Page 22 of Stops Along the Way
“No, you’re right, it’s fine. Works out well that it’s in the same building.” I parrot her words, not really having any other strong sentiments to share with her on the matter.
Chapter Seven
It takes less than three minutes to walk over to Delancey Hall, where Camila is waiting for us in the lobby on one of the faded yellow chairs lined up against the entryway window. There’s a student working the front desk, scanning IDs and collecting guest names on a sign-in sheet. I have to flip to a fresh page, since all the rows on the first one are already full with names of visitors during these final days of the semester.
Camila has applied fresh makeup for the night, her hair teased back. Amelia leans over and whispers in her ear, something that makes Camila’s face contort with amused disbelief. Both girls laugh.
“What was that?” I ask.
“Nothing,” my sister says. I can tell it wasn’t about me, so I don’t press. She turns to me. “What was Declan’s brother’s name again? Maybe Camila knows him.”
“Grady,” I say.
“Oh, yeah, on the sophomore floors?” Camila says. “He’s, uh, nice enough, I guess.”
That’s such a vague response that could indicate a million different things, most of which are not great. I ask, “What does that mean?”
“Poli sci major,” Camila continues, as if that explains everything. By the knowing look on Amelia’s face, maybe it does.
Camila leads us down a hallway, past a long row of mailboxes and a package-collection counter that has a line of students waiting for the cardboard boxes crowding the small storage room. I’m falling behind, needing to crane my neck to follow their conversation as we walk down the hall at a brisk pace, trying not to bump into people or accidentally slide my shoulder against a wall, which would likely knock down one of the many bulletin boards.
“He’s not a jerk, though, right?” I ask. It would seem out of character for Declan’s brother to be mean, but until today, I didn’t even know he had a brother.
“Nah. He’s one of those guys who knows everyone. Like, makes it his business to know everyone, but when you know everyone, do you really know anyone?” Camila pauses in front of the elevators. “What room was it?”
I check Declan’s text. “Three seventeen.”
Camila and Amelia bypass the elevators entirely, and we climb a few flights of stairs to get to the third floor, where we go down the long carpeted hall past many dorms that are hosting gatherings this evening. There are signs plastered in the halls reminding residents that it’s finals week and to be quiet because people are studying, but those are mostly ignored.
We’re a handful of dorm rooms away, and from this angle, I can tell that the door to the room is wide open. I let Camila and Amelia take the lead, not super confident about showing up to a person’s living space this casually. I’m more used to hanging out with friends in a living room or basement, having to exchange pleasantries with their parents upon arrival, not walking right into their bedroom.
Yet Amelia nudges me ahead, since I was technically the one invited.
There are four guys standing inside the plain white walls of the mostly packed-up dorm room, past a tower of pizza boxes, exuberantly shouting over each other as they trade controllers for an ongoing video game on the mounted screen. One of them notices us standing there and nods for the others to look.
“Are we at the right room?” I ask my sister and her friend since I don’t see Declan among the crowd.
“Yeah,” Camila whispers back, obviously recognizing the guys inside.
“Hey, you must be our Nebraska people! Dex’s friends.” Who’s Dex? Yet the guy with cropped dark hair and a short beard who steps forward looks similar enough to Declan that it doesn’t take a leap to assume this is his sibling. He’s in anoversized Eagles T-shirt that doesn’t seem to mesh well with the sort-of-corporate pleated pants and nicer shoes that he’s wearing, as well. Like someone’s dad trying to sport an office casual look to manage this party rather than participate. He holds his arms out wide and welcoming, and he strikes me as the kind of dude who thrives on social situations no matter what, as his voice booms over the noise of the TV. “I’m Grady. My brother should be—”
“Here, sorry.” Declan emerges from the common room doorway across the hall with a stack full of paper towels in his hands. The relief I feel at his presence is almost embarrassing, and I hope not too obvious on my face. “I thought I’d have to go downstairs to let you in. We didn’t have plates or anything, so I was grabbing these.” He smiles at me. “I didn’t know you were almost here.”
“Amelia’s friend lives in the building,” I explain, cognizant that the rest of the room has gone somewhat quiet waiting for introductions.
Declan turns around. “This is Iris, Amelia, and—”
“Camila,” Grady says, giving her a charming politician smile. I almost expect him to reach out and clasp her on the shoulder. “Good to see you again.”
“Hey,” Camila says with an indifferent smile.
“I hear we’re driving out tomorrow?” Grady asks. “I’m an all-time champ at the license plate game. Isn’t that right, Dex? Watch me find three Alaska plates.”
“Sure, dude,” Declan says. It doesn’t evade my notice that he acts a little different around his older sibling. Standing tallerwith his shoulders relaxed. Ever so slightly more bro-y than the nerd I’m used to rolling dice against. But in a way that makes me feel like I’m getting the full picture of who he is.
Including this nickname.
Grady motions with his palms out wide, holding a can between two fingers. I keep expecting soda to fly everywhere, but nothing spills as he gesticulates enthusiastically. “Are we thinking like ten a.m. for tomorrow?”
