Sun-kissed (The Au Pairs 3)

scientists confirm what

girls already know; dopamine levels spike

when shopping

JULY IN NEW YORK WAS HOTTER THAN USUAL, AND ELIZA

cranked up the AC in the Land Rover as high as it would go. They made good time on the highway and arrived in Greenwich Village a little before noon. Most of New York University was situated around Washington Square Park, a small patch of green in the dense urban neighborhood.

Eliza pulled over to the curb next to the stone arch, a small replica of the Arc de Triomphe in Paris. The arch bore a huge purple banner with the NYU logo and the words WELCOME PROSPECTIVE FIRST-YEAR STUDENTS ! Several booths and registration tables were set up, and the park was lively with NYU students in purple T-shirts leading around excitable high school seniors. Purple balloons were everywhere. It was a cheerful, vibrant day, and already several students had started an Ultimate Frisbee game in the southeast corner.

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"So what do you think? It should end at about fou

r or five? We can pick you up then," Eliza said, unlocking the doors.

"Sure." Jacqui nodded, climbing out. She waved to the two of them from the sidewalk and watched as the car disappeared down the street. When they were definitely out of sight, Jacqui lost her ebullient facade, and her hand fell limp at her side.

Why couldn't she tell the truth? It wasn't like they would judge her or anything. They were her friends. But admitting to Mara and Eliza that she had failed would be like admitting to herself that she had fallen far short of her goal. And she just wasn't ready to do that.

A cute freckled boy wearing an NYU T-shirt found Jacqui walking furtively past the fringes of the event.

"Hey! Welcome to NYU. Will we be seeing you in the fall?" he asked, handing Jacqui an NYU button.

Jacqui colored. "Oh, oh no--no, you won't!" she said, before running past the arch and bursting into tears.

She furiously wiped her face with the back of her hand. This was no way to act. She was in New York, and there was absolutely no reason to cry. Okay, so she might have to go back to Brazil at the end of the summer, and maybe she'd have to be some kind of salesgirl all her life, but she didn't have to think about it right then. As she walked down Bleecker Street, she passed by the Marc Jacobs store.

The mannequin in the front window was wearing a cute pink bikini with purple hearts.

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Jacqui stopped sniffing and walked inside, pushing open the glass door, which tinkled to announce her arrival.

"Hi, can I help you?" a cheerful salesgirl asked.

Jacqui nodded. Okay, so every time she was depressed, she bought another bikini. But somehow, handing over the plastic made her feel better. That's why they call it retail therapy.

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mara visits the ivy in the apple

THE COLUMBIA CAMPUS WAS LOCATED FAR UPTOWN, ON the other side of the city. Eliza dropped Mara off right on 116th and Broadway, in front of College Walk--a pretty brick-lined street bordered by a row of trees on each side. Unlike NYU, Columbia had a proper campus. There were two green lawns in the middle of a square bordered by Low Library, a domed Palladian building on the north side, and on the south by Butler Library, which housed the university's book collection (one of the largest in the world, next to the Library of Congress). Etched in the pediments of both Low and Butler libraries were the names of Greek writers and philosophers in a majestic array: SOPHOCLES, Socrates, Herodotus, Homer.

Mara walked around, impressed by the scale and feeling of scholarship the architecture inspired. She hadn't expected Columbia to be so beautiful. She had visited Dartmouth and had immediately fallen in love with its leafy, colonial New England atmosphere, but Columbia had a different feel--it was an urban campus; New York was just outside the gates. It felt like a genteel sanctuary in a vibrant metropolis, offering the best of both worlds.

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Not that it mattered. Columbia might have classical architecture and a New York address, but it didn't have Ryan. She checked into a modern glass-and-steel building with crisscrossing entrance ramps. The admissions office had told her to meet her student guide in front of Ferris Booth Hall. Mara noticed how modern the cafe inside the building was and how chic the students looked-- unlike at Dartmouth, where a slouchy preppy homogeneity prevailed, with everyone wearing J. Crew sweaters or dressed down in slouchy sweatpants. The Columbia kids were a lot more dressed up, in fashionable jeans and hipster shades of black.

She approached a girl in low-rise jeans wearing a worn, vintage Skid Row band T-shirt and Puma sneakers. "Hi, are you Danielle?" she asked.

"I surely am. And that makes you Mara?" Mara nodded. "Thanks so much for giving me the tour." "Not a problem at all; I'm happy to show you around." Danielle smiled. She wore her hair in a ponytail, and Mara noticed she didn't wear a speck of makeup. None of the clothes she wore were trendy or expensive, but there was something fresh-faced, practical, and undeniably cool about her. Mara liked her on sight.

Danielle explained that she was a sophomore and from California. She was working in the dorms that summer and was a film and gender studies major. She chattered happily about her classes, Columbia's core curriculum, and the advantages and disadvantages of several first-year dorms.

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