Miranda hated to admit it, but she cried the first week away from home. None of her dorm mates seemed homesick. They were all too busy loving their freedom. There were parties and guys and alcohol to keep them distracted. Miranda couldn’t seem to enjoy any of it. She called Julia almost every night and told her about her classes, her professors, and her party-crazy dorm mates. Julia listened and sympathized, and then gushed about Gavin. Neither of them mentioned Ollie, although Miranda had to admit she looked at her phone more often than she might have otherwise. He seemed so far away, like a blip in her existence—something bright and shiny and odd she’d found on the sidewalk one afternoon and then lost. Walking to class, she looked around at the trees changing to orange and red and yellow. No palm trees. No hot, sticky days filled with casinos and hotels. She had to let him go! It was harder to do than she thought it would be because she didn’t know what had happened. It was one thing to have a boyfriend tell her things were over and everything ended in a final bang.
