Sanctum. Madeleine Roux

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      Inside the newly renovated, warm Erickson Dormitory, Dan finally felt the chilly influence of Brookline break. The volunteers led them up to the third floor, where a bank of overstuffed couches had been set up along the walls in a U shape. A few students disappeared down the hall, taking piles of luggage to a room to be sorted and divvied out later by host and dorm building.

      Dan grabbed a seat between Abby and Jordan, who clambered out of their coats and scarves, red-faced and sweating from the jump in temperature. It was almost too warm in the spacious common room, overcrowded with bodies and furniture.

      “My host seems nice,” Dan whispered to them.

      “Mine’s okay,” Jordan replied with a shrug. “Not very bright, and a little WASPy, but okay.”

      “Lara is awesome.” As if to prove it, Abby gave her host a little wave. All the student volunteers stood near the archway leading out into the hall. There was an elevator on the right side of the room and windows all along the wall behind where the prospies sat. Dan felt the cold from outside seeping in when one of the hosts finally opened a door. Jordan’s host began pulling orange folders from a few cardboard boxes and passing them out to the various rows.

      “You don’t think she’s a little … frigid?” Jordan asked. “I’m getting some serious robot, type A vibes off of that one.”

      “She’s serious about art, Jordan,” Abby muttered. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

      “Find your folder, please,” Jordan’s host instructed. “They’re all labeled.”

      “At least you two got paired with hosts who have stuff in common with you. Don’t ask how I got paired up with Cal because I have no frakking clue,” Jordan whispered. “He’s an economics major.”

      “Economics involves math,” Dan suggested. “Right?”

      “Maybe for most people. I get the impression Cal is just trying to learn how to handle a trust fund.”

      “How could you know that already?” Abby whispered. “I say give the guy a break.”

      “I will not. He’s wearing boat shoes. Ugh. Boat shoes and he is nowhere near a stupid boat. Justify that, Captain Tolerance.”

      “What are you even—you know what, never mind.”

      Abby handed him one of the orange folders, and then Dan quickly located his before passing the remaining stack along. He cracked open his folder to find a long schedule of events he did not plan on attending. Abby had been right—the “Campus Carnival” for prospies took the top spot in a huge font.

      “If you have an emergency,” Cal was saying at the front of the room, “you’ll find the list of campus numbers in your folder. Any phone on campus can connect you easily to the main switchboard if you just dial 555 …”

      He droned on about safety precautions and campus policies, but Dan had stopped paying attention. A small, sharp elbow was prodding him repeatedly in the ribs.

      “Ouch. What?”

      “That kid,” Abby murmured, nodding discreetly to a boy just down the row from them. He glared back at Dan through a curtain of stringy black hair. “He’s been staring at you ever since we walked in here.”

      “So? He’s probably just socially awkward.” Dan would know. He couldn’t rightly say he was completely out of his shy nerd phase himself. “Or is there something on my face?”

      “Dan, it’s not funny. He’s … off. I don’t think he’s blinked for the last five minutes.”

      “She’s right,” Jordan hissed, chiming in so suddenly Dan jumped a little in his seat. “His eyes are all glassy.”

      “He’s a host, too,” Abby pointed out. “He’s wearing one of the volunteer shirts.”

      “I’m calling it now,” said Jordan. “Dude’s wasted.”

      Carefully, Dan turned his head to look at the kid again—he didn’t even seem to be breathing he was so still. And Dan had to admit, that look did make him feel unsettled. There was no mistaking it—unless the kid was bird-watching out the window behind Dan, he was staring unblinkingly, intently, directly at him.

      “Maybe Jordan’s right, he’s stoned or something. Anyway, we’re not here to worry about that crap, or Jordan’s problem with СКАЧАТЬ