AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You already look amazing.”
“Do I look free-tuition-amazing though?” she replies. “Because that is what it’s going to take.”
“You sure do,” I smile, picking the remaining staples into my cupped palm.
“Cool. You can write me a letter. So, what did Dean Rhodes have to say? More commendations for your brilliance?”
Pick. Pick. Pick. I like the sound of my fingernails on the board.
“Let me ask you something,” I start. “Am I too stuffy? Too traditional?”
She glances at me sideways. “Wellllllll, in marketing, we call that a brand identity.”
“That sounds like bullshit,” I remark.
She laughs. “Yes, that’s marketing for you. I wouldn’t call you stuffy. I would say… cautious. Conservative maybe.”
I feel sickish.
“Those are terrible words, Jenna.”
“Those are fine words, Lindy,” she corrects me. “It’s just the beauty of you. It’s how you stand out. How people notice you.”
“Yeah, right. Like people notice me,” I roll my eyes.
“Probably more than you think,” she coos. “You’re a hot babe, Lindy. Time you got around to dealing with it.”
I roll the feedback around in my mind. I’m too rigid. I need to loosen up. I’m conservative.
Wow. The most uncool art major words there are.
“Okay, fine,” Jenna sighs, turning around to face me.
She rests her strong volleyball hands on my shoulders and stares deeply into my eyes. I’m almost afraid we’re about to make out.
“Listen, this is just college,” she says earnestly. “You can do anything you want here. You’re miles beyond all the other art nerds. You can afford to take chances.”
“You think I should take chances?” I pout.
“When else do you get a free pass to experiment? Look at Stevie—”
“Seattle,” I correct her.
“See?” she says pointedly. “That woman is an utter sham, and she gets to just slide on by, right? Like, people don’t even know what they have. Rich kids like her…”
“I don’t understand,” I murmur.
“Yeah, sorry, I’m just babbling,” she chuckles, standing up straight and closing the bulletin board cover. “I’m just saying maybe Rhodes isn’t entirely wrong. You could be a little more bold.”
“Bold, yeah,” I repeat.
“Do what you gotta do, baby girl,” she smiles. “It’s just college.”
Chapter 5
DIEGO
The front steps of the fraternity house are lined with pledges. Freshman guys with no better than peach fuzz under their noses stand there like statues in the late afternoon sun, burnt and probably starving, too. I like knowing that.
