I leaned an inch closer to Ruthie, our shoulders nearly touching. “What’s an RA?” I whispered, as Brigid pattered on, explaining how each RA has a very specific role here at Covenant University.

“They’re narcs,” Ruthie whispered back, staring at them with the kind of slitted eyes of someone burned.

“We’re so excited to talk to y’all about the Covenant Code! It’s really the thing that sets our school, and our community, apart. It’s probably part of the reason you chose Covenant over all your other prospects. It’s a really special part of our identity, and it’s such an honor to introduce more people to our special way of life here.” She paused, again, but this time it seemed like she was waiting for applause or something. When none came, she glanced behind her at Lucy—or Marie, I missed who was who—and then back to the crowd. “So, if everyone can open your folders, we’ll get started!”

Brigid joked that the rules of the Covenant Code were written in stone on the back of the Ten Commandments and, for a second, it seemed like she genuinely believed it.

She opened to the first page and started reading. “‘Students are responsible for memorizing and following the Covenant Code. Students are also responsible to notify Resident Assistants’—” she looked up and smiled “—that’s us—‘of anything they believe to be a violation of the Covenant Code by other students. Intentionally not reporting a violation is, itself, a violation. The university reserves the right to adjust this document, formally or informally, at any time to ensure fairness and a homogenized university environment.’” She paused and glanced at us. “Everybody got that?” The room nodded in unison, and I did, too.

“Great,” she continued. “Now, while this is by no means contractual, all members of the community are asked to profess our maxim. You guys see it?” She waited a beat and Ruthie’s nail-bitten finger, the cuticles mauled to crusty red nubs, moved to the last line of the page, bolded and italicized at the bottom.

I’d already memorized this. Months ago. It was the only reason my parents allowed me to go to college. I didn’t choose Covenant; Covenant was my only option. It was the only college I applied to because it was the only one my parents would approve of. The only college whose modernity and forward thinking wouldn’t scare them because there was none of that here. The only college that would convince them I’d get the exact same education they’d been giving me through homeschooling all these years. Now that I was here, out of my parents’ house, I could do whatever I wanted—be whomever I wanted. I just needed to get here first. And now I needed to stay. So I memorized the mantra. Because you have to know the rules to successfully break them.