Fangirl

less pride, she could have taken this class with her sister—she and Wren both needed the history credits. Maybe she should be taking classes with Wren while they still had a few in common; they weren’t interested in any of the same subjects. Wren wanted to study marketing—and maybe get a job in advertising like their dad.
    Cath couldn’t imagine having any sort of job or career. She’d majored in English, hoping that meant she could spend the next four years reading and writing. And maybe the next four years after that.
    Anyway, she’d already tested out of Freshman Comp, and when she met with her adviser in the spring, Cath convinced him she could handle Intro to Fiction-Writing, a junior-level course. It was the only class—maybe the only thing about college—Cath was looking forward to. The professor who taught it was an actual novelist. Cath had read all three of her books (about decline and desolation in rural America) over the summer.
    “Why are you reading that?” Wren had asked when she noticed.
    “What?”
    “Something without a dragon or an elf on the cover.”
    “I’m branching out.”
    “Shh,” Wren said, covering the ears on the movie poster above her bed. “Baz will hear you.”
    “Baz is secure in our relationship,” Cath had said, smiling despite herself.
    Thinking about Wren now made Cath reach for her phone.
    Wren had probably gone out last night.
    It had sounded like the whole campus was up partying. Cath felt under siege in her empty dorm room. Shouting. Laughing. Music. All of it coming from every direction. Wren wouldn’t have been able to resist the noise.
    Cath dug her phone out of her backpack.
    “you up?” Send.
    A few seconds later, her phone chimed. “isn’t that my line?”
    “too tired to write last night,” Cath typed, “went to bed at 10.”
    Chime. “neglecting your fans already…”
    Cath smiled. “always so jealous of my fans…”
    “have a good day”
    “yeah - you too”
    A middle-aged Indian man in a reassuring tweed jacket walked into the lecture hall. Cath turned down her phone and slid it into her bag.
    *   *   *
    When she got back to her dorm, she was starving. At this rate, her protein bars wouldn’t last a week.…
    There was a boy sitting outside her room. The same one. Reagan’s boyfriend? Reagan’s cigarette buddy?
    “Cather!” he said with a smile. He started to stand up as soon as he saw her—which was more of a production than it should have been; his legs and arms were too long for his body.
    “It’s Cath,” she said.
    “Are you sure?” He ran a hand through his hair. Like he was confirming that it was still messy. “Because I really like Cather.”
    “I’m sure,” she said flatly. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about it.”
    He stood there, waiting for her to open the door.
    “Is Reagan here?” Cath asked.
    “If Reagan were here”—he smiled—“I’d already be inside.”
    Cath pinched her key but didn’t open the door. She wasn’t up for this. She was already overdosing on new and other today. Right now she just wanted to curl up on her strange, squeaky bed and inhale three protein bars. She looked over the boy’s shoulder. “When is she getting here?”
    He shrugged.
    Cath’s stomach clenched. “Well, I can’t just let you in,” she blurted.
    “Why not?”
    “I don’t even know you.”
    “Are you kidding?” He laughed. “We met yesterday. I was in the room when you met me.”
    “Yeah, but I don’t know you. I don’t even know Reagan.”
    “Are you going to make her wait outside, too?”
    “Look…” Cath said. “I can’t just let strange guys into my room. I don’t even know your name. This whole situation is too rapey.”
    “Rapey?”
    “You understand,” she said, “right?”
    He dropped an eyebrow and shook his head, still smiling. “Not really. But now I don’t want to come in with you. The word ‘rapey’ makes me uncomfortable.”
    “Me, too,” she said gratefully.
    He leaned against the wall and slid back onto the floor, looking up at her. Then he held up his hand. “I’m Levi, by the way.”
    Cath frowned and took his hand lightly, still holding her keys. “Okay,” she said, then opened the door and closed it as quickly as possible behind her.
    She grabbed her laptop and her protein bars, and crawled into the corner of her bed.
    *   *   *
    Cath was trying to pace her side of the room, but there wasn’t enough floor. It already felt like a prison