One week later, I wasn’t any closer to figuring out how to find my happiness. I’d been too busy getting myself ready for the start of the new school year and trying to help the group of incoming freshman I’d been working with prepare for their move onto campus. Most days, it felt like a losing battle. They needed so much and had so little. But that didn’t stop them from giving me a hard time about being a local celebrity after they heard about that dumb article in the paper. Extra time hadn’t helped me with my discomfort over it. And it only got worse when I was called into the public relations office.

“You want me to do what?” I shook my head, giving her the physical equivalent of the verbal response since I knew better than to actually say no to a higher-up at the school. The state might have been the one picking up the tab for my tuition and fees as part of their exemption program for former foster kids, plus the stipend to help with living expenses, but I didn’t want to end up on anyone’s radar and run the risk of losing it all by getting kicked out of school.

“One of our donors reached out to us after reading your interview in the newspaper. She’d like to have lunch with you today,” the PR Director explained again.

Hearing it the second time around didn’t help me make any sense out of what she’d told me. “But why?”

“Because she wants to help your incoming students outfit their dorm rooms.”

Shit, I was going to have to say yes. Moving onto campus was an exciting time for most students, but it was also stressful as fuck for foster kids because they didn’t have the same kind of resources. No family to help with the move-in process. Nobody to take them shopping to buy the myriad of things needed for life in the dorm. Or to take them to the campus bookstore to buy school apparel that proudly proclaimed you were a student here—or even just notebooks, pens, and highlighters. If me going to lunch with some lady meant their transition to college was easier than mine had been, then turning down the offer wasn’t an option.

“Count me in. Where and when?”

I barely stifled a groan when she named a fancy restaurant several miles off campus. Meeting a big donor there meant I not only needed to change out of the cutoff shorts and T-shirt I was currently wearing, but I probably needed to put on a dress instead of whatever dressy-ish option I would have thrown together if I’d been meeting her anywhere else. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, it wasn’t within easy walking distance so I’d have to figure out how I was getting there. Taking an Uber would only cost about fifteen bucks round trip, but it’d still be a hit to my budget in a month when my move-in expenses already made it tighter than it usually was—which was pretty damn tight.

Two hours later, I reminded myself how important the meeting was as I stepped out of the car that’d actually ended up costing me ten bucks one-way. “Looks like I’ll be dipping into my savings account sooner than I thought,” I grumbled, walking towards the front doors of the restaurant. The building was light years apart from the dive I’d waitressed in over the summer to earn the thousand bucks I’d barely managed to sock away for textbooks and emergencies. I needed it to last until I found a job after graduation, and I’d promised myself I wouldn’t touch the money in there unless it was absolutely necessary. I hadn’t expected to dip into it quite so soon, but I didn’t have a cheaper transportation option that would’ve worked today.

“It is what it is,” I reminded myself. Worrying about it after the fact wasn’t going to do me any good, so I pasted a smile on my face as I walked through the doors. “I’m meeting Elaine Montgomery.”

The pretty blonde working at the hostess stand looked me up and down before offering me an obviously fake smile. “Right this way. Mrs. Montgomery is already at her table.”

Following behind her, I had to work hard to keep my smile on my face. If I wasn’t up to snuff for the hostess, what were the odds that a big donor wasn’t going to look down on me? I smoothed down the skirt of my dress and took a few deep breaths to try to calm my nerves. When the hostess stopped at a table, the woman seated there thanked her and rose from her seat. The smile she aimed my way was so big, there was no doubt it was genuine. I bit my lip to stifle a giggle at the hostess’s baffled expression as she walked away.

“I’m so happy you could make it to lunch, Faith.” She gave me a quick hug before sitting down and waving at the seat across from her. “I hope that wasn’t too familiar, but I feel like I already know you after reading that article and speaking to the school about you. And I’m a hugger. It drives my son crazy because I’m always embarrassing him by hugging him and all his friends.”

“It’s fine, Mrs. Montgomery,” I reassured her as I sat down, even though it was unusual for me since I didn’t know a lot of people who could be considered huggers.

“Call me Elaine, please.”

A hug and a request to use her first name. Huh. So far, the big donor who wanted to meet at a super fancy restaurant was way different from what I’d been expecting. I’d thought she’d be uppity and condescending, but I wasn’t getting that feel from her at all.

“Will do.”

“I always feel so old when someone calls me Mrs. Montgomery.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice as she continued, “And it makes me want to look around for my mother-in-law.”

“Is she here?” I whispered back.

“Good heavens, no!” she laughed. “She moved to Arizona for the dry heat a couple of years ago, but I still find myself doing it anyway out of habit.”

“Mrs. Montgomery, it’s a pleasure to have you back again today.”

Elaine flashed me a smile, her brown eyes twinkling before her gaze darted up to the waiter. I barely stifled a laugh, feeling like I was in on a secret from the waiter.

“It’s lovely to be back again, Steven.”

“What can I bring for you ladies to drink?”

“A bottle of sparkling water for the table, a sweet tea for me, and—”

When her attention shifted to me, I asked for water with lemon.

“Can I bring you an appetizer today?”

Elaine looked at me. “Their stacked Caprese salad is fantastic. It has organic tomatoes and buffalo mozzarella, drizzled with balsamic vinegar with fresh basil.”

“Sounds great to me.”

“The Caprese salad, please Steven. And a few minutes to peruse the menu for our lunch selections.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She waited until he walked away to complain, “A ‘Mrs. Montgomery’ and a ‘Ma’am’ all in the span of a few minutes. Is it any wonder I feel old?”

Since I’d pictured someone much older when the publicity director had told me I was meeting with a big donor, it was easy to say, “You definitely don’t look it.”

“Thank you, that’s sweet of you to say.”

We chatted about nothing important for a couple of minutes before the waiter returned with our drinks and the appetizer.

“Are you sure you don’t want something else to drink? An iced tea? A Coke?” she asked after he took our lunch order.

“No, thank you. I don’t really do caffeine very often.”

“A college student who isn’t addicted to coffee? You’re even more unique than I thought.”

The reason I mostly avoided it was definitely unique for college students. It was important for me to stay hydrated, and caffeine was a diuretic. But I wasn’t one to volunteer personal information to people I didn’t really know—or even those I did. “That’s me. I like to be an original.”

“Well, you’ve certainly accomplished your goal then”—she spooned some tomatoes and mozzarella onto her plate and then nudged the appetizer my way—“since I don’t know any other college student who has accomplished as much with their volunteer work as you’ve done. Most of my son’s friends only know what volunteer work is because it was a requirement in high school.”

“I didn’t really think of it as volunteering since it started out with me just calling my old high school and a couple ones nearby and asking if I could come in and talk to any students they had who were in the foster system,” I answered as I served myself. “Something my caseworker had said to me, about not hearing her when she talked to me about the state paying for me to go to college, really stuck with me and I thought maybe I could do something to help other kids in the same situation.”

“How did it snowball from there into more than a hundred students enrolled as freshmen this year?”

“That’s harder to answer.” I paused to take a sip of my water while I gathered my thoughts. “I think most of us didn’t hear the information about the programs available to us once we graduated high school because we were focused on surviving each day instead of looking towards the future. Or at least that’s what I assumed since that’s how it was for me.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that, but you must have come a long way since then to be where you’re at today.”

I knew I was part of the story, but I didn’t want the focus to remain on me or exactly how far I’d come from the day my mom overdosed. “I figured I could talk to them about what going to college meant to me as a foster kid who had aged out of the system. About the opportunities it presented and the doors it opened. The future it would allow me to have—and them too if they were willing to give college a chance.”

“I’m assuming they were more receptive to hearing it from you rather than other figures of authority?”

I nodded. “Apparently foster kids are way more open to listening to someone like me than their caseworker because a group of the ones I talked to at the high schools from my old school district signed up to take the SAT and applied for school. When I was a freshman, there were only about ten of us on campus. There were almost twice that many the next year. Word somehow spread between guidance offices, and it wasn’t long before I got calls asking me to visit more schools. Things just took on a life of its own from there, and now there’s a hundred and two coming in the incoming class this year.”

“I have a feeling you’re being overly modest.”

My cheeks heated as I shrugged and stuffed some tomatoes and mozzarella into my mouth because I didn’t know what to say to that. Elaine got the hint, and we polished off the appetizer before the waiter reappeared with our entrees. We talked a little bit about the students I’d worked with who were getting ready to move onto campus the following weekend and what kinds of things foster kids might need that wasn’t covered by the tuition waiver and stipend programs. By the time I finished my chicken Caesar salad, Elaine had come up with a plan for what she wanted to do.

“I’d like to do some fundraising for the kids; set up a fund where they’ll get gift cards and a little extra cash every month.”

I’d been hoping for a little help for the group as they moved into the dorms, and her offer of continued support was more than I expected. “Making the transition from a foster or group home to the college campus can be difficult, so that sounds amazing.”

“It wouldn’t just be for the freshman class. I’d like to do it for all the foster kids on campus.”

“All of them?”

“Yes, it doesn’t seem fair for the kids who came before the ones mentioned in the article to be left out just because they’re a little older,” she explained.

Whoa. It was hard for me to wrap my head around the kind of money it would take to do what she was talking about for a group that big. “I can’t tell you how much I’d appreciate it, and so would all the students. You’d be making a huge difference in a lot of lives.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” She waved off my compliment as we got up to leave the restaurant. “I’m just raising a little bit of money. You did all the hard work to help get them on campus in the first place.”

“It might not seem like much to you, but I can tell you from experience that having some extra cash in your pocket or a gift card to buy a pizza will be a big deal to these kids.”

“It won’t be much,” she warned.

Our standards were on opposite sides of the spectrum so I wasn’t certain exactly what she meant by ‘not much,’ but I did know one thing for sure. “It’ll be more than they have right now.”

“Then I’ll make sure it gets done.”

We reached the sidewalk in front of the restaurant, and I pulled out my cell phone to request a ride back to campus.

“They can validate your parking if you need it,” Elaine explained, moving towards the Bentley the valet had just parked at the curb. He opened the driver’s side door and stepped out, the engine still running and his attention on her.

“I don’t have a car.” Which was hard to admit when it was obvious she didn’t just have a car—she had one that probably cost as much as the state was going to pay in tuition for twenty foster kids to attend college this school year.

“Did a friend drop you off? I’ll wait with you until they come back to pick you up.”

“No, I took an Uber. But it’ll only take a few minutes for another one to show up.”

She circled back and opened the passenger door on the Bentley. “Get in. I’ll drop you off.”

I told myself it would have been rude to decline her offer, but really I just wanted to ride in her car. Between the wood veneer touches, buttery leather on the seat, and deep pile carpets, it felt like being wrapped in luxury. When she pulled into the parking lot on campus, I was reluctant to leave the comfort of the passenger seat. “Thanks for the ride. I appreciate it.” And so did my savings account.

“It really was no problem. I needed to stop by the campus bookstore to pick up some stuff for my son sometime this week anyway, so I’ll just do that next since I’m already here.”

“I didn’t realize he was a student here, too. What year is he?”

“A senior, like you.”

I’d been laser-focused on my studies and working with foster students during my first three years of school, so I didn’t have a big social circle like a lot of the other students. I tried to think of any guys I’d met in class or in the dorms with the same last name as hers, but I didn’t come up with anyone. “What’s his first name?”

“Dillon.”

It still didn’t ring any bells. “I don’t think I know him.”

“I guess that’s not too much of a surprise since it’s a big campus, but maybe he’ll be available to come with me on Friday to drop off the first round of donations to you. I’d love for the two of you to meet.”

I was too preoccupied with her casual mention of giving me stuff for the group in such a short amount of time to notice the gleam in her eye when she mentioned introducing me to her son. “Friday is the end of this week. Will that be long enough for you to get everything pulled together for so many students?”

“Absolutely,” she replied without batting an eye. “And I plan on making this first round special because I’m well aware of all the stuff kids need when they move into the dorms.”

I quickly learned that Elaine Montgomery was a woman of her word when we met up that Friday and she handed me one hundred and seventy-two envelopes to pass out to the kids I was working with when they moved onto campus that weekend. Each one was filled with several hundred dollars in gift cards to Publix, Walmart, Target, and a few different restaurants, plus three hundred in cash. She’d somehow managed to raise more than a hundred thousand dollars in less than a week, but she shrugged it off like it was no big deal and seemed more concerned that her son hadn’t been around to come with her so she could introduce us. Go figure.

I enjoyed the hell out of handing them out, that was for damn sure. Running around campus, trying to hunt down all the foster kids was a bit insane, but it was more than worth the effort. Especially when I found two of my favorite incoming freshmen, Emily and Kyle, in the parking lot. “Hey, guys! Everything okay over here?”

Kyle was the first to spot me when he turned around and answered, “Yeah, everything’s good.”

“It’s a big day. I was just having a moment,” Emily added as she got out of the car and moved next to Kyle.

“A big day in a totally different way for you two.” I grinned and widened my eyes at them while wagging my brows, thrilled that they no longer had to keep their secret. It’d been torture watching the two of them around each other and waiting until they could finally be together. As foster kids living in the same group home for the past little while, they would have risked being separated if anyone had caught on to how they felt about each other. “Since you can finally come out as a couple.”

“When exactly did you clue in to our secret?” Kyle asked, narrowing his eyes at me.

“Right about the time you strolled into one of my after-school presentations and asked me if it’d still be possible for you to use the waiver if you started a year late since you hadn’t applied in time your senior year.”

Emily nodded, but Kyle didn’t get what I meant even though it’d made his feelings for her super clear to me at the time. “How’d that give us away? A ton of the other kids there were asking questions about the program.”

“You missed all the application deadlines, which told me you hadn’t been thinking of going before then and something must have changed your mind. When Emily’s eyes lit up like you’d just given her the best gift ever, I put two and two together—”

“And came up with the pair of us,” he finished for me.

“Yup,” I confirmed. “From then on, it was impossible to miss the way you guys just seemed drawn to each other. You didn’t even need to be looking at each other to seem like you were still connected.” And it’d made me wish that I could find someone who cared about me as much as these two did with each other.

“Maybe now that you’ve got so many of us enrolled in colleges across the state, you’ll take a little more time for yourself and find the guy who’s going to look at you the way Kyle does me,” Emily suggested.

“Maybe,” I sighed. It was hard for me to picture it actually happening for me, though. “Stranger things have happened—like that stupid article about me in the paper leading to me getting funding for every foster kid enrolled here will get gift cards for stuff like pizza, groceries, and the campus bookstore plus a little extra cash every month!”

When Kyle froze up, I was happy Emily was around to calm him back down and answer for the both of them. “That’s awesome. Is there anything we need to do? Paperwork to be filled out?”

I offered her a quick smile. “Nope. I met with the woman in charge of it yesterday, and she gave me a bunch of stuff to hand out to everyone this weekend.”

I heaved my backpack off my shoulder and dug through it to pull out two envelopes. Since Kyle didn’t reach out to grab his, I handed them both to Emily. I loved how her eyes opened wide when she looked inside. “Can you pass along our thanks, from the both of us?”

“Yeah, we’d appreciate it,” Kyle murmured.

“Uh huh, I can tell,” I laughed, knowing damn well he could care less if I thanked Elaine for them. “No worries, though. I’ll pass along your heartfelt gratitude when I talk to her.”

“Please do, because what’s in these?” Emily jiggled the envelopes. “Wow. Just wow.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure how she pulled it off. It’s way more than I expected, even with her telling me the first ones were going to be special because of all the stuff kids need when they move into the dorms. And she did them for all the foster kids enrolled here, not just the incoming freshman. We’re talking about a hundred thousand dollars of stuff, and I first talked to her a week ago. I can’t even wrap my head around how she was able to raise that much money that quickly.”

“It bears repeating, so...wow.”

I’d certainly said and thought it myself more than once. “Well, if you two crazy kids are all set, I’m going to try to track down the others. I want everyone to get their envelope as soon as possible so they can grab any necessities they’re missing sooner rather than later.”

Emily gave me a quick hug but didn’t let me leave without saying one last thing. “I know I’ve said it before, but this bears repeating too. Thank you so much. For everything. I can’t believe I’m here, and I owe it all to you.”

I felt my cheeks heat and didn’t quite know how to respond to her gratitude. “I...umm...You. Gah! You don’t owe it all to me. You’re here because you deserve to be. Because you worked hard for it. I just gave you the nudge you needed. That’s all.”

“So not true,” Kyle argued as he wrapped his arms around Emily. “You did way more than give us a nudge.”

“Him especially,” she teased.

“There’s no arguing with that,” I laughed as I walked away, on the lookout for the rest of the kids so I could make their day in the same way I just had with Emily and Kyle. And I owed it all to Elaine Montgomery.