her. Sheâs 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 donât want to risk bumping into another annoying guy, but I also donât want to go back into Treenaâs room.
And Iâm in a hall of people I donât know. Great.
Down the hall thereâs a door to the stairs. Iâm hoping Treena was wrong when she said people make out there, because Iâm thinking thatâll 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 itâs muffled now, less in my faceâor ears. No one is here. Privacy.
I pull my phone from my back pocket and see that I have a message from Celine.
   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 Iâm here, alone, in a stairwell.
I think about Treena and wonder if this is whatâs 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. Iâd rather not go up there and interrupt again. She doesnât answer, so I wait longer, letting the noise filter in. I donât really feel like going back up there to talk to people I donât 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 shouldnât hanging out with me be more important?
I hear footsteps coming up the stairs and consider movingâbut to where? I start texting Celine again so I donât look like a loser girl hiding.
âAvoiding the party?â a voice asks me. I look over andsee the stair climber approaching. Heâs skinny, with curly, dark brown hair, and is holding a notebook in one hand. âOh, sorry, thought you were someone else. Wait, youâre Treenaâs friend, right? I saw your picture in her room; she said you were coming to visit.â
âYeah,â I say, offering a clipped answer, and wondering if heâs going to invite me to his room, too, just like the others. I usually donât mind talking to strangers, but right now Iâm just not in the mood.
âWhatâre you doing out here?â he asks.
âPhone,â I say, waving my phone up.
âWeâre making that great of an impression on you so far?â he asks, and sits against the wall next to me, one step lower.
âQuite.â Iâm not really sure what to say next.
âYou know, Iâve nearly slept on these stairs. I wouldnât recommend it, theyâre kind of uncomfortable.â
I take the bait. âWhyâd you nearly sleep here?â
âMy roommate had a girl over, and I really didnât want to stay in there while they were . . . you know . . . um, in there.â
âThatâs kind of where Iâm at right now.â
âWait,â he says, furrowing his brow. âTreena isââ
âNO!â I gasp, remembering that he knows her. âNo, no, but she is hanging out with a guy in there.â
âI see. So youâre kind of room-less?â
âI guess.â Iâm assuming heâs hinting, so I say,
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