3. That I’ve spent two hours getting ready to go develop my pictures with Drew.

What is wrong with me? I mean, it’s just developing pictures. I look at myself critically in the mirror. I’m wearing a pair of dark flare jeans that I borrowed from Kelly and a blue-and-white striped sweater that shows off my chest. I blow-dried my hair until it was wicked straight, then used the curling iron to create loose waves around my shoulders. I borrowed a pair of huge silver hoop earrings from Jasmine, and high black shoes from Simone. What the girl was doing with a pair of hooker shoes like these, I don’t know. Ever since she started liking James, she’s been dressing decidedly more slutty.

I check my reflection one more time before heading to the living room, where Drew’s waiting for me.

“Ready?” he asks.

“Not really,” I say.

“Got your camera?” I hold it up hesitantly. I grab my coat off the stand by the door and follow him outside.

“Are you scared yet?” he asks as we walk to the photo lab.

“No, of course not,” I tell him, trying to sound flippant. I bury my hands further into my puffy red jacket. Grant was right—it is a little chilly out today, even more so now that the sun has gone down. It seems like overnight the weather got cooler, even though it’s barely October. Figures that I’m in Syracuse, which has some of the highest snowfalls in the country, while Corey’s in Florida.

“That’s good,” Drew says. He glances at me out of the corner of his eye.

“What?” I say. “Why are you looking at me like that? I’m not scared.” The truth is, I’m terrified. I want to run back to the house screaming. I look down at my camera and wonder if it’s too late to drop the course. It’s easy to drop courses, isn’t it? People do it all the time. You just get a slip and have the professor sign it. If you do it before the add/drop deadline, it doesn’t even appear on your record.

“I know you’re not scared,” Drew says, trying to hide his smile. “You already said that.”

“I know,” I say. “It’s because I’m not. So I don’t know why we’re still talking about it.”

“Me neither,” Drew says, opening the door to the art building and following me up the stairs to the photo lab. He’s wearing a navy blue Syracuse College baseball hat, and his face is a little scruffy, like he hasn’t shaved today. The door starts to shut behind us, and Jim, Drew’s personal cameraman and the one who’s been assigned to shadow us, grabs it right before it hits him in the face. Drew and I giggle.

“Sorry, man,” Drew says to Jim. “I forgot you were there.” Jim says nothing, but looks a little perturbed.