Page 1 of Single Glance

ONE

Seven Years Ago

“What do you mean, it’s on the sixth floor?”

The heathen behind the desk just smirked as she passed over my room key. “Number 612,” she repeated, as if that was the part I had trouble comprehending. She pointed around the corner, where a massive group congregated. “Andthatis the line for the elevator.”

I groaned and dropped my head back, regretting not stopping for one last cup of coffee. After three days in my car, I couldn’t resist driving that final stretch, excited to check out my dorm room and meet my roommate in person.

Whatever. At least I was finally in Austin, a world away from my home in Massachusetts, and that was what mattered most.

I never planned on moving to Texas for college. I never planned on any of this. If you had asked me a couple of months ago, Iwould have laid out every part of my five-year plan: graduate from Yale with my law degree, get engaged to Josh, the love of my life, and leave my past behind.

Too bad none of that was in the cards for me now. First, I’d forgone Yale in favor of attending Stanford with Josh because that washisdream, and he didn’t want to spend the next four years without me.Should have been the first red flag, but you know what they say about hindsight being 20/20.Maybe thatwouldhave been the start of our story—ifI had gotten into Stanford. Despite my grades and my personal statement detailing how I’d worked my butt off at the diner the past four years to save every penny in the hopes of attending, none of that mattered to the admissions office. I cringed just thinking about that rejection letter, the lasting bitter sting of each of the words.

We regret to inform you…

The door slammed closed on that dream. After a lifetime of disappointment, I should’ve been used to it, but reading through that letter crushed me.

Growing up, whenever I needed to get out of my house, I’d walk the two miles to the local library. I’d lose myself in the pages of different fairy tales, loving how the characters only needed a little magic to change their fate. While magic wasn’t an option in real life, I’d substituted it with hard work and dedication, thinking that would be enough to shift my story from the girl from the wrong side of the tracks into the princess in the gilded castle.

Too bad happily ever afters only exist on the pages of those stories. In my story, the heroine was too stubborn to listen to her advisor’s suggestion of applying to more than one college.

Foolishly, I’d beteverythingon Stanford, not even bothering to apply to any other schools before I turned in my early decision application, thinking it was just a formality. I’d checked every box, did everything I was supposedto do.

And my rejection wasn’t the worst part. No, that was the look on Josh’s face when I told him I wouldn’t be part of the freshman class with him. He’d gone cold, talking about his future in terms of “me”, instead of “we”. There were so many signs I missed. Naïve little Hadley still believed after all that, I’d end up with Josh, that we’d haveour picture-perfect wedding, and everything would be right in our world. We’d leave behind our divided town and shape our new lives. Together.

At least, until I walked in on him balls-deep in Deidre Panamater at our graduation party.

The picture didn’t have the same appeal after that.

On the one hand, it was good I found out the so-called “love of my life” was a philandering asshole who planned to spend his college years as a perpetual fuckboy extraordinaire. But the words he slung at me as he pulled up his jeans still stung, as if he’d inked them for everyone to see.

“Dating you was fine for high school, but I have to think about my future, Hads. My parents like you, but they’d never be okay with me settling down with some townie chick from Maple Ridge.“

Fine—not like I hadn’t heard it before. When you grew up in my section of town, people made assumptions. The crumbling apartment buildings and boarded-up windows didn’t exactly inspire warm, cozy vibes. But if you never looked beyond the surface, you failed to see all the good in that community. So many of our neighbors helped raise me—it was a family. Still, kids were cruel, and adults were even worse. I’d heard comments about where I lived since kindergarten; given my mom’s reputation, I was used to the sneers.

But hearing that pour out of the boy I loved? That brought every negative thought to the surface, breaking down my tough façade.

Luckily, that was months ago, and I refused to let the memories of Josh sour my new experience. Austin hadn’t been my original plan—hell, it wasn’t even my back-up plan. However, after Stanford rejected me,I couldn’t bring myself to even think about a different Ivy. I’d gambled and lost; I was in no hurry to repeat that mistake.

Thank goodness for rolling admissions and glowing recommendations from my teachers. I didn’t even remember how I learned of Walker University. It must have been one of the safety schools my advisor insisted I apply to, even though we both thought I would get into Stanford. But during the lowest moment of my life, there the brochure was, sitting on my desk like the answer to all my problems.

It turned out to be the best thing that could have happened to me.

Maybe in the future, I’d regret my decision, but today, I was ecstatic. This was it—day one of my new life. Despite my new RA’s shitty attitude and saccharine smirk, I was determined to get through it with a smile on my face.

“Stairs?” I asked, trying to hide my grin when her eyes widened. She pointed off to the far hallway, and I grabbed my cart, shoving my belongings away from the crowd. When I found the stairwell, I poked my head up, debating if the wait for the elevator would be worth it.

I leaned back into the hallway and sucked in a sharp breath. Somehow, the line seemed to have tripled in the last five minutes. A couple of fathers battled carts, trying to fit more than was physically possible into the elevator car. When one of them gave up, the elevator closed its doors with a weary groan, as if exhausted by the day.

No way in hell. The idea of being trapped inside an elevator was bad enough, but squeezing in with ten other college students determined to bring their stuff in as few trips as possible? That sounded like myabsolute nightmare.

At least the dorm’s entrance was on the second floor, leaving only four flights of stairs to my room.

“You got this, Hadley.” I turned to face my belongings. God, why did I bringallmy clothing? Not that there was any other option. When I lived at home, my room was small, and the lock on my door had seen better days. I’d invested in a deadbolt early on to make sure my mom didn’t “borrow” any of my stuff. If I left anything behind, it wouldn’t be there when—if—I ever went back.

As I stared at the flights of steps in front of me, I second-guessed that decision. Maybe the risk would have been worth it. At least then, I wouldn’t be stuck trying to drag everything up the stairs. I turned, placing my hands on my hips as I decided what to tackle first. Fine. I had this. It was only six suitcases. Six suitcases up four flights of stairs. Which meant?—