Page 1 of Begin Again
Chapter 1
White.
I stared at the nameplate by the doorbell. Tilting my head, I lifted my finger, then hesitated. I clenched my hand into a fist. The drama of the last few days rushed through my head all over again.
Weeks of fighting with my parents. One thousand seven hundred miles. A twenty-four-hour drive. It was all behind me now. I’d arrived in Woodshill two nights ago, crashing in a run-down hostel. For the first few hours I’d fought the urge to turn back. But now things were clear.
Because I’d made it.I was here.
Actually, things hadn’t exactly started out as expected. Of course I’d had a glimpse of my new home from a distance; it was like I already knew the mountains of Oregon, the endless forests, and even the university campus, thanks to the Internet. Yesterday was freshman orientation on campus, and then I went to check out some apartments I’d found online. It turned out to be a waste of time, because they were all complete dumps. But I didn’t care. I had arrived in Oregon.
Freedom.
It was the only thing that had kept me going these past few months. Now I could start my own life, do things the way I wanted. The past nineteen years had been so damned suffocating.
To my parents, appearances were everything. My hair was colored to fade into the perfect golden ombré, and I wore only the best labels. Chanel. Hermès. Saint Laurent. I could flash a charming smile practically at the touch of a button. I had to be perfect little daughter—or at least look the part. So that’s why my first act as a college student had been to hit up the nearest beauty salon for a drastic cut and color. No more long, blonde tresses: Now my cheeks were framed with unruly brown fringes. For the first time in years, I kept my own natural wave. Mom wouldn’t have approved.
Every time my short-cropped hair tickled my cheeks, it reminded me that I was finally allowed to be me. It was my first step toward freedom, and even if it seems silly, I felt like an entirely new person.
Unfortunately even my new style hadn’t helped much with the apartment search. Unlike most incoming freshmen, I hadn’t applied for a place in the dorms—I wanted to be out on my own.
But the clock was ticking. Only a handful of apartments were still available, and I could write them all off as total disasters.
At the first one, my potential roommate was more interested in my bra size than in my bad habits. Gross. Just the thought of that pervert gives me the creeps. Then there was the young mother who not only wanted a roommate but also a live-in babysitter. Not much better. At apartment number six, I met a couple who were practically going at it during my visit—and asked me to join in. All the other places were either trashed or contaminated with mold. Somehow, I’d thought finding a place would be easier.
Which is probably why I couldn’t bring myself to ring the last doorbell of the day. The letters on the nameplate were illuminated from behind, and burned into my retinas.
White.
This was it. There weren’t any other available apartments near campus. If I couldn’t move in here next week, I’d be out on the street. Everything else seemed to be booked out for the start of the school year.
I needed this place. I didn’t even care that I’d be rooming with a guy, because if I didn’t get this place, I’d have to find a park bench for the start of the semester, or make a cozy little home in my car. Whatever happened, no way was I going back to Lincoln, Nebraska. Never. I was starting over here, whatever the cost. And if I had to spend a few nights in the open air, so be it. Anything but Nebraska.
I pressed the doorbell and waited, inhaling the warm evening air. I hardly noticed the pressure rising in my chest.
One, two, three…
Inhale. Exhale. Breathe. I counted to myself and squeezed my eyes shut.
Finally the buzzer sounded to let me in. I took another breath before pushing the door open.
Mr. White—I didn’t know his first name at that point—had mentioned in his email that the apartment was on the second floor, left. As I set foot on the stairs, I heard a door open upstairs and then the sound of muffled voices.
“You’ve got my number,” a female voice purred.
Someone cleared his throat. “You know that I… ”
“Nothing serious, I get it. You made that perfectly clear.”
Followed by a slurpy sound.Were they making out in the hallway?I listened more closely. Before I knew it, footsteps from above were approaching me on the stairway.
A light breeze wafted over me, and I looked up: She passed me on the stairs, the girl who’d left the apartment that I was about to enter. She didn’t seem to see me as she floated down the stairs with a blissful, dreamy smile. Considering her reddened cheeks and tousled hair, I could imagine what she’d just been up to.
Oh man.
Frowning, I climbed the last few steps. Mr. White was nowhere to be seen. I walked down the corridor and looked to either side. On my left, a door stood open a crack. That had to be it.
I pushed the door in and hesitated at the threshold.
