Chapter 1

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Freshman Year

Dusty glanced fondly at the framed picture of her father that now sat beside her bed in her dorm room at Princeton University. She knew he'd be proud of her and imagined what he might say if he'd been there. "I knew you could do it, Dusty-Rose. You're destined for great things." He always believed in her, more than anyone else did. With him gone, it had been hard for Dusty to believe in herself again.

It wasn't until Valentine came along that she truly reconnected with the ambitious girl she once was. Wrapped up in her own thoughts, Dusty jumped as the door to her room swung open. Standing in the corridor, carrying several pieces of designer luggage, was a petite, bronzed brunette, who instantly smiled when she spotted Dusty, re-vealing immaculate white teeth.

"Are you Dusty-Rose?" the girl asked, instantly dropping all her luggage, and climbing over them to come and embrace Dusty.

"Yeah, that's me." Dusty barely had a chance to respond before the girl grabber her in a tight embrace. The mysterious girl smelt of cherries and the ocean.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so excited to meet you. I'm Ashley, your roommate." Ashley beamed broadly at Dusty. Her enthusiasm was infectious, and Dusty found herself smiling back with equal verve.

"Nice to meet you, Ashley."

"Call me Ash."

"Okay."

"And do you prefer Dusty-Rose or just Dusty? Or something else entirely?" Ashley asked.

"Dusty is fine." Dusty nodded. As much as she liked her full name, it often sounded too ostentatious. Dusty was short, simple, and easy to remember.

"We are going to have so much fun." Ashley almost squealed with delight.

"Where are you from?" Dusty enquired, glancing back briefly at the pile of luggage that had been momentarily abandoned in the corridor, wondering how everything within them would fit into their modestly small dorm room.

Their room consisted of two twin beds on opposite walls. There were two nightstands, two desks with swivel chairs, and one medium-sized closet. The communal toilets and bathrooms were located down the hallway. Everything was clean and appeared relatively new but also simple. Any trimmings would have to be supplied by the students.

The only piece of décor Dusty had added to her room was a Paramore poster that she'd hung proudly above her bed. "I'm from L.A." Ashley smiled, looking beyond Dusty at the poster on the wall. "Did you put that up?" she asked, pointing a bright pink nail at the poster. "Uh huh."

"Urgh, I hate that band. They are, like, the kind of music you listen to when you want to end it all."

"They're not so bad," Dusty replied. Ashley shrugged and began to haul her luggage in, one piece at a time. Dusty went to help, surprised by how heavy it all was. "You carried all these in yourself?" she asked, panting beneath the weight of a particularly large Louis Vuitton bag.

"No, my dad brought most of it up, but I didn't want him to come to the room with me. He can be kind of over- bearing. Guess most dads are like that." Dusty squirmed a little at the topic of fathers.

"What's your dad like?" Ashley asked as she continued to pull her luggage towards her side of the room.

"My dad's dead," Dusty replied, deciding that she wanted to start her life at Princeton being honest and upfront. There was no more hiding from her past, no more denying who she was.

"Oh, shit, are you serious? I'm so sorry." Ashley dropped everything and ran to hug Dusty. "I had no idea, and here's me moaning about my dad."

"It's okay," Dusty answered.

"How horrible for you," Ashley continued sympathetically.

"What happened?"

"He was shot at a 7-Eleven."

"That's brutal." Ashley looked down at the floor, the mood in the room falling to quiet contemplation, the elation of their initial meeting eclipsed by the revelation about Dusty's father.

"I detest the second amendment!" Ashley declared. "I'm here to major in politics, run for congress, and one day be America's first female president. My entire campaign will be built on the notion that guns have got to go!"

"You sound like you've got it all figured out," Dusty noted, admiring Ashley's life plan and passion.

"Sure have. And my dad is a millionaire, so no issues funding my campaign." Ashley laughed. "But no more sadness. Today is a good day, the start of our new lives as college students. Tonight, I say we go out and party like the young hot things we are."

"I guess." Dusty felt reluctant. Back in high school, she'd shunned the social scene, favoring a life of relative anonymity.

"Come on, it will be awesome. When I got here, some cute guy from the building next to us told me about a party that's being thrown for freshman at one of the fraternity houses down the road. We so have to go." Ashley beamed. "Unless there's a guy back home you're pining for?" she suggested, sensing Dusty's initial reluctance.

Dusty considered telling Ashley about Valentine but decided against it. While she was able to accept being the girl whose father had been shot, she wasn't sure she wanted to become known on campus as the girl who dated her math teacher. She wanted to be popular, not infamous. "No, there's no guy back home."

"Great." Ashley sounded overjoyed. "Then it's settled. Tonight we go out and we celebrate being young and alive."

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