“A junior
invited me,” Megan said excitedly. “It might be the party of the year.”
Party?
It looks
like Union Square during New Year’s Eve.
What is
everyone waiting for?
This party
wasn’t worth the three-mile walk from our dorm to here.
The cheap
alcohol tops it all. I didn’t get drunk with the first sip of a screwdriver; I
got a massive headache. This isn’t for me. The circle of girls gossiping about
everything as they wait to be swooped by some guy—not my scene.
Haven’t we
done this for the past twelve hours? Chat about nonsense. This is why I don’t
have many friends. I was too busy with
my extracurricular activities that I skipped socializing 101. Give me a good
book to read. A movie to watch or a marathon on TBS or Nick at Nite to keep me
up all night. I suggest we leave, and what does roommate-dearest
say in response? “I’ll find you a place to crash.”
The bedroom
is dark but clean. I grab a sweatshirt and even a bear I find on the floor. It
only takes a few seconds for me to fall asleep. It is quiet, smells of
sandalwood and pine, and the sheets are soft.
I miss
home.
Everything
is going well until the guy from the coffee shop wakes me up. I swear it feels
like a dream. A nightmare. But after we talk, I realize he’s not as bad as I
thought. He’s one of the good guys but likes to pretend he’s anything but.
His
food…who knew eggs could taste this great? In exchange for yet another plate, I
could offer to fix the light fixtures. This place is off code.
And there I
go, thinking like my father. Instead of teaching me construction, he should’ve
taught me how to socialize. I wish my aunts had been around more often during
my teenage years. I’d be a little cooler, or at least I’d know how to make
friends easily.
Auggie
takes the empty plate from my hands and offers me some milk. I nod, that sounds
better than whatever they’re serving upstairs.
“It must be
hard moving away from all your friends and family,” he says.
I shrug and
smile. I don’t make friends easily. Well, actually, I don’t make friends at
all. Dad and I have always been on the run. Running to school, running to a
construction site, running to tae kwon do, running to the grocery
store...
There’s
never time to exchange more than a greeting and a weak how are you before I
have to go again.
During my
spare time I help Dad around the house or at work. If I do the latter, it pays
for my knickknacks, and I get to spend time with him.
“It’s just
Dad and me,” I remind him.
“Any other
family?”
“Mom’s
family faded away after she died. Dad’s sisters stepped up, but now they have
their own families, so during my teenage years it was just the two of us.” I
drink some of the milk he poured me.
“Grandparents?”
“How about
you?” I fire back without answering his question. And study him.
He’s not as
bad as I thought earlier. In fact, he’s very nice. And good looking. Tall,
mussed-up, dark hair, hazel eyes. Black t-shirt hugging his lean and defined
muscles. There’s a playful tug at the corner of his mouth, and I see a dimple
forming on the left side of his cheek.
He turns me
on, but he’s he and well, I’m me.
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