How was campus paradise? Maya hung her jacket on the back of the chair. Still paradise. Rachel looked up. You say that like you're filing a complaint with God.
Maya almost smiled. Almost. Rachel noticed the missing part. What happened? Nothing.
That word means something happened. Maya sat at her desk. She opened her laptop. Rachel waited. Maya lasted 12 seconds.
There's a guy named Evan. Rachel's expression changed immediately. Bradford. Maya looked over. You know him?
Everybody knows him. That wasn't what I asked. Rachel closed the laptop. Not personally, but I know the type. Maya leaned back slightly.
What type? The type whose dad has a building. That got her attention. Rachel pointed toward the window as if the building might be visible through it. Bradford Performance Center.
His family paid for most of the renovation. His father sits on donor committees, knows trustees, gets invited to everything with a podium. Maya was quiet. Rachel studied her. What did Evan do?
Told me I was sitting at his table. Rachel blinked. His table. Apparently, you moved. Yes.
Why? Maya looked down at her hands because she had learned that power wasn't always proven by using it. Because she had spent 7 months avoiding situations where one second of anger might become something she could never take back because being right and being safe were not always the same thing. Instead, she said it wasn't worth it. Rachel frowned.
That's what people like him count on. Maya looked at her. Rachel softened. I'm not blaming you. I know.
I just hate that guys like that get trained by everybody else to think the room belongs to them. Maya closed her laptop without turning it on. Maybe it does. Rachel shook her head. No. Money buys a lot.
It doesn't buy every chair. The next afternoon, Lauren found Maya at Brennan's coffee kiosk inside the student center. Maya was standing beside the condiment station, adding sugar to a paper cup before class. Lauren walked past too close. Her elbow hit the cup.
Coffee spilled across the counter, splashed Maya's notebook, and ran in a brown line toward the edge. "Oh," Lauren said. She didn't sound sorry. Maya stared at the wet pages. Lauren picked up a napkin, then dropped it onto the counter instead of handing it over.
"You should be more careful," Maya looked at her. "You hit the cup." Lauren's smile appeared slowly. "Did I?" Kyle stood 10 ft away, phone angled toward them.
Maya noticed again. Lauren looked at Maya's jacket, same gray one, then at the cafe logo stitched on the black shirt beneath it. Brooks Corner. Maya said nothing. You work there?
Yes. Cute. There was something in the word that made it an insult. Lauren leaned against the counter. Scholarship and a job.