And then I remember that while I may be heading to Lockwood, what awaits me at the end of the night is a solo room in a building full of boys who, with a few exceptions beyond Matt and Salem, either glare at me, leer at me, or pretend I don’t exist.

As I enter the girls’ dorm, I’m not sure whether I hope Heather is already back or still out of sight—both seem like bad options—but I do hope that Sabrina, at least, is in their room. Sure enough, I hear the faint drifting of music down the hall as soon as I enter, and only one person on the first floor of Lockwood listens to emo covers of sea shanties.

“Sabrina Grayson!” I rap on her door, loudly enough to be heard over wailing about whaling. “Hang out with me!”

The door flies open, revealing my favorite goth in black sweatpants and a matching long-sleeved tee, an undeniable smirk on her face as she registers my presence. “I thought you were at the movie. On a date. With my brother. Which I cannot even begin to fathom.”

“God, how fast does gossip travel around here? You haven’t even left your room.” I let myself in and am relieved that Heather hasn’t somehow beaten me here. “And obviously we were not actually on a date.”

“Okay, well if you’re here to pick my brain for how to turn hanging out with my brother into something more, I have zero advice for you except to fully equip me with barf bags any time you two plan to be in my presence.” Then her expression twists into something more serious. “For real, though. I really, really hate to be lied to.”

“I’m not lying!”

“You’re literally wearing his jacket, Evie.”

Oh, right. It was so surprisingly comfortable, I’d forgotten I even had it on. “I asked to borrow it,” I admit. “I needed something to make my outfit more interesting.”

She looks like she wants to say something else, but thankfully, she thinks better of it and slides back down onto the fluffy pink rug instead. “Well, how was the movie?”

“Stupid. Mostly.” I close the door behind me and join her on the floor, where a pile of tarot cards sits next to a can of Dr Pepper and a laptop. “Do you read these?”

“I’m learning.” She gestures at the computer screen, and I see it’s open to a page on card readings. “Want me to read for you?”

Do I? I’m not in the best state of mind to hear I have a bleak future ahead, but given I’m here to turn my life around, I am impatient to know what the cards hold for me. “Please! But if it’s bad, can you lie to me a little? I have not had the best luck with, uh, this entire year.”