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“New year, same Blake.”
“You can’t improve perfection.” This time, Blake was the one who pulled her down the hall.
“Your room is the other way.”
“Let’s go to your room. Janice isn’t back yet, is she?”
“Nope.” Janice was never in the dorm.
Farrah opened her door and flipped on the lights. It was clear which side was hers and which was Janice’s. Janice’s half of the space was standard dorm fare—no decorations, no personal touches except for a Billie Eilish poster above her bed.
Meanwhile, Farrah treated her space as a mini interior design project, albeit one on an extreme budget. She’d replaced FEA’s scratchy white sheets with a cute gray-and-white polka dot set she found at a local market. It wasn’t her favorite color combination, but it was the best she could find. Fortunately, she’d also snagged a gold throw pillow that jazzed up the look and matched the picture frames she brought from home. The various-sized frames showcased some of her favorite memories—Farrah and her friends clutching their high school graduation diplomas; Farrah and her mom on her first day of college; Farrah standing in the middle of the first room she ever designed (a pro bono project for her neighbor’s pre-teen daughter); Farrah and her friend Maggie eating pizza in Rome and cheesing for the camera.
Blake picked up the pizza photo and chuckled. “This is a great picture.”
“It was a great day.” Spring break last year. While their friends partied it up in Cancun and Panama City, Farrah and Maggie escaped to Italy. It was Maggie’s idea—she was a classics major and obsessed with all things Greek and Italian. It turned out to be the best decision Farrah ever made.
Well, second best.
It was weird. Italy felt like a lifetime ago. Farrah kept in touch with Maggie, but the Greek life drama and campus shenanigans Maggie complained about might as well be from another world.
After a year abroad, junior year was going to be a major adjustment.
Farrah pushed the thought out of her mind. She wasn’t going to think about next year, not when she had Blake here and an entire semester of FEA left.
“Come here.” Blake sat on the edge of her bed and patted his lap.
She curled up in his embrace, soaking up the familiarity like it was a breath of fresh air after being stuck in a windowless room for weeks.
“Tell me about your break.” The deep timbre of his voice caused her to shiver with happiness.
“It was good. I ate a lot. Caught up with friends. The usual. I told you everything exciting that happened.” Skype wasn’t the same as seeing each other in person, but it was better than nothing. “Except for one thing.”
“Really?” Blake’s eyes sparkled with intrigue. “What is it?”
“I’ll show you.” Farrah fished her sketchbook from her nightstand drawer at the same time. She flipped it open to her final design concept for the IDAA contest. “I finished this over winter break and submitted my portfolio last week.” Her pulse raced with nerves. “That’s it. It’s out of my hands.”
“Holy shit,” Blake breathed. He brushed his fingers over the sketch. “Farrah, this is incredible.”
After agonizing over the third design for months, Farrah woke up in the middle of the night with a crystal-clear vision of what she wanted to do. She started sketching and didn’t stop until she finished the entire thing, afraid to pause lest the inspiration leave her.
“Thanks.” Farrah struggled to contain her grin. “I’m really proud of it.”
She didn’t bother trying to be humble, because she was proud of her work. It was one of her favorite designs, bar none.
Farrah scrapped her earlier traditional hotel suite idea and shifted to island villa theme that leaned on natural colors, flowy fabrics, and open spaces: soft, billowing curtains around the bed and draped across the ceiling; an open-air living room with an organic-shaped wood coffee table and natural fiber furniture; indigenous artwork and aqua accents that picked up on the pale blues of the sea.
Interior design isn’t about how a space looks; it’s about how it makes you feel. Farrah’s villa may not exist in real life, but just looking at the sketch evoked a sense of freedom, adventure, and happiness.
Hopefully, the NIDA judges agreed.
“I wish we were there right now.” Blake brushed his fingers over the sketch. “Just the two of us on a secluded island, where nothing can touch us.”
“Maybe one day.” Farrah’s stomach fluttered. “Do you think I can win?”
“Are you kidding?” Blake brushed his lips over hers. “I’m no design expert, but I can tell this is something special. You will win. It’s not a question.”
She smiled at his confidence. “You should’ve been a cheerleader instead of a football player.”
