“These will be mine,” Lucy said of the two beds. A statement, not a question.

One look at her roommate’s clothes, and Maddie knew they were expensive. She’d seen at least two of the exact same sweaters on the girls in her private Cambridge high school. It wasn’t that Maddie couldn’t afford them, it was simply that she didn’t care to. Ripped jeans that didn’t require a crowbar to get into, simple black tees that masked smudges from Danny’s sticky fingers, and loose hoodies with pockets that hid everything from a few extra pounds courtesy of a Saturday Rib-It Festival in Inman Square to her tablet for spontaneous sketching were the extent of Maddie’s fashion requirements.

Her computer was a different story. Her art translated to her business, which translated to Danny. Even state-of-the-art was a step behind.

She slid her ultra-sleek, mega-powered laptop out of her messenger bag, attached the extender cable to the charger, and plugged it into the wall before climbing to the top bunk on the opposite side of the room. For the first time since she crossed the threshold, she breathed in air that didn’t reek of lavender.

She texted Danny at camp.

Maddie: Don’t feed the sharks.

He quickly wrote back. Too quickly?

Danny: It’s a lake. Sharks don’t live in lakes.

Maddie: Because people don’t feed them.

Danny: Maddie!

Maddie: Danny!

Maddie: Settling in okay?

Was he unhappy? Already?

Danny: I guess.

Danny: Someone smells like feet.

Maddie: Same here. Except feet doused in lavender.

Maddie: You’d think it makes it better. It doesn’t.

Maddie: Mom call?

Danny: She texted. You?

She hadn’t.

Maddie: Same.

“Don’t you think?” Lucy was staring at her, awaiting a response to a question Maddie hadn’t even heard.

Maddie gave a shrug and a head bobble, then returned to Danny.

Maddie: Gotta go before new roomie ropes me into designing an app for butt facials.

Maddie: Miss you.

Danny:

Danny: Five, right?

Maddie: These weeks will fly faster than a pterodactyl.

Danny:

“Because Ryan Thompson thought there was a glitch.” Lucy’s raised voice broke through Maddie’s ability to tune others out, which she’d honed thanks to her parents. “He actually said that. Which means I totally look like someone at a higher level and . . .”

Maddie:

She unearthed her four-leaf clover necklace from beneath her sweatshirt and held on tight. She should probably get off the bed, unpack, talk to this Lucy girl for a second—or at the very least try to get this Lucy girl to stop talking for a second. Instead, Maddie retreated farther into the corner of the bunk. Sharing a room was going to suck as much as she’d thought it would.