“How are you?” she coos, plucking a mirror out of her bag.
“I’m good. How about you?”
“Same!”
I’m expecting this to spark some kind of conversation, but she’s too busy touching up her lipstick. This is the part where I should be making some kind of effort, but I’m drawing blanks.
“You have a good vacation?”
Okay, not bad.
“It was amazing! Me and some friends drove down to Miami.”
“Oh, nice!” I perk up in true Campus Driver style. “What car?”
“A gray one.”
Damn.I decide to steer us away from car talk.
“Why Miami?”
“Are you coming to Douglas’s party?”
She’s just ignored my question, and I can’t help but feel deflated. My efforts are definitely wasted on this girl.
“When is it?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Why not?”
“Amazing! Let’s catch up then.”
Our eyes meet in the mirror, and she winks at me. Who evenisthis girl? Maybe I should call a doctor. Like a brain surgeon.
She spends the rest of the ride on her phone, while I sift through my memories of the past few years. When I drop her off, she tosses me a “See ya tomorrow.” I flash her a thumbs-up and hit the road.
My phone buzzes, and just as I’m about to confirm my next trip, I spot a familiar face across the street.
“How about that…”
Destiny has just thrown me a fresh shot at stating my case, although if I’m honest with myself, I was never going to give up without a fight, anyway. My plan was to hunt Carrie down and beg her until she eventually caved. I guess I’ve always liked a challenge.
I kill the engine and step out of the car, slapping a cocky smile on my face. When I went up to her at the dining hall the other day, the strategy was just to play it nice. But seeing how that worked out for me, it’s time to bring out the Wolinski big guns.
I walk up to Carrie. She’s got her back to me, crouched in front of her bike wheel.
I take in the massive blond bun on her head, wondering how something that size doesn’t tip her over.
“Fucking little bitch,” I hear her mutter, yanking on the chain. “I’m counting to three, and if you don’t—” She whips her hand away. “Ow!”
Her finger is trapped in the gears, and I can’t help but laugh as she swivels around to face me, holding her free hand up to shield her eyes from the sun. It takes her a few quick seconds to shoot me a glare and turn back to her bike.
“Great. Just who I needed,” she mutters, not quietly.
“How’s it rolling, Carrie?” I jerk my chin at the bike. “Not great, huh?”
“How long did it take you to come up with that one?” she fires back, scrambling to her feet.
