She pours their notes—a pile almost three times the size of ours—into the inbox and then asks me to help her find mine. I tell her it’s a llama, which she nabs easily, but then everyone wants to see it, and the other girls crowd around. I’m a mini-celebrity for more than just my newness, and for the first time since I got here, I’m in my element. One of her fellow RAs, a girl whose fierce sea glass eyes counteract the doll-like effect of her Shirley Temple ringlets, says I should take art the rest of the semester. To my surprise, even Gordo acknowledges the llama, muttering, “Cool, man.”

A mustachioed man in a sweater vest set steps into the lobby and whistles. This is the dean, and we haven’t even formally met since he was teaching Christian Entrepreneurship when I was moving in. “Time to break up the lovefest,” he calls, and the girl RAs scoop up their trove to leave. As guys begin to fan out back to their respective halls, he calls me over. “Silverthorn,” he starts, and for a moment, I look for my English teacher. Oh right. Me.

“Most of the good campus jobs are obviously taken since it’s May, but you can do anything for a month, right? The two industries left are broom shop or cutlery.”

I can’t answer his question because the word month hits me. I have been rolling with the punches since I got here, but a month of playacting in this painfully retro-present? I don’t know if I can. And what if it’s more than a month? What if it’s years? I feel dizzy.

“You with me, Silverthorn?”

“Yes, sir, … dean. I guess … cutlery?”

What in hell is a cutlery job?

“Good, good.” He eyes me quizzically, trying to decide if I’m okay. “You hanging in there? This is a big adjustment and I hear you have a lot going on.”

“Yeah … I’m just …”

He gives my shoulder a squeeze, having heard enough, and tells me he’s really glad I’m here, a meaningless sentiment that is also his exit line. But as he walks away, he has one last thing to add: “Get to your room. Break’s over.”

From my bed, I can see the sky. The Big Dipper sits where it always does, scooping up a ladleful of universe. That helps a little.