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around,” Tosha states confidently. “Probably just getting a feel for you.”
    “We’ll see.” I lift my head up from my pillow. “Where are you going?”
    “Target.” Slowly, Tosha twirls and looks at me. “How do I look?”
    I take in her blue, short shorts and yellow blouse. “For Target, you look great.”
    “The last time I went, I wore a khaki skirt and a red polo. I had someone come up to me and ask what aisle the cold sore cream was in. I’m just making sure I don’t have the Target employee vibe this time.”
    My smile spreads so wide my cheeks hurt. “You are Target free,” I promise.
    “Good!” she shouts and walks out the door.
    As I think over Tosha’s words, my smile fades.
    ‘You’re going to find someone that reads you right back.’.
    It feels like a warning to me … that someday I might meet my match.
    Seconds later, my phone rings. I grab it and read Tosha’s text:  Be broken glass .
    Tosha is trying to be encouraging. But all I can see in her words is that I have to break in order to succeed.

Chapter Five
    EMILIA
     
    I make it to The Study right on time, proud of myself for finding the damn building. It’s on the opposite side of my dorms. I get to the front counter and ask to be pointed in the right direction.
    “Private tutoring is located at the Education Library, dear,” the nasally old lady behind the front counter says. She picks up a campus map and points to a building in the opposite direction, right by my dorm.   
    By the time I reach the right building, I’m more than late. I’m the awkward late—the kind where the minute anyone walks into the room, everybody lifts their heads up and stares at the person who can’t tell time.
    I run straight to the information counter. A short girl with a pixie cut and funky glasses smiles happily at me. “May I help you?”
      “I’m here for private tutoring,” I say out of breath, cheeks flushed.
      “Oh.” Pixie Girl frowns and points at the shut doors clear across the room. “That started about twenty minutes ago.”
      “I know, I went to the wrong place the first time.”
      Pixie gives me a look that says, ‘Okay, Dumbass.’
      Honestly, I have no idea why I’m wasting time explaining anything to the pixie. I stride across the room, toward the oak doors with determination and confidence.
      When I open the doors, no one looks up—everyone is too busy looking at their laptops or reading the textbooks in front of them. I let out a sigh of relief and scan the faces, trying to find the person I need to check in with.
      No one stands out to me. I’m close to sliding out the doors and running back to Pixie Girl, when I catch Melissa Woods talking quietly.
      Meeting Melissa last May was probably the only positive thing about my visit. My nerves were out to play that day and she was instantly friendly. Melissa stuck out as a person with such a kind heart.
    Everything starts to look a bit better as I tap her on the shoulder because there is someone here that I kinda, sorta know. 
      When Melissa turns around, it’s clear she kinda, sorta does not remember me. I smile weakly and say, “Hey.”
      It takes her a few seconds before her eyes widen and she smiles happily. “Oh ... oh! Hey, how are you?”
      I lean a hip against the table. “It’s the end of the first week of classes and I’m here for tutoring, so ... not too good.”
      Quickly, Melissa stands up and smiles—actually, I don’t think she has stopped smiling since we started talking. Genuinely happy people are hard to come by.
    She pats me on the shoulder. “Are you kidding? Everyone gets a little confused. It’s no big deal. Give me your paperwork and I’ll help you out.”
    “You’re the person I check in with?”
    She grins at me. “I’m that and the person that assigns you to a tutor.”
    I smile widely as I search for my paperwork. Maybe she’ll be my tutor…
      Melissa scans my info, while I watch with an antsy