Prologue

The smell of stale coffee radiated throughout the station from the stand in the corner. The dozen other passengers stood around, staring at their phones or newspapers. Except for the girl with a messy, dark brown, almost black ponytail pulled through her tattered baseball cap. Clarke stood, music playing on her headphones, lost in thought, eyes staring straight ahead, focusing on nothing. Her moment had come; she was finally leaving. Her bags were packed, and she was ready to board a bus to her new start.

She may be leaving a place she loved, but she was also leaving all the baggage it held. She was leaving a crappy job, a stagnant relationship, and a city where everyone she knew had moved away and moved on. While that knowledge made her a little homesick, she knew it was for the best.

As much as she still loved the city, it held too much heartbreak now. Its streets had become filled with sadness and reminders of her failures. She couldn't turn a corner without being confronted with regrets and missed opportunities. As she wandered around the bus station, sipping her coffee, she could see the building where she hadn't gotten her dream job. It was six months after graduation, and she had been applying and interviewing all over the city. She found a job as a marketing assistant at R&P, one of the best firms in the city. There was a lot of room for growth; if she got this job, she would never need to go anywhere else. She knew getting the position would be challenging, and dozens of people were applying. Still, it was too good of an opportunity to pass up.

She got past the first round of interviews and felt very good about her answers. By the second round, the applicant pool was down to five. This interview would be with some of the company's executives. She left her 90-minute interview feeling good. She stumbled on a few answers and might not have been as experienced as the other, but she felt like there was a chance. About a week later, she got a call telling her they were "going in a different direction." Even though it was a long shot, the rejection crushed her, and she sat in her apartment in shock as she processed the news. It took her a few weeks to recover before she could continue her job search.

It was not all bad; there were a lot of good memories as well. A few blocks down from where she stood now was where she fell in love with the city. It was the summer after her sophomore year when he had gotten a waitressing job downtown. One night after her shift, she stepped outside, and the city was alive. She may have been exhausted, but the city was still buzzing with activity. She saw a couple snuggled on a bench beside the train tracks. The bars were humming with activity as patrons spilled into the patios. As she walked back to her apartment, she saw the audiences from concerts and plays filling out into the warm summer night. It was close to midnight, and there was still so much this place had to offer. It was then, at that moment, that she knew she never wanted to leave this city.

But that seemed like such a long time ago. Sadness infected the joy and excitement the city once held. All her good memories had become tainted by regret and grief. The city had become littered with her failures.

Freshman Year

I

It had not always been that way; she remembered coming here on one of her first college visits. As a girl from the suburbs, she was in awe of the city. She went to college at Franklin University because she wanted to live in the city. She loved that the campus was in the city's heart and was within walking distance of an art gallery, two museums, bars, and some great parks. It made committing that much easier. Then, in late August, she was back for Freshman Orientation. That was when she met Dylan. Like some weird modern fairy tale, they met on move-in day. She was balancing three boxes, and the top one was slipping. Like Prince Charming in jorts and a backward baseball cap, he swooped in to help her.

"Need some help?" a voice behind her asked. She turned around, losing control of the box, which spilled its contents all over the lobby's black and white tile floor. She groaned loudly, put the other boxes on the floor, and started to pick up the contents.

"Sorry about that," he said as he bent down to help pick up the box's papers, pens, and other office supplies.

He put the last few items in and picked up the box. "I got it," he said. Which floor are we going to?"

"Fourth, Room 406," she said as the elevator door opened.

"You can put that one on the bed," she said when they arrived at her dorm room.

"By the way, my name is Dylan," he said, holding his hand out. Thank you for your help, Dylan. I'm Clarke," she responded, shaking his hand.

"Got any more boxes to bring up?" he asked.

"Yeah, one more load."

They returned to the car, where Clarke's mom was waiting with the van in the loading dock on the side of the building. "Mom, this is Dylan. He's offered to give me a hand with this last load. Dylan, this is my mom."

"Nice to meet you," Dylan extended his hand.

"You too," she responded, giving him the classic mom once over. She had done this to every boyfriend Clarke had in high school. She always seemed to have some intuition regarding "the wrong guy." She was never judgmental about Clarke's choices. She was always there with a sappy rom-com and a big bag of kettle corn if the relationship ended in tears. Dylan seemed to pass her initial test. They grabbed the last two boxes and went back to Clarke's room.

"Thanks so much for your help," she said when the last boxes were in the room.

"Happy to help. I'm only a few floors up on 6. Room 628, if you want to hang out later."

"Yeah, sure. I might have time to stop by once I get all this unloaded,"

"I look forward to it, Clarke," he said as he walked out of the room towards the stairwell.

She ran back downstairs to say goodbye to her mom.

"I like him," her mom said, gesturing towards Dylan, who was leaving the dorm.

"Goodbye, Mom," Clarke laughed, wanting to give that comment as little acknowledgment as possible.

She then went about unloading and stashing away all her things. She was starting to make a dent when her roommate came in.

"You must be Clarke," she said, "I'm Becky," she said, putting down the bag she was carrying.

"Do you need help?" Clarke asked.

"That would be great. I still have a few loads down in the car."

They went to the loading dock, where Becky's car was parked. "It's the blue Fiesta," she said. The back seat was filled with two large containers, and the trunk contained a few random boxes and suitcases. When Becky's stuff was in their room, she looked at all her stuff and said, "I don't feel like dealing with this right now. Any chance you want to go get some food from the Union?"

"Yeah, let's go," Clarke said.

When they entered the massive red brick building in the middle of campus, they passed the food court full of fast food places that would be lovingly called "The Grease Pit" and walked up the stairs to the dining hall. Dinner that night was Salisbury steak, a veggie mix, mashed potatoes, and gravy.

"I don't think I have ever had bad mashed potatoes," Becky commented as they sat down.

"Clearly, you haven't had Aunt Tracy's," Clarke said with a laugh. As they ate, the two roommates got to know one another. Becky was from Kentucky and came to college up north because she wanted to be far from her family. A year ago, her grandmother died, and the will reading caused a fracture among some of her family members. She had taken her share and put it into going to college.

"It got scary; it almost came to blows a few times. My dad and his sister were angry when their younger brother's name came up in the will. He had been estranged from everyone else for a few years. He had been in and out of rehab and couldn't hold down a job for longer than six months. They felt they deserved more than him, but they all got an equal share. I got out of there fast. She had always promised to help me pay for college; what she left was enough to get started."

"You think you'll ever go back?" Clarke asked, "Move back, I mean."

"Probably not. I love my family, but they showed me who they really are. I cannot shake some of what they said to and about one another. They were so quick to anger and had no compassion. My uncle is not a bad guy. He had a bad go of it and never recovered," Becky sighed. "But enough about my family drama. What about you?"

Clarke told her about growing up in the suburbs and her ever-growing desire to move to a city. When she applied to colleges, she jumped at the chance to go to a place unlike where she grew up as possible.

"There is something I have always loved about a city. I visited New York City a lot growing up, and I still hope to move there one day. I loved walking down the street, taking a left, and discovering something amazing. I love a nice backyard as much as the next person, but nothing compares to how alive a city feels. In the 'burbs, you have to drive for 10 minutes to see anything interesting. You take two steps off this campus and are in the middle of something."

"You are preaching to the choir here," Becky said. "It's not like I came from a one-traffic light town, but it was damn close."

They spent a long time chatting and laughing, comparing stories and experiences. By the time they left, the Union was going to close. As they headed back to the dorm, she remembered Dylan's invitation. She felt terrible but had only met him and figured she would eventually run into him.

When they got back, they noticed that the door to room 405 was open. They went over to introduce themselves. Courtney and Lilly were locals and had been best friends since Kindergarten when Lilly moved in next door. They were both the babies of the family; Court had two older brothers, and Lilly had an older sister.

"We both relished being the youngest. Our siblings were always there for us, helping us with more than a few scrapes with our parents." Courtney said. "They laughed at our epic failures."

"Like when you were trying to sneak out of the house and ended up twisting your ankle when you tripped over your mom's rosebushes,"

"I was pulling thrones out of legs for days," Court says, laughing.

"It did pay to be the youngest."

"Wouldn't know. Only child," Clarke said.

"And I'm the oldest of two, but my brother is only about a year younger, so I didn't get much of a head start on him. We basically grew up at the same time. We were only a grade level apart. Best I could do is tell him what teachers to avoid."

Courtney and Lilly grew up and attended school in the city; their high school was a few blocks from campus."We will be your guides. "We know all the best places to go and things to do," Lilly said excitedly when Clarke talked about her small-town upbringing.

"The waterfront was a place to avoid a few years ago but has become a go-to destination in the past few years. They have places to bike, and you can rent kayaks and other stuff to go out on the water. It's very nice down there now." Lilly said. "And if you are here during the summer, something is always going on down there: concerts, movies, festivals, stuff like that." They spent the following few hours swapping stories about growing up.

Clarke and Becky headed back to their room after midnight. The first orientation session was at 7:30. Whatever was not already unpacked was put in a corner, and the two of them went to bed.

II

The next morning, at seven, Becky and Clarke entered the quad to sign in for day one of Freshman orientation. They were given the schedule of the day's events, information sessions, and tours. They met with Court and Lilly as they walked to Hammond Hall's auditorium for opening remarks. The remarks were all the usual fare: "Welcome to Franklin," "We are lucky to have you," and "Here is what makes us a special place for learning."

That morning's sessions were financial aid and the college's academic support programs. All the incoming freshmen filed into Smith Hall, where the large lecture halls were. Luckily, Clarke and Becky were assigned the same room and got seats next to one another. It was during that morning session that their bond solidified. In the following years, they would joke that the hours of PowerPoints, drowning presenters, and technical glitches were what "trama-bonded" them. After lunch with Lilly and Court, Clarke met with her advisor, Dr. Tenenbaum.

When Tenenbaum asked if she had a major in mind, she said, "I'm not sure, but I am leaning towards Marketing."

"Why marketing?"

"I have never thought about it, but...it has always fascinated me how much work and research goes into a simple ad."

"If you want to be done here in four years, it's best to declare as soon as possible. Early second semester at the latest. In the meantime, you can focus on your gen ed classes. ENG 100 is a no-brainer; any lower-lever math class will do. How are you at math?"

"I'm okay, I got through pre-calc in high school."

"Great. Then you should take (CLASS). I can give you a few classes that would allow you to dip your toe in marketing and get your foot in the door in the marketing department. Try (CLASS A and CLASS B) and then my last bit of advice is to find a fun class to take, an art or film class, for instance. The first semester can be a bit stressful, so I always recommend finding something lighter to take for the hell of it. A few years ago, someone came in wanting to do PoliSci and ended up majoring in film studies and minoring in communication. It was all because of a throwaway film class he took. He published his second book about the Hayes Code last year. I'm not saying you will completely change your major, but you never know."

"I'll keep that in mind," Clarke said.

Tenenbalm jotted down a few more classes she should consider and handed her the paper. "Thanks for coming in. You would not believe how many freshmen skip these."

"Thanks for your help," Clarke said as she left.

She had about 30 minutes to kill before the afternoon session started, so she returned to her room. Becky wasn't there, so Clarke set the alarm on her phone and lay in bed.

Clarke was jolted awake when the alarm went off. She grabbed her jacket and rushed to Hammond Hall for the afternoon sessions. "I'm on my way." she texted Becky as she raced across campus. "Saving your seat," came the response. She got to the lecture hall before the presentation was starting. "I went back to the room after my meeting and passed out," Clarke whispered to Becky as she sat down. There was only one session, so after another long and mostly pointless two hours, it was time to register for classes. She took Tenanbalm's advice and found a few Gen Ed classes and an Intro to Marketing. She even added an Intro Drawing class as her fun one. She even managed to get into a few of the same Gen Ed classes as Becky. As they were headed back to the dorm, Clarke saw Dylan on the other side of the quad.

Back in their dorm, Court and Lilly were making plans for the evening. "As your official guides to the city, we want to give you your first night out," Courtney said. "Parkway. That street where the main entrance is has many things to do. It's called the 'Park Strip.' Parkway was one of the main arteries radiating from downtown to the city's outskirts. Much of the area near Franklin College had been built up with coffee shops, late-night food spots, and, of course, bars. Everything an 18-year-old college Freshman could want on their weekends free from responsibilities.

"This place never IDs. I have been coming here since I was 16 and only got carded once, and that bouncer doesn't work here anymore," Courtney said as they headed across the street.

"That sounds ominous," Becky said.

"Oh, no. He was overcharging for cover and pocketing the difference," Court said.

Sure enough, the man at the door nodded as they walked up and went right in. The place was narrow but long. The bar took up half a wall in the front, and old arcade machines lined the other wall. In the back were six booths, but most of the customers were sticking to the bar area. They made their way to the crowded bar to get drinks.

"Court! What can I getcha?" the bartender said when he saw the four of them.

"We here here first," someone yelled from the other end of the bar.

"VIP!" the bartender yelled back and turned toward the girls.

"Four gin and tonics," Courtney said, lightly touching his hand.

"Coming right up."

They paid for their drinks and found an empty booth. "So, what's with you and that bartender?" Clarke asked?

"Who? Aaron? It's nothing. He wants to fuck me, and I let him think I will. In return, he adds a little extra liquor to my drinks."

"That's her go-to move," Lilly chimed in. "We've gotten into concerts for free with this strategy. I keep telling her it's going to come back and bite her in the ass one day, but she refuses to listen to me."

"It has a 100 percent success rate, so..." Courtney takes a sip to punctuate her argument.  

After a few drinks, they left the bar and walked further down Parkway. Courtney and Little pointed out other places of interest, some of which would become their go-to spots in later years. After a few more drinks at some other bars, they headed back to campus.

The next morning, feeling hungover, they signed in for day two of orientation. She saw Dylan in one of the front rows as they sat down. She wanted to yell out, but her head was pounding. She took some aspirin and a breakfast sandwich from one of the places in "The Grease Pit."

"No better cure for a hangover than a big, greasy breakfast sandwich," Becky said. "It never fails. Trust me."

"I hope I can eat it without throwing up all over the row in front of us."

"Well, luckily, we have two short sessions this morning and are done."

"How the hell are you so chipper right now? You drank more than I did!"

"There's not much to do in my town other than swipe booze from your parents and drink with your friends in the woods. Last night was nothing. You'll be fine."

Clarke took a bite of her sandwich and put it on the table while waiting for the presentations to start. The presenters talked to them about the study abroad programs, campus safety, and employment opportunities. Clarke pretended to pay attention, but all she wanted was for her headache to go away and for these people to shut up.

Somehow, she kept her breakfast down and made it through the last session. Seeing that Clarke was still in bad shape, Becky helped her back to the room and into bed.

"Take a nap. I have a Communication Department meetup in a few minutes. We can do something after."

Clarke gave her a thumbs up and promptly fell asleep.

When she woke up, Becky was back and sitting at her computer.

"She's alive! How ya feeling?"

"Much better," Clarke said, sitting up. "How was your thing?"

"Good. Got to mingle with other Com majors a bit. You up for exploring the city a bit?"

Clarke looked at her, "No drinking!"

"Coffee count?"

"I'll accept that. Let's go."

Parkway gave off a whole different vibe in the daylight. There were a few small coffee shops and many more restaurants than she had noticed the night before. After stopping to get some coffee, the two walked further downtown. Their campus was about a half-mile from the "heart of downtown," they spent the rest of the afternoon exploring the area that would become their home. They took in the sights and sounds of everything around them. The sun was setting when they returned to campus to get food.

"Whatcha wanna do tonight? Lil and I are going to a frat party. Want to come?" Courtney asked when they got back.

Clarke started to say something, but Becky chimed in, "I'm not feeling too well. Mighta been something I ate at the Union."

"I'm going to chill with Becky; make sure she's okay," Clarke added, picking up on what Becky was doing.

"Well, if you feel better, it's over on Oak Street."

"Maybe, " Clarke said. Courtney went back into her room to finish getting ready.

"Thanks for covering for me, " Clarke said. "I have no desire to go to a frat party tonight."

"Believe me. You aren't ready for two nights of drinking. We will get you there, thought," Becky said with a smile.