“Yeah, I’d say so.”

He presses his hand to his chest in a dramatic fashion and glances up. “Thank you, Lord. I’ll be forever grateful.”

His antics make me laugh. “What was that?”

He returns my phone. “One thing to know about me. I’m the shit when it comes to fashion, arts, and such. Exact sciences? Not so much. We’re in math, physics, and biology together, which means you got yourself a side of rice.”

“A what?”

“A side of rice.” He shakes his head. “It’s a Brazilian thing. Basically, I’ll be stuck to you like glue, but I’ll never be more than a side of rice to your steak because I only drink one type of wine and you’re not it.”

“That’s an elaborate way to say you’re gay.”

“I know. What can I say? It gets boring after a while.”

“Are you Brazilian?”

“One of my mothers is.”

“Cool. I love Brazil. I’ve been to Rio and Salvador.”

His eyebrows shoot to the heavens. “Shut up! My mother is from Salvador. You need to come for dinner. She’ll love you. By the way, where are you staying?”

“At an apartment a block from here. The school helped me out.”

“Oh, you’re at Brandywine Hall, right?”

“Yeah.”

“A lot of out-of-town students live there. That’s cool. There have been some epic parties in that building. If the walls could talk.” He shakes his head, laughing. “We’d better get started with this tour or we’ll be late for class.”

Good on his word, at lunch break, Robbie introduces me to a bunch of people. Trying to memorize all their names is impossible though, even when I apply the trick of repeating their names back.

We grab our food from the cafeteria and then head out to eat at the beautiful park next to the school building. A couple of Robbie’s friends from the drama program are waiting for us under the shade of a big oak tree.

“How do you like school so far, Chiara?” a freckled guy wearing thick-rimmed glasses asks me.

“I love it.” I take a bite of my sandwich.

“Even AP math with Mr. Snoozeville?” The girl sitting next to me raises an eyebrow.

I laugh. “Even him. He wasn’t that boring.”

“Only because you’re an ace in the subject,” Robbie replies.

“What do you have after lunch?” the girl asks.

“Study hall and then writer’s room elective. I’m really excited about that.”

“Oh, that’s cool,” the freckled guy pipes up, and then he reaches inside his backpack. “Look what Mom sent, guys.”

“Brownies!” the girl exclaims excitedly. “Those are the best. Gimme it.”

He pulls the plastic container away from her greedy hands. “Wait. Chiara first since she’s new here.”

I shake my head. “Oh, I don’t know. Eating sugar now would probably make me sleepy.”

“Drink a shot of espresso,” Robbie chimes in. “You need to eat one of these brownies. They melt in your mouth.”

“All right. Twist my arm, why don’t you?” I grab the smallest piece from the box and then take a bite. “Fudge. This is really good.”

“Told ya.” Robbie smirks and then grabs a piece too.

I devour my brownie in three huge bites, regretting going for the smaller piece. But I won’t be a glutton and take another one.

Ten minutes later, we go back inside. Robbie and his friends head to their respective classes, and I go to the library to get some reading done and check my emails. I forget to buy coffee before, but I feel fine, which is surprising. Maybe I’ll get sleepy later.

It’s not until I have five minutes left of study hall that I begin to feel strange. I’m light-headed, and the library seems to be spinning out of control.

What the hell?

I think it’s time for that coffee after all.

I pack my things, and when I stand up, I almost fall on my ass. Bracing my hands on the desk, I take deep breaths, waiting for the dizzy spell to pass.

It helps a little, and I manage to walk out of the library without kissing the floor. But once in the hallway, things become worse. I keep seeing everything double. I flatten my back against the wall and text Robbie.

ME: What the hell were in those brownies?

ROBBIE: Nothing. Why?

ME: I’m seeing double, FFS.

I wait for his response, getting more panicked by the second. Finally, the three dots appear.

ROBBIE: Harold thinks you might have eaten one of his special brownies by accident.

Porca miseria!

I have several choice words that I’d like to yell at Robbie and Harold, but that wouldn’t make me suddenly sober.

ME: I have writer’s room now. What am I going to do?

ROBBIE: Wear sunglasses and try to not draw attention to yourself.

Great. My first day of school and I managed to get high by accident.