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“Pictures match, so I won’t accuse you of trying to pass off your tardiness on someone else. But what I will do is dock your attendance score for this.” He exhales hard. “Now, as I was saying before we were so rudely interrupted.”
Turning his attention back to the projector I scan the crowd, spotting my roommate who immediately texts me.
You got lucky?!?!?!
Hardly, but I know you did.
I have a boyfriend. Of course, I did. Not exciting. What about you? Don’t lie!
Don’t lie, huh? Well the truth is the way my roomie downplays her looks, her daddy funded bank account, and the financial prospects of her star quarterback boyfriend who’s turning pro next year, she might as well be the liar herself.
Not to mention I know she doesn’t hang out with me for the fun of it. She does it for the free tutoring. In turn, I’m supposed to receive access to the cool kid’s club and high-end networking opportunities. That was never really said, but most certainly implied. And most definitely never followed up on, which explains why I spent my birthday alone last night. I don’t want to invite someone who didn’t want to be there on their own accord.
Stayed out all night. Hungover, obviously. Never drinking again.I hit send.
No guys?
Nada. Nothing. Zip. Zilch.I type ‘same ol’ same ol’ but then backspace and delete the pity party.
Maybe next time.
I look at the message and an annoyed laugh mixed with a grunt escapes me, quickly followed by a hiccup.
The professor stops, looks at me, and shakes his head. “Skating on thin ice, Miss Watson.”
Sitting up straighter in my chair I flash a posture and head position that tells him I mean business, which he already knows given my G.P.A. and reputation here at college. Reputation for being addicted to my studies and striving to maintain my perfect G.P.A., at the expense ofeverythingelse.
Until last night.
But that was a one-time thing. Right?
I hear my roommate's boyfriend talk about his football teammates and their hookup conquests. The things they do to girls, the way they treat them, then ghost them after, should be downright illegal, let alone immoral. But that describes the young hookup culture these days, especially for attractive guys who have their pick of the litter in a megacity like this.
Sam was different. When I woke up untouched, a blanket draped over me and him just lying there by my side as if he was protecting me, keeping me company, and not letting me go to bed alone on such a special birthday felt so different. So refreshing. So…nice.
Where have all the nice guys gone? Well, apparently there are still a few left, and I happened to stumble upon one last night.
What gives me pause though is the number of door locks he has, including a full-on steel bar to place horizontally across the entire door frame and beyond. Granted, he doesn’t live in the nicest part of town, but still. Paranoid a bit?
Thankfully he forgot to engage all those locks, which made it a breeze for me to sneak out this morning. A quick stop at 7-11 to grab a coffee and borrow their plugin and get my phone to five percent charged so I could get an Uber and I was on my way.
After class I have two more then I’m going straight to the dorms to crash. Hopefully my roommate, who looks like she stepped off the cover ofFrench Vogue, and herGQequivalent boyfriend won’t be fooling around, which could lead to the creation of the world’s most attractive baby.
Between the alcohol and the lack of sleep, I look like the masthead on a ship at sea during a storm, swaying from side to side and forward and back as I fight off the hangover and the sandman.
Coming to class late turns out to be a blessing as the lecture, while seemingly taking forever, actually ends pretty fast.
I’m out the door and contemplating heading to my next class when I decide this just isn’t happening. I need to head to the dorms…stat.
Putting one wobbly foot in front of the other I start to make my way there, stopping once on the way to barf in the bushes. Classy, but hey…I guess there’s a first time for everything.
When I’m only a block away I pick up the pace, just needing to get into that bed.
I can already feel the springy give of my bed after kicking my shoes off and trying not to knock over any of the empty energy drink cans on the desk inches from my resting place. I swear if it weren’t for Red Bull and coffee I’d be as far from the Dean’s list as possible.
Turning the corner I run straight into a wall of muscle, stumbling backward in a sense of shock that only intensifies when I see who it is.
“Sam?” I question gasping. My eyes rake over his body, no shirt, pecs and shoulders covered in a light sheen of sweat. He’s wearing workout shorts and gym shoes and is walking the cutest little Golden Retriever puppy I’ve ever seen. It’s not even a dog, it’s just a ball of fur with a big smile.
