Frost

I began in the paint department. After a long period of deliberation, I chose a very light sky color, called “Blue Heaven.” I got brushes, rollers, trays, Spackle, and drop cloths. I considered buying a ladder, but they were too expensive, so I decided I’d just borrow one from maintenance.

Next, I found all the supplies I’d need for wall-mounted shelves.

In the garden department, I chose tulip and daffodil bulbs to plant in the backyard that would bloom next spring, and a couple of houseplants to hang in my room, along with the necessary wall brackets.

Then I got an egg-crate–foam-mattress pad and a brass, sliding bolt lock.

The closet needed an upgrade, too.

Chapter 28

“ALL I’M SAYING IS THAT I don’t want you in my room anytime soon.”

“Nice,” David said from the other end of the phone. “This is how you treat me?”

I scooped some more Spackle onto my knife. “I just want it to be a surprise. Give me a couple of weeks. Then you can be over here whenever you want. I promise.”

“All right,” he said in a tone of resignation. “What are you doing tonight?”

“Studying, I guess.”

“Want to come over and do it here?”

“If you let me get some work done,” I said, scraping the whitish paste over another small hole in the wall. “I’ve got to seriously start working if I want to have any chance at Columbia. I’ve never been this behind before.”

“Speaking of Columbia,” he said, “Paul, the guy who owns the restaurant I might work in, wants to meet with me over Thanksgiving. So I was thinking you could come down and we could spend a couple of days in the city together.”

When I’d mentioned to David that Columbia was on my list of long shots, he’d started talking as if it was a given that we’d want to be in the same city. Every time he talked that way, I wanted to die of happiness. We’d only been a couple for a week, but I already felt like he was a central fixture in my life. I couldn’t believe I’d even hesitated. Our togetherness seemed so obvious, and inevitable. Sort of like the way I’d felt when I’d moved into Frost House.

I spotted some holes midway up the wall that needed to be filled. “That’d be great,” I said, stepping up on the chair. “But I always go to Abby’s parents’ place for Thanksgiving.”

“Do you think you’ll do that this year?” he asked carefully.

I hadn’t even considered the possibility that I wouldn’t. “Probably,” I said. I’d gone the last three years. Her parents owned a bed-and-breakfast farm in Maine. I loved visiting them. Abby had to have forgiven me by then. Right? I wasn’t sure how many more weeks I could take with her and Viv not talking to me. Or even how many more days. . . .

“Well, if you come to New York,” he said, “you can check out where I might end up living. This guy Paul knows is going to be subletting his place and it would actually be affordable if I get a roommate.”

“A roommate?” I scooped a bit more Spackle from the bucket.

“Yeah. With New York prices, I’ll be lucky to have only one roommate.”

“Huh. I wonder if . . .” My heart thudded harder and faster as I strained to reach the next hole.

“If what?”

“If I’d have to live in a dorm at Columbia. I mean, maybe I’m being crazy, but what if we shared a place?”

“Lived together?”

Crap. Why had I said that? Same city is one thing, but this would probably completely freak him out. “Yeah, forget it. I was just thinking that financially, it might . . . but I’m being—”

“No, Leena. It’s a great idea. I’d love to have you as a roommate. Obviously.”

“Really? You would?” I said. “Because living with you is probably the one thing that would make me psyched to leave Frost House.”

All of a sudden, the earth tipped. I saw myself falling before it happened, then it did happen. The chair toppled backward. My cell and Spackle knife flew out of my hands. I pitched toward the floor, hit with a thud, landing partially on top of the overturned chair. Pain flared through me.

“Shit,” I said. “Oww!”

I rolled onto my side. After a second, I inched over and grabbed my phone.

“Are you there? Leena? Leena?” David was saying.

“Oww. I fell. It hurts.”

“Are you okay? Jesus, you scared me.”

“I think so,” I said, though I was shaking pretty hard from the shock. I pulled myself up and walked wobbily over to the bed.

“What happened? Are you okay? Should I come over?”

“No. I’m okay. I don’t know what happened.” I rubbed my hip. “The chair tipped. I guess I shifted my weight funny.”

I didn’t tell him that, actually, it felt like I’d been pushed.