I feel a silky blue skirt. “Uh-huh.”

“Would that be something you’d be interested in?” Vanessa asks.

“What?”

“Would you consider being my roommate?” she asks, chewing her lip. “Kelsey and her crazy cousin, Iggy, will be in the other bedroom.”

“I didn’t know Kelsey had a cousin Iggy.”

“It’s her stepdad’s niece. Apparently their parents are insisting on them being roommates.”

I stare across the store at Kelsey. She’s browsing through a rack of dresses, throwing confused glances my way. I doubt she likes hanging around me any more than I like being around her.

On the one hand, I don’t relish the idea of ending up sharing a dorm room with a crazy girl who sports a faux hawk and plays the accordion or something. I also like the idea of starting anew. But being with Kelsey doesn’t feel new. It feels like reawakening something I want to forget.

When I look up into Vanessa’s eyes, they are kind and waiting for an answer.

“That could be good,” I choke out.

“So you’ll think about it?” She sounds excited. Truth be told, the idea kind of excites me too. It also terrifies me.

“Don’t you think Kelsey will be pissed? I mean, would she go for this?”

Vanessa shrugs. “It’s my bedroom. I can choose to live with whoever I want.”

“When do we need to decide by?”

“July, I think,” she says.

“Let me talk to my mom and I’ll get back to you,” I say, making her smile.

Vanessa yanks a red mini dress off the rack. “This would be great for you for the senior cruise.”

I take the mini dress from her. It would look good with my strawberry blond hair. Last year, before Nick and Kimberly left for their senior cruise, Mom snapped a billion pictures of them. She made my brother pose by the birdfeeder, on the porch, by the oak tree. Kyle and I stood off to the side, snickering at Nick’s misfortune.

“We’ll be posing by the mailbox next year,” Kyle said, wrapping his arms around my waist, my back to his front. I settled against his chest, and he kissed the top of my head.

Here in the now, I sigh and hang the red dress back up.

•••

During lunch, I stop by the table where the student council is distributing graduation caps and gowns. The boys will wear black and the girls get red. With my hair, I’m glad it’s not mustard yellow.

I stuff the cap and gown into my backpack, which suddenly feels very heavy. I glance around at the other students, and it’s hard to believe that in less than a week, I may never see some of these kids again. We won’t come back together after spending our summer at the city pool and cruising around town. Jared Campbell is joining the army and going to basic. Brooke Taylor, the best violinist our school’s ever seen, will study music at Brevard in North Carolina.

Soon I’ll only see these people online.

I pass by the table where Kelsey, Vanessa, and Savannah are chatting with the guys. If I decide not to room with Vanessa, would I ever see her and Kelsey again? I mean, the school I’m going to has, like, 30,000 students. That’s a sea of people. We only have about 500 kids at Hundred Oaks. Savannah says something and everybody at the table bursts out laughing.

And I feel lonely.

I’ve often wondered if Kelsey and I hadn’t grown apart when she moved, would I have been a part of her group? Along with Vanessa and Savannah, she hangs out with Colton Bradford, the mayor’s son; Rory Whitfield, one of the cutest guys at our school; and Jack Goodwin, the heir to Franklin’s largest horse farm. With my trailer’s ratty orange carpets and the gross brown spot on our counter, how could I invite guys like that over to eat pizza and watch a movie? I know they must be down to earth, because Savannah works on Jack’s farm and they are dating, but still. The people Kelsey left me behind for make me feel inferior in all sorts of ways.

I used to eat lunch with Kyle, his best friend, Seth, and Seth’s girlfriend, Melanie, but I haven’t since Kyle died. In terms of dealing with what happened to my boyfriend, I’ve heard that Seth is doing about the same as I am: he doesn’t want to play video games with anybody else; he shoots hoops alone.

When I walk past their table, Seth looks up and nods. Even though he knows Kyle and I made up and agreed to start dating again right before he died, Seth isn’t rushing to invite me to sit down. Another day, same story.

At least it’s Wednesday, which means I have my personal workout with Matt tonight at the gym. I never imagined I’d be that girl who comes to love working out, who craves it like a cop wants a donut. But I can’t figure out if I like being active or if it’s that I love working toward something. Regardless, I haven’t even run the race yet and I’m already missing the structure this program brings.