny, with curly, dark brown hair, and is holding a notebook in one hand. “Oh, sorry, thought you were someone else. Wait, you’re Treena’s friend, right? I saw your picture in her room; she said you were coming to visit.”
    â€œYeah,” I say, offering a clipped answer, and wondering if he’s going to invite me to his room, too, just like the others. I usually don’t mind talking to strangers, but right now I’m just not in the mood.
    â€œWhat’re you doing out here?” he asks.
    â€œPhone,” I say, waving my phone up.
    â€œWe’re making that great of an impression on you so far?” he asks, and sits against the wall next to me, one step lower.
    â€œQuite.” I’m not really sure what to say next.
    â€œYou know, I’ve nearly slept on these stairs. I wouldn’t recommend it, they’re kind of uncomfortable.”
    I take the bait. “Why’d you nearly sleep here?”
    â€œMy roommate had a girl over, and I really didn’t want to stay in there while they were . . . you know . . . um, in there.”
    â€œThat’s kind of where I’m at right now.”
    â€œWait,” he says, furrowing his brow. “Treena is—”
    â€œNO!” I gasp, remembering that he knows her. “No, no, but she is hanging out with a guy in there.”
    â€œI see. So you’re kind of room-less?”
    â€œI guess.” I’m assuming he’s hinting, so I say,