FIVE - BEFORE

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On a small campus like Davidson, I figured I'd probably see Josh again.

And yet our second encounter still managed to sneak up on me.

It was my second week of college: a reassuring milestone at which I'd started to shake off the initial nerves and become embedded in my new routine. Which, on the whole, was pretty consistent. Early-morning and mid-afternoon classes, sandwiching 12 o'clock coffee in the student center when night-owl Hanna finally dragged herself out of bed. Back to my dorm to study for a couple of hours. Dinner in the cafeteria with a group of Hanna's friends. Hanging out with them afterward in the Willard lounge. More often than not, being the first one to excuse myself to go to bed.

I was handling college life—and for that, I was proud of myself. But I could also see the obvious, even before my parents pointed it out: pretty much all my social activity was catalyzed by my extroverted best friend.

"Maybe you should try doing something on your own?" Mom suggested on the phone one night. "Like a group you're interested in. It might be good to meet some new people."

"I'm not sure," I said. "I've got a lot on, with classes and everything..."

"Think about it. You might surprise yourself."

So here I was. Taking her advice. Pushing myself out of my comfort zone, even though that had always been better left to my siblings. Especially Caleb, back when he'd been around. It was time for me to take a leaf out of their book.

I just had to find the right room in the library first.

Third floor, room seventeen: that was what the Facebook event specified, but after ten minutes of trailing up and down the aisles, I was starting to doubt whether it even existed. Putting up fake details for a volunteer group session didn't seem like a likely practical joke, and yet unless I was being seriously stupid...

"Are you looking for the meeting?"

Reaching the end of the aisle for the third time, the voice came out of nowhere. My head turned, and there she was: a tall-ish girl, olive-skinned, with a stylish black bob that curled under her chin. She was wearing a green polo with a book-shaped logo stitched across the left breast. Standing with one hand on the corner of the wall, she looked at me questioningly.

"The volunteer group?" she clarified, when I didn't say anything. "Leaders in Literacy?"

"Yeah."

"It's through here." She cocked her head behind her. "Sorry. The room's kind of hard to find."

"Oh," I said. "Thanks."

I followed as she rounded the corner, where another couple of meeting rooms were tucked away out of sight. The door to one was propped open with a chair, and I could hear the muted bustle of activity inside. "They really should put a sign up," she said, gesturing toward it. "This is us."

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