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“Carly,” we say together. Sure enough, our third roommate, Carly Madison, comes into the kitchen, dropping her coat on the ground behind her, kicking her shoes off all over the living-room carpet. She’s giggling, drunk, probably.
“Ooooh, food,” Carly moans, passing us to get herself a bowl from the cupboard. I sneak a glance at Jamie, whose expression is annoyed, but I know she’ll never say anything. She’s too passive.
“Did you have a good day, Carly?” I ask, watching her struggle with the bread knife. She turns to me, medium pink-dyed hair falling into her eyes.
“Yes, it was excellent,” she says.
“Are you drunk already?” Jamie asks, and Carly groans.
“Not drunk enough, actually. I was just stopping by to ask if you two wanted to hit up the bar.”
“This late?” Jamie says, glancing at her watch. I look at mine, too. It’s barely eight.
“It’s the first day of the semester, and everyone is going to be there,” Carly insists, leaning up against the counter as she slurps her soup. “Come on, girls, live a little. Besides,” she waggles an eyebrow at me. “You look like you could use a good time, Rowan. That ER is taking a toll on your sense of humor.”
I look at Jamie, who purses her lips like an annoyed mother. While we wait for her to answer, I turn to Carly and smile.
“I’m in.”
“That’s what I’m talking about.” Carly winks then turns and rinses her bowl in the sink. Then she turns back to Jamie. “What do you say? Want to break out of that fucking shell of yours?”
“Ugh, fine.” Jamie sighs heavily, looking anything but pleased. “Let me just get dressed.”
I finished my soup, excited to go out for a night on the town with my new roommates. This will be a good time, and nothing will get in the way of the fun I’m about to have. Nothing at all.
