“Becca, I need your help,” I say, cutting her groggy “hello” short.
She yawns.
Lane is watching me over his cup of coffee. He hasn’t budged an inch. I drift over to the window so as not to trigger any snark.
“I need you to help me be more…” I think for a moment. “Be better, basically.”
It takes her a while to get the words out. “What are you wearing?”
“What?”
“Right now. What are you wearing?”
“Umm… leggings?”
“Jesus. Get your ass over here.”
She hangs up. I stare at my phone, taking a moment to let it all sink in, before crouching over my bag. It’s still full of stuff. Lane hasn’t offered to share his closet, but it’s not like I have much, anyway. I pull out my sneakers and lace them up in silence.
“Need a driver?”
“I’m good, thanks.”
I stuff my earbuds in, connect them to my phone, and wave goodbye to the world’s worst roommate.
I could have taken Lane up on his offer, but today is the first day of the rest of my life, with raw greens, lean protein, and lots of working out high up on the intentions list. I stride toward the campus with a determined spring in my step. My old sneakers aren’t right forthis, and I make a note to stop by the mall as soon as I’m done with Becca.
Pushing open the doors to her dorm, the stairs up to her room are the final nail in the coffin: By the time I arrive, I’m drenched, mopping my forehead with my wrist before knocking at her door three times.
“Come in!”
I hold back a stab of envy as I take in her space. I hate not having my own place.
“Did you walk here?” Becca peers at me. “You look like you’re about to puke.”
“Just last night’s afterglow,” I sigh, letting my bag fall to the floor.
I spin around, taking in the small room. I was right that I couldn’t crash here—the place is tiny, shared between her and some girl named Carrie, who I can hear snoring from the bed farthest away. Lane’s couch is definitely the comfier option.
“Ready for a makeover? Because I’m pretty sure this qualifies as an emergency.” She sizes me up. “Want a Coke?”
“Water would be great.”
She skips her way to the bathroom, returning with a tumbler.
“So what happened last night? I couldn’t find you when I left.”
“Sure you were looking properly?” I wink at her. “It must have been kind of hard to see, what with Carter glued to your face and everything.”
She wiggles her eyebrows at me. “Trust me, it was more than just his face.”
“Eww! I thought you were aiming for Donovan, anyway?”
“Nah. I’m crushing hard on Carter now. And no, I don’t get it, either.”
“He’s nice. I have no idea how he can be friends with Lane.”
She shrugs. “I think they’ve known each other since they were kids.”
