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“Besides,” he quickly continues. “Maybe he chose you because he knew that you were a hard worker and you wouldn’t waste his time.”
“Maybe...” I ponder over his words for a long moment.
“Listen, I meant it when I said he’s a good dude. Give him a chance. He might just surprise you.”
I don’t know why, but when he says it, I get the feeling we’re not just talking about Archer. Probably because he looks directly at my best friend when he says it.
I feel bad for Enzo. It’s clear he’s all tied up on Alina, and yet she seems more than content with their current arrangement. They sleep with each other, and other people. They act like they’re both single. But when they’re together, like this, it’s easy to see Enzo wants more. My guess, he only goes along with it because he’d rather have her this way than nothing at all.
“I won’t make any promises, but I’ll try,” I tell Enzo, not really sure what else to say.
I don’t really have a choice in the matter, so I guess try is all there is to do. I have to get an A on this portfolio. It’s worth too much of my grade not to.
I can do this. I mentally reassure myself, but it does little to quell the voice of doubt swimming in my head.
“Now, how about we get the fuck out of this room and go have a drink?” Enzo asks no one in particular.
“Drink?” I draw back. “It’s like two in the afternoon.”
“So?” He snorts out a laugh.
“Isn’t that a little early for a drink?”
“Don’t be such a dud, Ro. It’s five o’clock somewhere.” Alina slides off the bed, quickly stripping off her shirt, in search of a different one, without a single care if anyone watches her. I, on the other hand, would have gone down the hall to the bathroom even if it were just Alina in the room. That’s just the way I was raised—no one saw you in undress, not even your parents once you reached a certain age.
My parents aren’t overly religious or anything, but my father is very old-school and by extension, my mother is as well. I think it’s safe to say if they knew about my late-night tent trips with Conner, they would have put bars on my windows and never let me leave the house again.
Imagine how they reacted when they learned I was moving to California of all places. Luckily, they trust me enough to support me and really, that’s all I could ever ask. Besides, they have my little sister to fuss over in my absence. She’s only six, a whopping fifteen years younger than me, and she keeps them occupied for the most part, so they don’t worry over me so much anymore.
“You know people only say that so they can drink whenever they want,” I needlessly point out.
“And?”
“Never mind.” I shake my head, knowing there’s no use in arguing with them.
“So does that mean you’re out?” Enzo swings his long legs over the side of the bed before standing.
“Actually...” I hesitate, feeling like if I ever needed a drink at two o’clock on a Thursday, today would be it. “Maybe I’ll have one.”
“That’s my girl!” Alina bounces up on her toes, buttoning the shirt she just changed into—a pale blue, sleeveless blouse that looks flawless against her warm skin.
I’m comfortable enough in my own body not to feel too envious of her beauty, but even I have my moments where I feel like an ugly duckling that she brought over from the stagnant, dirty pond to swim in her crystal blue lake of perfection. Like I’m here, but I just don’t quite belong.
“Give me two minutes to change.” I stand, quickly moving to the tiniest closet known to man to find a change of clothes. Finally settling on jean shorts and a simple white top, I make a quick trip to the bathroom, returning a few moments later having done nothing more than change and tie my dark brown locks into a messy bun. I don’t wear much makeup and having applied some earlier today, I didn’t feel the need to do more.
Alina, on the other hand, is painting on a thick coat of mascara using a tiny pocket mirror when I reenter the room.
“Ready?” She gives her lashes one final swipe before snapping the mirror closed.
“Yep.” I look around, realizing the room feels much larger suddenly. “Where’s Enzo?”
“Waiting for us outside.” She slips into a pair of strappy sandals, while I settle for my trusty Converse.
For someone who wants to go into fashion and design, I’m not a very flashy person myself. Then again, you don’t have to be. It’s not like I’m designing the clothes for myself.
“Where are we going?” I ask, following Alina out the door of our first floor dorm room. Freshman and sophomore year, I had to trek up four flights of stairs multiple times a day. I finally got smart this year and submitted a request to be on the first floor, which was thankfully granted. Upperclassmen usually get better accommodations than lower classmen. I learned that early on.
“Nasty Rabbit.” She shoves the front door open, holding it for me to follow her outside. The Southern California heat is sweltering today. Even after three years, I’m not used to it. In Indiana, it’s probably in the sixties and the leaves have begun to change by now. That’s one thing I miss about home the most—the dramatic change of the seasons.
