I didn’t try the door to see whether it was unlocked; it was one thing to show up a few minutes early, and quite another to miss the mark by hours. I went back to my dorm, grabbed some dinner at the dining hall, and spent the rest of the night trying to imagine what this group might be about. I was feeling pretty confident that either Hunter or Chloe had started it, but who else would they have invited? The soccer team? Chloe’s roommate? I’d noticed some girls had figured out who Chloe was and were starting to shadow her around campus, wearing outfits similar to hers; would this end up being a club of her followers?
I showed up just before midnight and got part of the answer to my question: both Hunter and Chloe were there, along with the wiry girl from Game Night who I’d so wanted to get to know. Jo, Chloe had said. “Amina!” Hunter yelled, clearly both surprised and happy to see me, and gave me a hug.
I had not expected this—so far we were class-and-lunch friends, not hugging friends—so it took me a minute to hug him back. “Hey, Hunter,” I said, bringing my conversational A game, as always. “Hi, Chloe.”
“So you’re not in charge of this,” she said, frowning. “I’d been so sure.”
I laughed. “Funny, I thought it was you.” I wondered why neither of us had been willing to ask the other, but I supposed we didn’t know each other that well yet.
“We’ve already established that it wasn’t Hunter or Jo,” she said. “Have you two met yet?”
“I’m Amina,” I said. “Did anyone knock?”
Before she could answer, the door swung open. Standing in front of us was the shaggy-haired boy from Game Night, a huge grin on his face. “Come in, come in,” he said, practically bouncing up and down. “I wasn’t sure how many chairs to set up, but it looks like there’ll be plenty. Any trouble finding the place?”
The place in question was indeed a fallout shelter, a square space I estimated to be the size of two dorm rooms, with a little door in the back corner that most likely led to a bathroom. The floor was the same concrete gray as the tunnels, the walls covered in the same cement blocks, but in front of two of them were floor-to-ceiling metal shelves filled with canned goods, bottled water, and first-aid supplies, along with what appeared to be tool kits. The shaggy-haired boy had set up seven or eight spindly folding chairs in a circle in the center of the room, but there were only five of us, including him, which meant he’d sent out more invitations. Had the others gotten lost? Or were they just not into it? It didn’t matter to me; I was happy to be among the few and the proud who’d made their way here, and I didn’t love big groups anyway. The shaggy-haired boy plunked himself down on one of the chairs, and we all followed suit.
Hunter spoke first. “It wasn’t that hard, getting here. I started on Google and tried to figure out what kind of place would be safest, and bomb shelter seemed like the obvious choice. From there it was just a matter of finding it, and here we are.” He opened his arms to indicate the room. How had he found it so fast? Had he already been underground?
“I went straight for the blueprints,” Chloe said. “The originals were on the town hall website.”
“Such high-tech activity for a low-tech task,” Jo said. “The blueprints are in the library, dorks.”
“I bet it took Chloe half the time to find it,” Hunter said. I was not loving how he jumped to her defense, especially when I was pretty sure she didn’t need that kind of help.
Chloe smirked, and I waited for her to lay into Hunter. But her half grin was for Jo. “Your nicknames were much more creative on Game Night.”
Jo stared at her for a moment, and I wondered whether the group was doomed before we’d even gotten going. But then she laughed. “You’re absolutely right,” she said. “I went for the low-hanging fruit. I’ll do better next time, I promise.”
I was relieved she’d cleared the air, but that meant it was my turn. “I wish I had all your confidence. It took me ages to find this place.” I told them about working through all the different theories before spelunking underground. “I started making my own map, but I’m sure the blueprints are better. I’ll have to print up a copy myself.”
“I can do it!” the shaggy-haired boy said. Such enthusiasm! “I’ve got copies already, and I made a map of just the tunnels, too. I’m so glad you made it here! This is the only fallout shelter on campus, and it was built back in the eighties, when everyone thought nuclear war was right around the corner. It was designed for just the school’s president and his family, which is why it’s so small.”
Exactly what I thought. “And everyone else could just crawl off and die?” Jo asked. “This school is cold, man.”
“And it’s not even winter yet!” I said, though I regretted the dumb joke immediately.
Hunter was the only one who seemed amused. “Dad jokes,” he said. “My favorite. Maybe because my dad is completely humorless.”
I admitted my dad and I had a competition, ourselves. “But we go for groans more than laughs.”
“Lucky for you,” Chloe said. “Put me on Team Humorless Dad.”
“That’s my team too,” the shaggy-haired boy said.
“Not mine,” Jo said. “My dad’s dead. Mom, too.”
The room got very, very quiet.
Then she laughed. “Oh, come on, it’s fine. You’ll laugh at dad jokes but dark humor is too much?”
“So your parents aren’t dead?” Chloe asked.
“No, they are, but I’ve had time to get used to it. Don’t worry, I’m okay. But if we’re already getting into family stories then maybe we need to get better acquainted.” She turned to our fearless leader, whose name we still didn’t know. “I got everyone’s names in the hall except yours, Shaggy.”
The boy touched his hair, and I felt bad she’d made him feel self-conscious. “I’m Wyatt,” he said. “If you all got to know each other already, then maybe we should just get started.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I said.
“That’s great!” Wyatt nodded enthusiastically. I got the sense he did everything enthusiastically. “So here’s the thing: this is the first school I’ve ever been to. I grew up on a kind of commune, but my parents split up and they told me I could pick whatever school I wanted, as long as I could get a scholarship.”
It was refreshing to hear someone talk so openly about being a scholarship kid. I wondered whether I’d have the courage, if it came up. It’s not that I minded, or was embarrassed by it, but the culture around here didn’t really lend itself to being so up-front.
“Anyway,” Wyatt went on, “I’ve never really had to, like, go out and make friends. But after Game Night I thought maybe I could find the people who seemed to be having fun and we could start a club. We could play some other games, or just talk, or whatever. And I know it’s early to be thinking about college, but it can’t hurt to get involved in something, right?”
“What would we talk about? Like, what’s this club about, exactly?” This came from Jo, who’d stretched out so far in her folding chair she seemed to take up half the room. I’d been trying not to stare at her, convinced she’d be able to see how intrigued I was by her, but it seemed okay to look at her while she was speaking. She’d been so edgy with the meth chemist at Game Night that I’d been sure she’d be all sharp and sarcastic, but she just seemed curious about what Wyatt was saying. Not at all what I’d expected.