Going Geek Read Free Page A

take the elevator up but leave my things in the hallway before knocking on an old wooden door with a nameplate that reads KIM RANDALL , then HEAD OF COLLEGE COUNSELING underneath. My faculty advisor is also my college counselor. Double whammy.
    “Yes.” It’s a deceptively soft voice that somehow manages to penetrate through the closed door.
    I push it open. “Hi, Ms. Randall.”
    She’s really not a scary-looking woman. She has rich brown skin, shrewd eyes, and light, springy curls, cut in a way that gives her head an almost heart shape. Despite her pleasant voice and appearance, nobody who’s met her more than once would underestimate her ability and fondness for cutting people to the quick. “Ms. Hoffman. Welcome back. Was your summer productive?”
    “Yeah. I read scripts for my mom while working on my tan by the pool. It wasn’t a terrible way to spend the summer.” This is what I’ve been telling everyone. Waitressing would destroy my cred with this crowd.
    Ms. Randall eyes me, unimpressed. “I see. Do we have an appointment so early in the year?” She slides her rolling chair back slightly from her desk and peers at me over the top of her reading glasses.
    “Kinda sorta,” I begin.
    “Try to be more precise, please.”
    I take a breath and start over. “I received an email about housing—”
    “Ah, yes. Thank goodness. I am not ready to discuss colleges with
you
yet.”
    Ouch. But I smile, like I think she’s joking, even though I’m already dreading our first college counseling meeting. I didn’t do half the things she wanted me to do over the summer. Oh well. First things first.
    While she scrolls through her inbox, I resist fidgeting. She scared the habit out of me when I was a first-year.
    “Yes, due to a technical error, too many students were placed in Lincoln. The problem was discovered only last week, and, as a result, Housing had to move people without any input. You’ve been reassigned to Abbot House, where you’ll share a room with Opal Kingston.”
    The floor drops out from under me. “What?” My voice comes out shaky. There are twenty girls’ dorms at Winthrop, and I get stuck with Abbot House?
    Ms. Randall gives me a cool stare. She’s waiting for me to collect myself, to say something more eloquent, but that’s not likely to happen. “Your keys should be downstairs in your mailbox. Is there anything else I can help you with?”
    “Yes. Help me find a way to stay in Lincoln. That’s where my life is. After three years of being at the center of everything, Abbot would be way too removed, not to mention bleak and depressing.” I’m aware that I’m babbling, but nobody with a brain would’ve made this recommendation.
    She’s still looking at me, completely dispassionate. “Maybe a change of scenery will do you good. I’m not entirely sure three years of being ‘at the center of everything’ has brought out the best in you.”
    I have no idea what she’s talking about. Since she’s not exactly approachable, it’s not like I’ve been running to her office every five seconds. Where does she get off acting like she knows me? “Is there anyone else I can talk to about this?”
    “I’m afraid not.”
    I press my lips together, deciding whether I should say what I’m about to say. “Is this about money?”
    Ms. Randall snorts. It’s such a condescending sound that my cheeks flush with both anger and embarrassment. “Winthrop Academy has an extremely healthy endowment. One reason I took this job is because that allows us to offer meaningful financial aid. Providing assistance for one more student isn’t going to break this place.”
    My glance darts to the door, and I’m relieved to see that it’s closed tightly. “I can’t believe they’d do this to a senior. Why wouldn’t they move a first-year instead?”
    “If a first-year was moved to accommodate you, you’d have to room with another first-year. That wouldn’t work, since first-years and seniors have