"You finally picked a dress yet?" Vince's voice at the door landed like a question and a dare.
"No," Cora shot back without looking up. "I have three that are unacceptable and one that's borderline tragic."
Andrea laughed from the doorway of the hallway, hands full of a travel tote. "Borderline tragic will do for the freshman initiation."
"That is not how college starts," Cora said. She held up a floral dress and then a plain blue one. "This says 'I read the syllabi.' That says 'I text my mother every hour.'"
"Which one says 'I will sign up for lab sections at eight because I am terrified of missing anything'?" Vince asked, stepping into the room. He dropped his backpack, then paused at the sight of her frozen with fabric draped over her arm.
Cora swallowed. "That one," she admitted.
Vince crossed to her, slow and steady. He wore a gray hoodie and jeans. He looked older than the last time she saw him at the park, not by much, but the difference hit like a fact you couldn't argue with.
"Too much princess," he said, holding up one dress. "Too much librarian," he said about another. He gestured at the blue one and smiled. "Pick the one you feel like."
"That's nonsense," Andrea said, setting her tote down and moving to the mirror. "She feels like a disaster."
"That counts," Vince said. "Disasters are a vibe."
Cora laughed. She hadn't meant to laugh
