Chapter 4 The girl in the light

Getting directions was hard. Some students ignored us. Others gave half-hearted help. Eventually, we were pointed to a tall glass building that looked more like a corporate HQ than a university office.

We made our way there and entered a spacious, polished office, the air-conditioning was so sharp it cut through my clothes.

A man stood as we entered. Mid-50s, distinguished, kind eyes.

"Good morning, sir," Dad greeted.

"Good morning. Please, have a seat," the Dean responded, rising from his desk with a warm smile.

"My son, Peter, was granted a scholarship here. We've come to finalize his enrollment."

"Ah, yes. Peter," the Dean said, turning to me. "Welcome. I'm Richard Meisner, Dean of Berrocks University."

"It's an honor, sir," I replied.

After we introduced ourselves, I handed over the scholarship documents. The Dean reviewed them carefully, then nodded.

"Everything appears to be in order. Your courses are now registered in our system. Your student ID will be ready in two days."

"Thank you, sir," I said.

He summoned a staff member, a kind-looking woman who offered a friendly smile before leading us to my assigned dorm. We followed her across the manicured grounds until we reached a modern residence hall. She unlocked a door and stepped aside for us to enter.

I froze at the threshold.

The room was magnificent. High ceilings, wide windows, and a view of the rolling green lawns beyond. My bed had a crisp, clean duvet. A sleek laptop sat on a desk beside a shelf lined with classic books and course materials. There was even a small vase of fresh flowers on the nightstand.

"This is incredible," I breathed.

"You'll be sharing this room," the woman said. "Your roommate hasn't arrived yet. His side of the room is across from yours."

"Understood," I nodded, though I had silently hoped for a room to myself.

She smiled, gave us some final instructions, then excused herself. "I'll leave you both to settle in."

"Thank you," Dad and I said together.

Back at the bus, I was still buzzing with excitement. "Dad, this place is unreal!"

He smiled but looked thoughtful. "It is. Let's grab your bags before it gets too late."

We hauled my luggage back to the dorm, and with each step, reality settled deeper in: I was officially a student of Berrocks University.

When we were done unpacking, Dad stood at the door, the moment of goodbye upon us. He turned to me, a seriousness in his eyes.

"I'm scared for you, son."

"Scared? Why?" I asked, surprised.

"This place... it's not what I imagined. It's easy to lose yourself here. Even I felt it," he admitted.

"I'll be okay, Dad. I remember the promise I made to you and Mom. I won't let either of you down. I just need your trust."

"You have it," he said softly. "Be careful, Peter. And if anything ever goes wrong-don't hesitate to reach out. You don't have to face things alone."

"I promise," I said, hugging him tightly. "Tell Mom I love her."

"I will. And remember..." he pulled back and placed a hand on my shoulder, "Live well. Honor your family."

As he boarded the bus and drove away, I stood at the dorm entrance, watching until he disappeared down the drive.

Then I turned and walked back to my room-a room that symbolized more than comfort. It represented opportunity. Change. And an uphill battle against everything I didn't yet understand.

I sat on the edge of the bed and let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. The weight of Dad's words clung to me.

It's easy to lose yourself here.

I stared out the window at the students milling around the courtyard-laughing, talking, some walking with that effortless grace that came with money and knowing you belonged.

Do I belong?

A knock on the door snapped me from my thoughts.

I stood and opened it to find a boy with tousled hair and a grin that looked like it came easy. He wore a varsity jacket, duffel bag slung over one shoulder, earbuds dangling around his neck.

"Yo! You must be Peter, right? I'm your roommate-Alex Kensington."

I shook his hand. "Yeah, Peter Campbell. Nice to meet you."

Alex stepped inside and looked around. "Wow, they really hooked us up. This is way better than the rooms my brother got when he was here."

"You have a brother here?" I asked.

"Used to. Graduated two years ago. Top of his class, student body president, all that stuff. Big shoes to fill, I guess."

He tossed his bag on the bed across from mine and flopped down with a satisfied groan. "So, what's your story?"

I hesitated but then I guess he already knew from my dressing. "Scholarship student."

Alex whistled low. "That's a haul. Must've taken a lot to get in here."

"It did," I said simply.

"Cool," he replied. "I respect that."

We chatted a bit more-classes, hobbies, the ridiculous price of campus food. Alex seemed laid-back, easy to talk to. Still, I felt the gap between us. His ease, his familiarity with this world... it was like watching someone dance through a place I was still tiptoeing into.

Later that evening, an email pinged on my laptop. Orientation schedules. Class placements. Student ID number. My heart beat faster as I scrolled through the details. This was real. It was happening.

I shut the laptop and lay back, staring at the ceiling. I should have felt excitement. Pride.

I didn't know when I slept off but when I woke up later in the evening to get ready for the orientation.

I dressed in my best shirt-ironed three times the night before-and jeans that still looked slightly too worn next to the designer threads I passed in the halls. Alex was already gone, probably off to some athletic meet-and-greet. I grabbed my folder, my courage, and stepped out into Berrocks University.

I made my way through the crowd, careful not to bump into anyone, trying to blend in.

"Campbell, right?" a voice called.

I turned. It was the Dean's assistant-the same woman who'd shown me my dorm. She smiled. "You're scheduled for the second group tour. Starts in ten minutes by the amphitheater."

"Thanks," I said.

As I walked in that direction, a sudden hush rippled through the crowd. Heads turned, conversations stalled. Then I saw why.

A girl walked through the center of the lawn like she owned the sun itself.

Her hair flowed like ink across her shoulders, dark and glossy, contrasting against a white blouse tucked into high-waisted trousers. Gold bangles caught the light as she moved. And her eyes-sharp, distant, untouchable.

Oh My God,

She wasn't alone. A small circle of equally polished friends orbited her, laughing and tossing perfect hair over tanned shoulders. But she didn't laugh. She walked as if nothing and no one around her mattered.

As she passed me, her eyes flicked in my direction. Brief. Disinterested. Then gone.

But for some reason, that fleeting glance felt like being singed by fire and brushed with velvet all at once.

I didn't know her name. But something told me I'd know it soon.