The university had assigned me a dorm on Redstone Campus… and it lived up to its name. As Jack and I arrived, we were greeted by a sight to behold: a sprawling green lawn surrounded by a thick forest. Tucked between the trees were brick-red buildings draped in vibrant green vines that cascaded over every windowsill and doorway. The campus had a regal aura, making me feel like royalty living in an ancient, enchanted castle.
As we pulled into the driveway of my dorm, a nervous hush settled over me. What if my roommate didn’t like me? What if we didn’t get along? The idea of living with someone I couldn’t stand—for a whole year—tightened like a knot in my stomach.
“You ready?” Jack teased, slinging my backpack over his shoulder.
I grabbed my hamper, overflowing with clothes, and followed him to the entrance. “You know, you really didn’t have to help me move all this,” I said, feeling a pang of guilt.
“Oh, you thought I was just going to leave you and dump your stuff on the curb?”
“Well, itwouldbe the gentlemanly thing to do,” I teased.
“Clearly, I’m just not that gentlemanly,” he said, rolling his eyes playfully. “Actually helping you? So rude.”
I laughed and nudged him. “You’re always a gentleman.”
Jack grinned, a spark in his eyes. A warmth spread through me, and my cheeks flushed.
“This it?”
“Room 302,” I confirmed, fumbling in my pocket for my key. Before I could even turn the lock, the door flew open, and a whirlwind of red curls burst out.
“Faye!” she squealed, her voice high-pitched and excited.
Jack and I exchanged a look, eyebrows raised. Did she just… squeal?
“Yeah?” I managed, feeling a little caught off guard.
“Hi!” she chirped, her voice bubbling with energy. “I’m Mirabelle, but you can call me Mira. I’m so excited to meet you!” She gave me a huge hug, her tiny frame surprisingly strong, and snatched my hamper from my hands.
My eyes darted to Jack, silently searching for my next move. He was trying his best not to laugh at my wide-eyed expression, rendering him useless.
“Thanks for the help,” I mouthed to him as I followed Mira inside our dorm.
“I tried to find you on social media, but no luck. How do you even live without it these days? No clue. But hey, good for you, I guess. Less distractions, right? You’ll get tons of studying done. Or, who knows, maybe you’ll finally join this year? It’s the best way to stay connected, seriously,” Mira rambled.
While she talked, I took a look at my room. Or rooms, rather. I hadn’t realized we qualified for a suite! Walking through the entrance, I found myself standing in the common area. To the right, there was the kitchen, with a counter lined with bar stools and a more formal table for dining. Looking past the kitchen, I found a short hallway, which led to a bedroom and a bathroom. To the left, there was another short hallway and a second bed and bath.
“I didn’t know we had a suite,” I said, surprised.
“Isn’t it amazing?” Mira said, her eyes sparkling. “We were waitlisted, but Dad pulled a few strings and voila!” She gestured around the suite with a flourish. “I took the bedroom on the right, hope you don’t mind. They’re both the same size, really, but I just had a feeling about that one.” She turned to me, her enthusiasm infectious. “We’re going to have so much fun decorating this place! It’s going to look incredible.”
Despite the slight strain on my ears, she was genuinely sweet. I smiled at her, then noticed she was still holding my hamper. “Let me take that,” I offered. “You and Jack have already done so much.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she said, bouncing slightly. “Come on, I’ll show you your room.”
Three trips to the car with Mira and Jack was all it took to get my stuff up to the suite. Mira hesitated only briefly when she saw Jack’s wrecked car. He was oblivious. She quickly recovered, offering an encouraging smile as we headed back inside. Jack dropped off my last box of shoes and gave me an exhausted look.
“Thirty pairs of shoes? Come on,” he said.
“It’s for thirty different occasions, duh!” Mira winked, a sly grin spreading across her face.
That little bit of humor made me think we’d get along just fine.
“This place is… huge,” I said, dropping the last of the last of my stuff on the floor and scattering the contents of my pockets onto the counter. Keys, phone, a crumpled flyer for the Champlain Valley Fair. My shoulders slumped. “It’s going to take forever to make this place feel like home.”
Mira’s eyes lit up. “Well, I have a few ideas…”
Turns out Mira’s ‘few ideas’ were actually a tidal wave. She was already sketching out plans – strings of lights everywhere, tiny potted succulents crowding windowsills, color palettes shifting from soft lavender and green to bold coral and navy. And did I hear that right… she wants two bedroom themes? My attention drifted somewhere around the mention of anchors and rope. Beige, I thought longingly. Just the thought of a quiet, calming beige felt like a haven after Mira’s whirlwind.
I nodded along and pretended to be swept up in the enthusiasm, all while carefully digging through my boxes. My fingers grazed something cool and smooth – glass. Pausing, I pulled out my new candle, the one I’d been saving. The scent of salt, sand, and sun-warmed shells filled my senses, a sudden wave of homesickness washing over me.
“…so, like, if you’re cool with it, I’ll make a list of what we need, and then we can start, right?” Mira’s voice snapped me back to reality.
I glanced at Jack, hoping he’d caught more of that than I had. He was leaning against my dresser, looking just as lost as I felt, and gave me a helpless shrug.
“Yeah, sure,” I mumbled, still not entirely sure what I was agreeing to.
“Awesome! I’ll get right on it!” Mira chirped, and then she was gone, a blur of red curls vanishing through the doorway.
Jack and I exchanged a look. We were both running on fumes… and it wasn’t just the unpacking.
“Well,” Jack said, pushing himself off the dresser with a stretch. “I should probably head back to my closet of an apartment.”
“I’ll walk you out.”
“Who’s the gentleman now?” he teased, his eyes crinkled at the corners.
“More like trying to survive,” I whispered, shutting the door behind us. “If Mira asks me one more question about throw pillows, I might actually lose my mind.”
“You’ve got it easy,” he said, giving me a gentle nudge. “You two are going to have a blast this year.”
“Yeah, she’s just… a lot,” I admitted, stepping through the doorway he held open. “It’ll take some getting used to, that’s all.” A warm summer breeze ruffled my hair.
“And you’ll get used to it,” he assured me, tucking a stray golden strand behind my ear. “Now, go unpack. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay, boss,” I joked, hugging him tightly. “Thanks for everything. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Jack held me close, burying his face in my hair. His warm breath on my neck made my breathing slow. When he pulled back, he hesitated, his mouth opening and closing as if he wanted to say something. He gripped my arms a little tighter.
“Faye,” he began, his voice rough. “What happened today… I can’t explain it. It was like déjà vu, but… more. I just knew something was going to happen. I had to get you out of there.” His thumbs traced circles on my skin. “I don’t understand what’s going on, but I won’t let anything hurt you.”
I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding and cupped his cheek. He leaned into my touch, a silent question in his eyes. “I know,” I whispered, offering a reassuring smile.
We stood there for a moment, wrapped in the quiet comfort of the dusk, finally feeling safe, at peace. Then, he closed his eyes, inhaling the cool evening air. A slow exhale followed, his shoulders loosening slightly. When he opened his eyes, he offered a wink that masked the lingering tension. He released me, a light smile curling his lips, and climbed into his car.
“I guess I should probably call the insurance company, huh?” he said, wincing slightly as he turned the key.
“I’ll be your witness!” I called over the roar of his engine. He shot me a winning smile. A moment later, he drove off, rumbling out of the parking lot, heading back to his apartment.
Back at the suite, Mira was perched on the couch, phone glowing in her hands. “Guess what?” she said, grinning. “I got us a TV!”
“Wait, you what?” I blinked, completely thrown. “You bought a TV?”
“Yeah!” she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “It was the only thing missing, right? It’ll make this place feel like home.” Then she paused, eyes gleaming. “Well, technically, Dad bought it, but I picked it out! It was my vision.”
I wandered toward my room, a pang of worry forming in my stomach. Was I going to have to split the cost? I had some cash saved, but no job here, and a TV would definitely eat into my budget.
But then, something stopped me. Mira wasn’t the type to just spring things on people and expect them to pay up. Despite the bubbly act, she seemed pretty sensible. And she’d been generous so far. Maybe I’d misjudged her.
Stepping into my room, I was hit with a wave of salty air. My favorite candle, the one that always reminded me of home, was burning on my desk.
That’s weird. I didn’t light it.
“Hey, Mira?” I called out.
“Yeah?” she replied from the living room.
“Did you light my candle?” I asked. “It’s fine, just thought I’d forgotten my lighter.”
“No, wasn’t me. Must’ve been Jack.” Her voice bubbled with excitement. “Maybe we should do a nautical theme…”
Maybe it was Jack… but he wasn’t near it.
“Wait!” Mira called, popping back into my doorway, a flyer in her hand. “Is this the fair everyone’s talking about?”
I took the flyer, glanced at it, and nodded. “Yeah, it’s supposed to be fun.”
Mira snatched it back, practically bouncing in place. I quirked an eyebrow, suppressing a laugh.
“Want to go with me tomorrow?” I asked. “We can kick off the semester right.”
“I’d love to!” She gave me a big hug, her excitement spilling over, before skipping out of my room. The lingering shock of the accident had masked the pain, but when Mira’s arms tightened around me, the bruises flared to life, a dull ache settled in my ribs.
I walked over to my desk, the room swaying slightly. The clock read 9:45 p.m. Only 9:45? It felt like I’d been awake for days. My body ached, every muscle screaming for rest. Thinking back on the chaotic day – the crash, the adrenaline, the sheer terror – I decided sleep was more than a priority. It was a necessity. Unpacking could wait. Leaning down, I drew in a deep breath to blow out the candle, my head suddenly spinning with the rush of exhaustion.
Only, it didn’t extinguish.
The flame didn’t even flicker.
I huffed and tried again, blowing harder this time. Still, nothing. It burned steadily, defying my efforts. Had I bought trick candles? Why would I? With a final, frustrated puff, I gave up.
Fine. Burn away. See if I care.
Exhausted and a little annoyed, I decided sleep was more important. The candle wasn’t large, and it would surely burn out eventually. All I could think about was the comfort of my bed, the softness of my pillow, and the promise of a deep, restful sleep.
As I crawled into bed, turning out the light, I noticed the candle flame still flickering across the room. It cast an eerie glow, and for a moment, it seemed to hold my gaze. Then, sleep began to tug at the corners of my eyes.
The second my eyelids touched, I was back on that highway. Jack’s car, a metal cage, slammed and bucked around me. My heart pounded against my ribs. I twisted in the seat, fingers clawing for the useless safety of the seatbelt, eyes glued to the rain-streaked darkness behind us. Go, go, go, I begged for Jack’s car to roar to life. I tried to bury the image of twisted metal and broken glass.
But it wouldn’t stay buried. It rose, a dark silhouette against the chaos – a man, impossibly tall, impossibly still, standing in the heart of the wreckage. He was a shadow against the lightning, a silent promise of something terrible. And then, just as the fear threatened to swallow me whole, the darkness of sleep dragged me under.
Author HC Harris 