Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24157 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24157 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
“You look awful,” she says lovingly, and pulls me into her embrace. I lean my head on her shoulder, suddenly glad for her very perfumed presence. Then, I remember her mission, and draw away from her arms.
“Can’t we just stay in?” I plead. “We can go to the kitchen and bake cookies and watch a terrible movie, instead of being surrounded by the drunken masses.”
“As fun as that sounds,” she says, “I didn’t spend forty-five minutes doing my hair to stay in. C’mon, sweetie. Don’t you want to do something fun?”
Not really, I think. But Kara is so eager, and I’m half worried that she will bodily drag me out of the room if I don’t agree. “Fine,” I sigh. “But I won’t stay anywhere more than an hour.”
“We’ll see about that!” Kara crows in victory, and ushers me back into the room.
First, like the true friend she is, she helps me clean up, making my bed and throwing away days’ worth of trash and takeout containers. Then, Kara sits me down in front of the full-length mirror. I watch almost in awe as she gently untangles my hair, touching up a few strands with the curling iron until it’s restored to a voluminous, glossy mane of curls. Then, she turns me away from the mirror as she applies my makeup. I wince as she pokes me in the eye with the mascara wand, but otherwise, it’s a painless process.
When she turns me back round, I struggle to restrain a gasp. I don’t often wear heavy makeup because I’m terrible when it comes to cosmetics, but with Kara’s flawless touch, I could be a model. My brown eyes are smoked out with a heavy wing; my lips have been glossed into a pale pink pout. She even somehow sculpted my cheekbones and nose, highlighting and contouring me into an ethereal version of myself.
“Kara, you’re a genius!” I hug her and she squeezes me back tightly.
“I try,” she says with a gentle smile. “Now pick out something hot to wear and let’s go!”
Ten minutes later, in a short red dress and cute flats, I’m being led by the hand across our sprawling campus. Small crowds of giggling students stagger past, reeking of cheap wine and bottom-shelf booze. It’s a beautiful night; the moon is almost full, illuminating our way, and the air is still and warm. I breathe in the scent of wildflowers and remind myself that outside air is superior to the stale air conditioning of my room.
As we walk up the sidewalk to one of the frat houses, I suddenly go cold all over: I remember that this dress is one of Christopher’s favorites.
“Kara, I think I need to go home,” I say uneasily. I smooth invisible wrinkles from the dress, remembering Christopher slowly taking it off of me while pressing kisses onto my exposed skin as he went. I feel dizzy.
“Come on, Bails,” Kara encourages, holding both of my hands in hers. “You’ve made it this far. Don’t let some random summer romance ruin your life. You’re better than that.”
Christopher Maddox is definitely not a stupid boy, I think in protest, but suddenly I’m being pulled into the frat house, and I’m unable to think straight anymore.
I’ve never seen so much activity in such a chaotic space. Hoards of students I don’t recognize are clumped together, drinking, talking, laughing, and flirting. Music thumps from several huge speakers, reverberating throughout the entire house. Alcohol is everywhere: in cups, in kegs, sloshed onto the floor, and spilled on the furniture. I’m suddenly grateful for Christopher letting me drink wine with him; otherwise, I’d be completely unprepared.
Kara’s roommate Melanie yells an indiscernible greeting from the kitchen. We snake our way past several making-out couples to greet her. She’s talking to a tall guy with green eyes, and he smiles at me as we approach. Surprised, I blink at him but manage to return the gesture.
“So glad y’all made it here!” Melanie squeals, sloppily kissing both me and Kara on the cheek. Melanie is the quintessential southern belle, with the musical drawl to prove it. “This is Kevin,” she says, gesturing to the green-eyed boy next to her. “Kara, won’t you come with me to grab another drink?”
Just like that, they’re gone, and I realize abruptly that this has been a set-up.
Kevin and I eye each other awkwardly, and I try not to groan. Kara must have told Melanie that I’ve been sad about a failed relationship, and they’ve made it their personal mission to find me someone else. Kevin is cute enough, but I know nothing about him, and the thought of being interested in anyone besides Chris makes me ill. Still, I decide to be brave since I’m already here.
“Well, that was awkward,” I say, figuring that acknowledging the situation is better than ignoring it.