“Don’t mention it. It’s Samantha, right?” she pries, smiling at me when I look at her again.
“I go by Sam,” I answer, somewhat confused at where this conversation is leading.
“That’s cute.”
“Thanks. But how do you know that?”
She playfully waves my question away. “Oh, girl. I know everything there is to know about everybody. Plus, you’re roommates with Gracie. She and I go way back.”
Internally, I cringe at that. While Gracie has been very vague about what happened between her and these girls, something tells me there’s a lot more to it than themgoing way back. And until I know what exactly, I’ll err on the side of caution.
“So, some of us are getting together for a party tonight. You should come.”
I shake my head, but she continues.
“It’ll give you an opportunity to meet people. I know SKU can be overwhelming, but we’re pretty cool once you get to know us.”
I scrunch up my nose. “I’m not really the partying type. I just want to focus on school.”
Christina saunters up to me and unexpectedly places an arm over my shoulder. I stare at that arm in disbelief of the lack of boundaries this girl has.
“And you will. But you should also have a little fun. Plus, there’ll be hot guys there. The Knights are hosting, and you don’t ever want to miss one of their parties.”
I don’t respond, this time only staring at her until she gets the point.
“Okay, how about this?” Christina holds out her palm. “Take out your phone. We’ll drop each other our contacts, and I’ll send you the address. If you come, great. If not, your loss.”
I want nothing more than to be done with this conversation. So instead of fighting her on it, I pull my phone from my back pocket and unlock it.
She takes it from me and eagerly airdrops herself from my phone, then hands it back a few seconds later.
“Perfect,” she says while dropping her phone in her purse and stepping around me. “Think about it. It’ll be a blast.”
The thought of being in the same room with a bunch of drunk, sexed-up college students doesn’t sound appealing to me. Especially not when Everest and that asshole Alex will probably be there. Something tells me that would be a bad combination.
The muffled voices of students passing through the halls are the only signs of life on the other side of my room door. It’s late on a Friday night, and while my peers are out enjoying college life, I’ve been holed up in this room for the past two hours. I’ve lain in bed staring up at the ugly popcorn ceiling.
It mocks me… reminding me just how lonely I really am. It’s funny how being in a place full of people can make you feel even more alone than ever.
Maybe if I’d taken Gracie up on her offer to join her in the study hall, I wouldn’t be sitting in here sulking. But, after this crap start to my time at SKU, my mind is far too scattered for that.
Light filters in from the sheer pink curtains, the shadows dancing across the ceiling I’m staring at from where I lie on my bed. I glance around the room at the vast difference of decor. My side remains pretty sparse, but with the little trinkets Gracie conveniently had to give so freely, it’s really starting to shape up—almost like someone happy lives here.
I chuckle when my eyes land on the yellow and pink lava lamp on her desk. She really does have a big personality. If I’m honest, it’s growing on me. I need that kind of positive energy.I wouldn’t go as far as to say we’re besties just yet, but she’s real and truly sweet. Two traits that are hard to come by these days.
Needing to do something other than wasting away, and too lazy to sit up, I feel around my bed, flailing uncomfortably until I find my phone. I tap the screen to life and scroll social media in a weak attempt to fill the void. Another night of mindlessly swiping, I guess.
If Evan were here right now, he’d tell me to get off my ass and make the night my bitch. This is the first time in my life where I’m not stuck indoors with Desmond because Gary is too high off his ass to actually watch him. I get to be like every other nineteen-year-old—experiencing things, making mistakes.
So why am I rotting away, and passing my time by counting the grooves in the ceiling and aimlessly scrolling?
Because whatever reprieve this scholarship is providing from my miserable life is merely a Band-Aid. In two and a half years, I’ll graduate and the fight for custody of my brother will commence. Back to reality I go.
My cell buzzes against my thigh.
Chrissy Lindsey:Image attached.
With a furrowed brow, I open the text. The picture loads on the screen.
