That night, Jack refused to sleep. For the past few evenings, he had hardly slept a wink. He’d drift off to sleep in a pseudo-bliss, and then he’d suddenly awaken from a nightmare within the next thirty minutes. Every night, all he saw was Crutchie’s face, looking at him with hatred in his eyes. Jack had never seen his friend look so hateful ever before. He would awake with the sounds of accusations and hate-filled comments ringing in his ears. He knew it wasn’t really him, since Crutchie didn’t seem to be capable of saying those things during his short life. But, even though he knew the truth, he was certain he just couldn’t put himself through it again, even if it was supposedly “a big day tomorrow.”

So, after saying goodnight to Medda, he retreated to his bedroom and sat on the little chair by his window. The young artist reached for the sketchbook on the windowsill and the pencil that was positioned on top of it, his mind swirling with ideas for new drawings. If he was going to stay up all night, he may as well do something productive with the time.

When he opened the book up, his hand started to dance across the page with the pencil. Drawing was natural to him. At this point, the action of sketching was completely automatic every chance he had. It was the only way he kept himself sane, especially nowadays. He was fascinated by the way that a simple group of lines could form a beautiful picture like some of the ones he pinned on his wall.

By the starlight, he started a new picture by drawing a rough silhouette and the outline of a tombstone in front of the person’s legs. As he added detail, the simple lines turned into a lovely drawing of a woman walking among the tombstones. It was that mystery girl he had spotted after the funeral. Jack couldn’t figure out why she was sticking in his mind. He saw lovely girls on the street every day. This one was no different, right?

Yeah, definitely. This girl was no different than any other one he saw on the street. Besides, New York City was a big place. He probably wouldn’t even see her again. She’d just be one of those faces that exist only in the briefest of memories.

And that was that. As soon as he finished the sketch, he flipped the page and subsequently tried to forget her with another few drawings.

By the time morning came, Jack had finished four sketches and was working on a fifth, but there were also plenty of crumpled up pieces of paper strewn around the room. The sun was just starting to rise, bringing bright light into the bedroom to illuminate the newest sketch he was working on: a landscape of someplace out west. As he added a little bit of shading to the image, he heard a voice in the hall outside. It sounded like singing, and it was getting closer to his door.

Cursing under his breath, the young man quickly placed his sketchbook and pencil on the windowsill and got into his bed. He hoped that this could potentially convince his foster mother that he had actually attempted to sleep that night.

Within seconds of getting under the blankets, Medda burst through the door. “Jack! Time to get up!” she exclaimed excitedly as she strolled over to the bed.

Jack, hoping to keep up the charade, slowly rolled over and stretched out. “Mmm...what time is it?” he mumbled.

“It’s seven a.m. I’ve made breakfast,” Medda began while she stepped over some of the sketches, “and then as soon as you’re done, we can head down to the campus and get you moved in before people start to rush. I thought it would give you some time to relax and get to know the place.”

He groaned a little bit and rubbed his eyes. “Do I have to go?”

“I thought you were excited to go to college,” Medda commented as she sat on the edge of the bed. With a gesture at the papers on the floor, she added, “Isn’t that why you stayed up all night drawing?”

The attempt at a ruse was up. Jack sat up and looked at her, running a hand through his hair. “Not really.”

This time, it was Medda’s turn to sigh. “Jack,” she started, “I know it’s hard, but you need to move on. A fresh start at college, that’ll help. And you’re going to have friends there too. You got to choose Davey as your roommate, after all, and your other friends will be only a phone call away, whether they’re in college with you or finishing up their years at high school.”

This just earned a shrug from Jack. “I guess,” he murmured.

“Besides,” Medda finished, “I’m paying for all four years’ tuition. Make sure my money's worth something, Jack.” Then, she laughed, letting her foster son know that she was kidding about this, for the most part.

He just nodded, deciding to just drop the conversation topic. One of the many things he had learned over the years was that it was easier to just agree with Medda rather than fight her. “So, what did you make for breakfast, then?”

“Pancakes. Clean up this mess and put your sketchbook and things in your bag,” Medda ordered and stood up, giving him a small smile. “We don’t want you to forget them. I’ll have them all ready on the table by the time you’re done.” And with that, Medda departed the room, already starting to sing before she was two feet down the hall.

*****

Two hours later, Jack was carrying the last of his things up to his dorm room with Medda at his heels. Thanks to Medda’s suggestion, he was early enough to get through things pretty fast and get things set up without running into too many people. So, with the addition of the last little box in his arms, his side of the dorm room was all set up.

Davey and the rest of the Jacobs clan had arrived about halfway through his setup, which helped Jack to relax a little more. At least he had some of his friends around to keep him from going insane from the interior decorating Medda was trying to encourage.

After setting everything up in the way he basically wanted it, Jack sat down on his bunk while Medda searched through his closet. “Hey, Dave, ya done yet?”

The taller boy was in the process of organizing his books, with his little brother handing him books one by one to incorporate in just the right order. When he heard Jack’s question, Davey turned around and glanced in his direction. “Uh, if you give me another five minutes to finish putting all my books in the right place, then I will be.”

Jack tilted his head slightly in surprise. “How many books did you bring?”

Les started to count them out one by one. After about thirty seconds of quick counting, he wasn’t done, because there were still more in the box at his feet. “I counted twenty,” he declared for the room to hear.

“That’s not true,” Davey replied, putting another book in its place. “I brought thirty-four, one for each week of class plus winter break.”

Jack sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “How are you gonna have time for readin’ thirty-four books, plus doin’ your homework? I mean, we all know you do yours religiously, so,” he pointed out.

“I read quickly and know how to manage my time,” he explained as he took another book from Les. “And if that’s your way of saying that you aren’t planning on doing your homework, I’m personally going to make sure you do.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Jack mumbled with an eye roll. “But really, can you hurry up with this organization stuff? I wanna go explore campus.”

“Give me five minutes or less to finish this up, and then sure.”

It was that moment when Esther Jacobs, the boys’ mother, came in with a bag of clothing. She tilted her head to the side and looked at her older son. “What about having lunch somewhere, like we promised?”

“Mom, it’s nine in the morning. I don’t think you really want to eat lunch right now,” Davey reminded his mother as he turned to look at her, simultaneously putting a biography in its place on the shelf. We can call you around eleven or something and find a place to meet up.”

That was when Medda rejoined the conversation. As she turned around from her place by the closets, she commented, “Jack, all you brought was your dark clothing.”

“Because that’s what I felt like packing,” Jack finished, shrugging. “Why is this important?”

“I’m bringing your brighter-colored clothing tomorrow,” she declared, “so you can look like yourself when class starts on Monday morning.”

Jack chewed on his lower lip. “Medda, that’s really not necessary-”

Medda cut him off. “No, it is. I’ll be here tomorrow morning at nine sharp to drop them off,” she proclaimed and shot her foster son a smile. “But you two should really go and enjoy yourselves. Find some clubs to join, find a place for you to hang out after class. Go on. We’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

Jack turned to look at his friend. “Well, Dave?”

Davey took the last of the books from his little brother and placed them on the shelf. As soon as everything was exactly how he wanted it, he turned around to look at his friend. “I’m all set. Let’s go.” After ruffling Les’s hair and saying a quick goodbye to him, his parents, and Medda, Davey departed the room followed by Jack, ready to find somewhere to explore.

*****

“So, what do you think of your roommate?” Katherine’s friend, Hannah, inquired before she took a sip of her coffee. The girl’s red curls were tied up in a messy bun on her head, but some were falling into her eyes when she tilted her head to take a sip.

The two friends were sitting in the common area of their residence hall, just chatting while they waited for Bill and Darcy to arrive. Katherine’s father couldn’t be bothered to come and help her move in until that afternoon, and neither could Hannah’s parents, so they had plenty of time to kill before the adults arrived or Bill and Darcy did. Their plan was to enlist them to help if they could convince them.

Katherine laughed, leaning back against the sofa. After glancing around the room to make sure that her roommate was not to be seen, she replied, “Let’s just say that her half of the room has so much pink, it would put the Plastics to shame.”

Hannah couldn’t help laughing as well. “That’s literally the exact opposite of my roommate,” she explained. “I swear, I think she doesn’t own anything that isn’t black or red. It looks like a My Chemical Romance album exploded on her side.”

“Are you serious?” Katherine asked before she took a bite of her muffin. “Well, this is certainly entertaining. We’re surrounded by the people we knew in middle school.”

Then, a thought occurred to the redhead. “I kinda want to set them up,” she admitted. “You know, tell them that we found someone super similar to them that they could be friends with. Then, we’ll end up with Karen Smith and Lydia Deetz meeting up at the dining hall. Wouldn’t that just be funny?”

“Mean Girls meets Beetlejuice. You just want to drive the world crazy sometimes, don’t you, Hannah?” Katherine responded, shaking her head slightly at her friend.

“And you don’t?” Hannah asked. After taking another sip, she commented, “You know, you’ve been in a better mood for some reason these past few weeks. What’s been going on with you? I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, of course. It’s just different.”

The brunette shrugged. “Well, I haven’t had the urge to smack someone in the past few days. I’ve been avoiding all the places where the jerks from high school hang out, which has definitely helped me to stay sane. I don’t have to listen to any of their stupid, perverted comments, so maybe that’s it.”

“Ah,” Hannah started, “so as soon as someone does something stupid around you, you’ll be back to normal?”

As she smoothed out her plaid skirt, Katherine shrugged and nodded. “Yeah, probably.”

Hannah smiled at her friend. “Well, the next time you feel like giving some idiot a swollen eye, I’ll be here to hold your notebook.”

Katherine, having finished her muffin, picked up her own cup of coffee. “And I’ll hold your glasses so they don’t break like last time,” she teased, nudging her friend.

“We got this,” Hannah declared, holding her hand up for a high five.

As Katherine obliged, she laughed and commented, “We definitely do.”

The two of them continued to chat in their little corner of the common area. While Hannah brought up an old story from high school, Katherine listened while scanning the room for Darcy and Bill. It was nearing nine-thirty, and the boys said that they would show up around that time. So where were they?

The young woman turned her attention to the doorway, hoping to catch a glimpse of her friends. That was when Katherine’s gaze locked with a mystery man standing in the entryway. She sat there on the couch, just looking at him, for what felt like ten minutes, but was probably more like ten seconds. She didn’t know why, but for some reason, she couldn’t look away from his eyes. There was something about him that she just couldn’t put her finger on. It wasn’t like she had ever seen this guy before, right? No, she didn’t really seem to forget faces. And what a face this guy had. She wouldn’t have forgotten him, no sir.

Then, suddenly she noticed a look of surprise and confusion on his face. Katherine watched as the guy grabbed his friend’s arm, or so she assumed, and drag him out of the common area. What was up with him?

“Hello? Earth to Katherine,” Hannah called, nudging her friend. “Don’t make me pour my coffee on you.”

That got Katherine’s attention. “You’d actually burn me to get my attention?” she asked, immediately attempting to push the strange boy out of her mind.

“I’d threaten it. I’d never do that to you,” Hannah replied as she adjusted her glasses. “You okay?”

“Who, me? Yeah, I’m fine,” Katherine lied as she sipped her cup of coffee. With a quick glance at the doorway, she was able to change the conversation topic almost immediately. “Oh, look. There’s Darcy and Bill. Hey guys!” she called, waving them over.

The mystery boy, whoever he was, was quickly out of Katherine’s mind.