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Sure, I could argue, but I already know how the evening will end, and that’s with me attending this party with my roomie.
And she’s right. It’s been a while since we’ve gotten dressed up and gone out together, which is what it means when she pulls the best friends card. She doesn’t do it often. So when she does, I usually just roll with it. All right…maybe that’s not one hundred percent true. Normally, I put up a little bit of a fight before gracefully giving in. Tonight, I’m not even going to bother.
“Okay, fine.”
“What?” She blinks as if I’ve totally thrown her off.
“You heard me. I’ll go, and I’ll even wear the outfit you picked out.”
“Wow,” she mutters. “I wasn’t expecting you to give in so easily.” Her eyes narrow. “Wait a minute, is this some sort of sly bit of trickery on your part? Are you attempting to lull me into a false state of contentedness, so I’ll lower my guard?”
My lips tremble. “Nope. I’ve been thinking about what you said the other day and you’re right.”
“Of course I’m right. What am I right about?”
“You said that this was our last year in college, and I should enjoy it.” Lord knows medical school will be even more challenging than this. And then there’ll be my residency. So…
I need to stop every once in a while, take a deep breath, and enjoy myself.
And that starts tonight.
Her face transforms into a grin before she jumps up and down, clapping her hands together. “Yay! I’m so excited. We’re going to have so much fun!”
“Me, too.” It’s almost a surprise to realize that I actually mean it.
No matter what we do, Carina and I always have a good time. Even if that means we’re just hanging at the apartment. We’re opposites in every sense of the word, but she’s turned out to be an incredible friend. We met during the first semester of freshman year in English 102 and have been besties ever since. Sophomore year, we decided to live together in the dorms and then the following one, we rented an apartment off campus.
I’m going to miss her next year.
No matter what we end up doing, it won’t be together.
Thirty minutes later and I’ve been poured into Carina’s outfit. And when I say poured, I mean it. Since she’s a dancer, her build is longer and leaner than mine. And she certainly doesn’t have D cups either. I’m almost afraid I’ll stretch out her sweater. Although, it still has the tag on it, so I’m not sure she’d care. I have what my mom calls an hourglass figure. Neither of us knows where it came from, since she’s slender like Carina.
The skirt is gorgeous, but here’s hoping I don’t drop anything, because there’s no way I’ll be able to bend over without flashing my panties.
Or, more accurately—thong.
Not only did that bitch go through my underwear drawer and find my vibe, she pulled out a teeny tiny thong and matching bra. I shift and resist the urge to pick the dental floss out of my ass.
With a frown, I meet her gaze in the mirror. “This thong is uncomfortable.”
She waves away the concern. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”
“Yeah, that’s the problem. I don’t want to get used to it. There’s a reason why I buried it at the back of the drawer.”
“I know. I had to really dig around, but don’t worry, I still found it.”
When I glare, she says with a smile, “They’ll make you feel sexy.”
How does that even make sense?
“Why would a string wedged up the crack of my ass make me feel sexy?”
She rolls her eyes and huffs out a breath before heading back to her desk slash vanity to grab a tube of mascara and lipstick. It takes another twenty minutes to do my hair and makeup.
A lot of days, I wear it up in a messy bun or ponytail because it’s quick and easy. Much like hers, I have curls that float around my shoulders. And she’s given me a smoky eye to go along with it.
I didn’t even recognize myself when she swiveled me around to the mirror and said, “Ta-da.”
