I hadn’t been in my new place that long, but this room already seemed like a time capsule. Come to think of it, this was the first time I’d stepped into the room since I’d moved out. I wiped my finger in the dust on my dresser. Estelle made sure every room in the house was clean, except this one. What about Austin’s room?, I wondered. Did she do her Martha Stewart thing in there? Probably. She had different rules for the men in her life.

I realized that I hadn’t changed any of the furniture since seventh grade or so. I remembered sitting in that purple beanbag chair when Josh, the cornbread-gifter and the first boy who kissed me with tongue, broke up with me. I was fool enough to believe him when he made the excuse that his mom had told him he needed to work on his grades, keep his head clear, and stay away from girls if he wanted to pursue his supposed football career. But he started dating one of the popular girls the very next day. Word around school was that he had dumped me for her. Seventh grade really did a great job of inflating my insecurities. And, spoiler alert: Josh was now in and out of jail, not on a football field.

That beanbag chair was the indoor equivalent of the porch swing, full of drama and dreamy memories. There were a lot of teenage tears in that fabric—no wonder I have a visceral reaction today to the color purple.

The nightstand was stacked high with my old books. My econ textbook from senior year peeked out beneath a hardcover copy of You by Caroline Kepnes that was collecting dust. I had bought a second copy of You when I realized I’d left the original at my dad’s and didn’t want to go back there to retrieve it. Dad and Estelle hadn’t been married very long then, and I hated being around the newlyweds; I left every chance I got. That made two copies—three if you counted the audio. I bought that to hear the characters come to life in a voice other than my own. It was one of my favorite books and I was happy to keep a copy at both houses. It became one of the few stories that my dad and I both loved. I reached for it and cracked open the spine. I could use the distraction: YOU walk into the bookstore and you keep your hand on the door to make sure it doesn’t slam. You smile, embarrassed to be a nice girl...

When I heard the knock on the door, I nearly jumped out of my skin.

“Shit!”

“Karina?”

“WHAT?!” I sounded angry, like you do when you’re scared.

“Karina, are you okay?” It was Kael. “Can I come in?”