“You’re late,” she tells me when I walk into her office.

“Apologies.”

I take the designated seat on the couch across from her chair. She never sits at a desk. She wants students to feel relaxed, which is why her office is decorated like a living room with worn furniture, lamps, and knickknacks.

“It’s fine. I have my lunch break after this, we’ll recover the ten minutes at the end.”

I don’t argue with her, don’t have the heart to make her job any harder than it already is. Ms. Duval always seemed to be able to level with students. Even when I was young, she treated me with more respect than I probably deserved.

“What’s with the books?”

She’s referring to the stack I set on the couch beside me.

“I need to go to the library after this. I’ve hoarded these in my room over the last year. I’m sure the librarian wants them back.”

She studies them, seeming impressed with the selection. “I didn’t realize you were such a voracious reader.”

I shrug. “It helps pass the time.”

She laughs. “You sound like a prisoner.”

I raise a brow as if to say, Aren’t I?

She smiles and slips her reading glasses off her nose, folds them in her hand. “So how have you been?”

“Great.”

“How about stress levels? It’s not uncommon for graduating seniors to experience a great deal of worry about the transition to college.”

“When did you suddenly become a shrink? I thought this exit interview was meant to be about you telling me what courses to take in college, ensuring I’m on the right track with school. My stress levels are fine. Worry?” I shrug. “Nowhere in sight.”

She seems amused. “You don’t need input in that area. You’ve managed to achieve perfect grades while at St. John’s. Becoming the valedictorian of your graduating class is no small accomplishment, and you were accepted into every Ivy you applied to”—I open my mouth, but she doesn’t let me butt in—“and though you might credit your accomplishments to your family’s name, I have no doubt you would have achieved similar results even without your father’s influence. I think you’re all set in the academic department.”

I start to stand. “Then if you’ll excuse—”

“Sit.”

I sigh and take my seat again.

She waits for me to realize this meeting is going to happen whether I want it to or not, and when I finally meet her gaze, she gives me a small, reassuring smile.

“This is our last meeting, Emmett. In college, you’ll become one of many. It’s easy to get lost. I don’t want that for you.”

“I assure you, I’ll be fine.”

“Humor me for a moment.”

It takes everything in me not to groan.

“Where do you see yourself after college?”

“Working for my father’s business.”

“And does that prospect make you happy?”

Happiness…what the hell is that?

“Sure.”

“There are sports clubs at Princeton—”

I’m quick to cut her off. “I’m attending college in Paris.”