It should be included in the folder, but the only things in there are my schedule and a book of rules I have no interest in reading. It’s like they’ve never had a new student before. I’ll need a map of this place in case I get lost trying to avoid the dead. The lady disappears from view, and I take a closer look at the pictures on the wall. I’m partly hopeful I’ll see a picture of the girl outside in one of the photos, but I don’t find her. The images are mostly of buildings on campus in their prime. Gold plates beneath the frames indicate the year they were built. My favorite is Rosewater—that sounds calming.

I run my fingers over the cold metal, tracing the name.

“You must be Anora Silby.” The voice is energetic and warm, but it startles me. I tear my hand away from the plate as if I’ve been caught stealing and yelp, twisting to find a boy standing beside me. He has striking blue eyes, white-blond hair, and sharp features. My gaze drops to his lips, which are initially pulled into a smile until I face him, then he falters.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

I study him for a moment—lively eyes, faint color in his cheeks, and…warmth. He’s definitely alive. I guess I stare too long, because he clears his throat and says, “Can I help you find your classes?”

“Oh…um…the lady was getting me a map.”

A smile stretches across his face again, brightening his expression. “I’m your map.” He extends his hand to me, keeping the other in his pocket. “Shy.”

I stare at his hand, confused—did he just call me shy?

“Excuse me?”

He chuckles under his breath. “It’s my name—Shy Savior.”

“Oh.” My cheeks flame, and I want to hide. I fumble as I cradle my folder in my arm and reach for his hand. “Anora Silby…er…I guess you knew that.”

“Yeah,” he breathes and then quickly adds, “But that’s okay. You have a nice name.”

He doesn’t move his gaze from mine as he shakes my hand firmly, and it is a little unnerving, especially since the pigment of his eyes is so concentrated.

“Um, are you going to let go of my hand?”

“Sorry.” He drops my hand and snakes his behind his neck. “It’s just…have we met?”

I laugh. “No. I think I would remember you.”

Shy smiles and turns the faintest shade of pink. “You just feel so familiar.”

“I hope I’m familiar in a good way.”

God. I’d have to say that, wouldn’t I? What am I doing?

I’m breaking my second rule: Absolutely no boys.

“Yes.” He narrows those gorgeous eyes, and my resolve weakens. “Yes, only in a good way.”