“Starling.”

“Wow, that’s such a cute name. My first college friend is a girl with a cute name, how cool is that?”

Forcing a smile to my lips I offer it in her direction, not slowing my pace, despite the fact that I can see she’s having to walk quicker than she’s comfortable with to keep up with me.

“What are your housemates like? There’s six other people in my house, three girls and three guys, they’re all couples. It’s odd, but okay. I heard a lot of sex noises last night,” she chirps.

“I haven’t met mine yet.”

“How come?”

“No one was there when I got here yesterday and I crashed pretty much as soon as I unpacked. They were still asleep when I left this morning.” I say with a shrug.

“That’s a shame, I bet they were all excited to meet you.”

Not speaking, I wait for her to walk away, but instead she stays at my side, carrying the conversation without me needing to speak as she prattles on about everything she’s excited about. When we reach the cafeteria and I grab a tray, she’s at my side, then we’re sitting at a table and I haven’t said a word in more than ten minutes, but I’m not sure she’s noticed.

“Shall I come to your place tonight, or do you want to come to mine?” she says and then pauses, smiling widely.

“What?” I splutter.

“For the party?”

“I’m not going to any party.”

Her lips part and her mouth falls open. “You have to go to the freshmen welcome party, everyone goes.”

“No thanks,” I say dismissively, cutting off a piece of French toast and lifting it to my lips.

Sammy’s talking but I’m not paying any attention as the feeling of being watched hits me again. That’s the third time since I got here yesterday that I’ve gotten the feeling of being observed and it’s starting to freak me out.

“Hey,” I interrupt.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I know I talk too much. I’m sorry, it’s just that I’m so nervous and excited,” she says, talking at a million miles a minute.

“Is there anyone looking over here?” I ask, interrupting her again.

“Like who?”

“I don’t know. I keep having this feeling like someone is watching me.”

“Oh I hate that,” she says, carefully glancing around the room. “I can’t see anyone, but it’s getting pretty busy in here now.”

For the first time since she appeared at my side, Sammy falls silent and I take a moment to actually look at her. Her hair is a rich black color, pinned up on top of her head in a high ponytail that swishes across her shoulders. She’s classically pretty, with warm-brown eyes and a smile that screams nice. She’s the type of person who I would probably have made friends with when I was younger, but now I feel too jaded and shuttered to be around her.

“I appreciate the invite, but I don’t like parties; truthfully I’m not really a big fan of people in general. I’m a loner without all the emo melancholy,” I say, trying to explain why I’m going to get up and leave in a minute and then never speak to her again. There’s a pang of longing for a friend in my chest, but I shut it down. Court was my ride or die, until she wasn’t, she threw me over for popularity and I’m still hurt by it. I have no interest in befriending a stranger.