Only after I had taken all of this in did my eyes fall on her.

Noelle Daniels was sitting in the window, one foot standing on the sill, the other dangling outside like she had a death wish.

Her skin was a rich brown that, illuminated by the lamp on her desk, glowed golden, but that was all I could tell about her: the springy dark curls falling into her face made it impossible for me to see her features as she lifted the cigarette between her fingers to her lips, and she didn’t react to the door opening. Sitting by the open window with lightning flashing and rain pouring behind her, unimpressed and unblinking, she looked like an avenging angel.

Only when Amelia cleared her throat behind me did Noelle turn her head. In a voice that was deeper than I had expected, she said, “What is it, Amanda?”

“Amelia. My name is Amelia. You know that,” Amelia hissed and pushed past me. “Oh my God, is that a cigarette?”

“No, Amanda. Why would you think that?” Noelle flicked ashes onto the windowsill.

“Put that out right this second, Daniels. Your new roommate is here. Can’t you at least pretend to be interested?”

“I suppose I could, couldn’t I?” she mused, glancing my way.

Suddenly overly conscious of my soaked state, I crossed my arms in front of my chest, aware that my hair was matted across my forehead and I was dripping onto the hardwood floor. In anyone else’s face, Noelle’s chocolate brown eyes, framed by long lashes, would have looked warm and comforting; however, as they slowly raked me up and down, a shiver that had nothing to do with the gust of cold air blowing through the open window ran down my spine.

Surprisingly, Noelle was the first one to look away, but the expression on her face made it clear the reason wasn’t that I had beat her in the staring contest—she had simply lost interest.

Lazily waving a hand in my direction, she said, “You know, there is a question I have. What the fuck is she doing here?”

“She lives here with you now. Didn’t you hear me?”

“Not what I meant, Amanda. I remember clearly telling Whitworth not to bring another girl in here. So: What. Is. She.

Doing. Here?”

“Evelyn will be living here,” Amelia repeated. “Your hissy fits won’t change that.”

Noelle took another long drag from her cigarette before stubbing it out on the windowsill and tossing it outside. “We’ll see about that.”

“A map of the school grounds and additional information are on your bed, Evelyn,” Amelia curtly said, fed up with the point-less discussion. “Breakfast begins at seven. Good luck with her.”

I gave an uncertain nod, fighting the childish urge to cling onto her sleeve and beg her not to leave. When the door had fallen shut behind her and I turned back around, Noelle was sliding off the windowsill, not even looking at me anymore.