Free The Raising by Laura Kasischke

looking like models, and Nicole had definitely been one of those. And up until now, when he’d seen her around campus, she’d seemed to be carrying on the tradition. Even when they were just meeting in the lounge for study group, she’d been in a neat blouse or sweater. One night, she’d even worn a skirt and sandals with heels.
    Nicole wrapped her arms around herself. She looked down at her feet, which Perry was surprised to see were bare.
    “I’m not so great, I guess,” she said.
    “What do you mean?” he asked.
    Perry thought maybe she meant she had the flu or something. She looked like she had the flu, but maybe that was just the harsh electric light over the stairs.
    “I don’t know. I guess I’m having adjustment issues,” she said.
    “To college?” he asked.
    She nodded, and made a puckery little expression with her lips. Perry hoped she wasn’t going to cry. What was he supposed to do if she did? He didn’t have a handkerchief on him, and he couldn’t imagine giving her his shoulder, or putting his arm around her. He’d have to just stand there like an idiot, saying stupid things, until she stopped.
    Unable to think of anything else to say, Perry shrugged and said, “Yeah, well. It’s not like high school.”
    “Not that high school was so great,” Nicole said.
    “You always seemed pretty happy.”
    “I did?” She looked up at him with what appeared to be genuine surprise.
    “Well. I don’t know,” Perry said. “Weren’t you?”
    “Well, I guess it was better than this,” she said, looking out at the courtyard of Godwin Honors Hall. “But I hated it.”
    Perry snorted a little. He couldn’t help it. He pictured Nicole in that bright floral dress, accepting the Ramsey Luke Scholarship from Mr. Krug, then climbing the step to the lectern to deliver her valedictorian speech about the importance of being “first and foremost moral people.”
    Nicole seemed to have heard the little involuntary sound he’d made, and her eyebrows sprang up. “What?” she asked, locking her eyes onto his.
    Perry looked away fast, down at his own shadow stretched between them. He cleared his throat. “Well,” he said, running a hand over the top of his head. “It’s just that . . . well, you were the queen of the school, Nicole. You did everything , or won everything, or were president of it. What wasn’t to like?”
    She let her arms drop to her sides. Her eyes seemed to be pooling with tears.
    Shit, Perry thought. She was going to cry.
    “Are you still pissed at me about the scholarship, Perry?” she asked in a trembling voice.
    “What?!” Perry took a step back, and nearly stumbled down the stairs. The girls who’d been sitting there had left; now there was only a cigarette butt where they’d been. He put his hand on his chest.
    “ ‘What?’ ” Nicole echoed, putting her own hand on her own chest, mocking him. She said, “Don’t you know I only got the Ramsey Luke because you got every other award?”
    Perry shook his head. He felt he could actually hear something rattling around inside his skull. He said, trying hard to sound convincing, if only to himself, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
    “Oh, get off it, Perry,” Nicole said. “Why are you so competitive? I mean, haven’t you won enough stuff? You still have to begrudge everybody else the few bones they tossed us?”
    Perry stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He was pretty sure they were shaking. He said, “Why are we having this conversation? I was just on my way to bed.”
    “We’re having this conversation because . . .” Nicole seemed to choke on whatever she meant to say next, and then, to Perry’s horror, a few fat teardrops actually spilled out of her eyes and onto her cheeks. He opened his mouth, more in protest against the tears than to say something, and then she buried her face in her hands and sobbed, “Because we’re family. We’re like family , Perry. You’re the only