LITMIR.BIZ

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the same shoe size so we can share?” I already like this girl.

      “Seven and a half?” Her face pinched with anticipation.

      “Yup.”

      “Now what are the chances in that happening? What, are they assigning roomies by matching shoe size, now?” She wiggled a hand free to press the button on the elevator.

      At our room, we set our stuff down outside the door while she worked the lock. She swung the door open to our new life.

      “Holy cannoli,” she said.

      The spacious living area had a sofa facing a wall with a flat screen, and two armchairs on either side. Bedrooms were off to the side, left and right. Beside the left bedroom, a small, but perfect-sized kitchen was tucked perfectly in the corner. Beside the right bedroom, the bathroom was sparkling white, waiting for our personal touches.

      It was big, but not so big that it couldn’t be homey. Living in Rollins Manor had always given me a feeling of reverse claustrophobia. It was so big I could have gotten lost in it. Come to think of it, I felt that way my whole life.

      “I thought we would have an ample room, but this is great.” Nicki walked past the sofa and let her fingers trail over the soft plush leather. She went straight to the window and looked out from the fifth floor. She gasped.

      “And the view. OMG. You’ve gotta see this.” Nicki waved me to the window.

      The center meeting area in the middle of the campus was crawling with social gatherings, clubs looking for pledges, and people unloading cars. Across from us was another tower of dorms. It was beside a darkly elegant house with Greek letters over the front entrance.

      “We lucked up. We’re right across from one of the most elite frat houses on the whole campus. They’re called the Band of Brothers. Supposedly, their basement has a dungeon where they do the initiations,” she said with satisfaction. “This has got to be by far the best day of my—holy crap, our first view of the Brothers.”

      A group of finely dressed guys holding their heads a little higher than the rest of college population exited the front door of the frat house.

      “They’re probably so snotty they won’t want to breathe the same oxygen as everyone else,” I said.

      Though the crowd parted as they walked through, they nodded and smiled at their peers. Huh. Surprising.

      “They are actually quite nice, but I’ve never seen any one of them with a girl who was less than a runway model.” Nicki propped her elbow on the window and her chin in her hand as she stared wistfully at the passing group of guys. “You’d have no trouble with any of them, but I’d have to bleach my hair, lose twenty pounds, and change my whole wardrobe.”

      “You’d have just as much a chance, but I’m not looking for a guy. I’m a little cynical when it comes to the male population.” I turned from the window with a good-natured smirk.

      “You’re not a…you know…lesbian, are you?” she asked, wide-eyed.

      “Oh,” I must have come across as harsh to seem so against men. “No, not me. I’m just down on the whole male species in general at the moment.”

      Nicki’s face brightened. “Well, that’s nothing we can’t fix! I bring the party where ever I go, and this place,” she gestured emphatically to the room we occupied, “is not immune. We could fit at least thirty to forty people in here, easy.”

      “Shouldn’t we be planning study groups and developing strategies on how to survive chemistry and calculus?” I looked toward the bedroom on the left.

      “Oh, no. You are going to be socially challenged if we don’t get you out of that shell.” She put her forefinger on her chin thoughtfully and shook her head. “This will never do.”

      “We need to unpack.” I opened the bedroom door on the left and nodded. “They’re both the same, so can I have this room?”

      “It’s time to get out of this coma you have been calling life, girl. There’s way too many men and way too little time.” She flipped her long fire-engine-red hair over her shoulder and tugged me away from the door to my new room.

      In less than a minute, we ended up on the lawn in the midst of bustle of laughter, talking, flyers, posters and confused freshmen juggling luggage and campus maps.

      Nicki turned to me with a squeal and clapped her hands together.

      I thought she might grab a megaphone out of her pocket and announce that I had flatlined and needed mouth-to-mouth.

      She was either going to liven up my life or wear me to a frazzle trying to keep up with her.

      * * * *

      On the first day of class, the whole campus seemed three clowns short of a circus. I had never seen so many different nationalities of people gathered in one building. So I had been sheltered.

      Guys leaned coolly against the stone walls talking and watching girls.

      Girls still giggled or gave them haughty looks.

      Nothing much had changed since high school other than I didn’t feel as constrained as if prison bars were closing in on me.

      I was free for the first time.

      Cole always remained in the back of my mind, but if I had to move on, a lively place like this might do the trick. At least it would be hard to be sad here.

      I entered my first class and climbed the steps to take a seat in the back, but a guy with striking good looks grabbed the strap of my book bag.

      “Hey, would you mind doing me a huge favor?” he said.

      I looked down into and found a wide smile.

      “Depends,” I said.

      “No time to explain. Sit. Now.” He yanked me down beside him.

      I gave the other empty seats a quick glance.

      “Please. Don’t leave.” His eyes widened.

      I put my books down beside him. At least it was a good view of podium.

      The strange guy said, “Do you see the girl with the copper-red hair standing near the third row of seats?”

      I nodded.

      “You just saved my life.”

      The girl’s wild gaze shot around the room.

      “The first day and you already have an admirer. Impressive.”

      “If I act cozy with you in the next few minutes, don’t be offended.” He turned to face me.

      The attractive girl spotted him.

      “Here she comes.” I pulled my laptop out.

      He immediately slipped his arm around me. Though he draped his hand over the back of the seat and didn’t try to touch me much, I stiffened.

      “Andrew Malcolm, age eighteen, Cherryville, North Carolina. I drive a green Volvo and I’m not a lunatic.” He finally looked up at the girl who barreled toward us.

      What had I gotten myself into?

      Her face darkened as her hawk-like gaze found his arm draped around me.

      His speedy biography lesson gave me just enough information about him to seem like I might know him from Adam. He was smooth and obviously used to diverting stalkers. He had every reason to attract them along with every other girl in the world.

      He was beautiful.

      Light brown hair, chestnut eyes and a complexion and body to die for. I wasn’t attracted, but merely stating a fact.

      “Andrew. We met yesterday. I stay in the dorm across from the frat house. Do you remember me?” the girl said in a high-pitched tone.

      I stifled a laugh.

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