Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 99623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
No, Emmy, stop it. Don’t self-sabotage out of fear. You’re better than that and Stella doesn’t deserve to be the victim of said fear.
“This is me.” I stop at the trunk and dig my keys from my bag.
“Nice ride,” she says, skimming her hand appreciatively over the body.
If she were anyone else, I’d assume she was being disingenuous, but Stella’s face is completely open and honest. She truly believes my little old Honda is nice.
“Thanks. Bought her myself,” I say as I duck into the driver’s seat.
“Does she have a name?” Stella asks once she’s buckled.
“No...” I hedge.
The bubbly blonde to my right gasps. “What? You have to name your car. Everyone knows that, Em.”
My heart slams against my chest in tandem with my foot slamming against the brake pedal. Stella braces herself on the dash as the momentum of my sudden stop sends her forward.
“What? What is it?” she asks, her voice trembling slightly.
Embarrassment renders me mute.
“Emmy, are you okay? You’re totally freaking me out.”
My breath stalls in my chest and my hands sweat against the leather of the steering wheel. I pinch my eyes closed and try to regulate my breathing.
Sensing something is deeply wrong, Stella softens her voice when she speaks again. “Hey, it’s okay. Deep breaths, right?” She says each word slowly, with a deliberateness that tells me this isn’t her first rodeo with panic attacks.
“Everything is okay. You’re okay.”
I nod as I exhale.
“Do you think you can pull the car to the side of the road?”
I nod again before peeling my lids open and guiding my car to the shoulder. Thankfully there are no other vehicles in sight.
“What happened just now?”
So much for her thinking I’m normal. Now she knows I’m a freak.
“You don’t have to tell me, but I’m a great listener.”
“It...” I swallow hard. “It was the name. I, um—”
“Say no more.” Stella waves a hand in the air. “I’ll never use it again. Promise.”
Relief washes over me instantaneously. “Thank you.”
“We all have our shit, girl. No worries. Now, if you’re good to drive, I need some cinnamon-sugar goodness, stat.”
“Yeah, I am. Just tell me where to go.”
“Didn’t you luck out?” she asks as I pull back onto the road. “A bomb-ass roomie and your own personal very local tour guide.”
* * *
“Oh. My. God.” Stella pops the last of her pretzel into her mouth. “I swear, they put crack in the cinnamon. There’s no other explanation.”
“That good, huh?” I ask as I toss my trash.
“Girl. You’ll have to try one next time. You’ll never get that salty garbage again.”
“I happen to like my salty garbage, thank you very much.”
“Yeah, yeah. Well, we all have our flaws.”
I can’t help but laugh at her antics. Stella is a breath of fresh air and exactly what my life has been missing for the last nine months. Hell, probably longer, seeing as all of the people I thought were my friends were the first to turn on me when shit hit the fan.
“You mind if I grab a few things?” I ask.
“Girl, first thing you need to know about me? I will never say no to a Target run. This is my literal happy place.”
I grin. My former friends wouldn’t be caught dead shopping at Target. Yep, Stella is everything I’ve been missing and more.
We each grab a shopping cart and, through some unspoken agreement, head toward the home section of the store.
“What all do you need?” I ask as we peruse the aisles.
“Need?” Stella spins in a wide circle before turning down the next aisle. “I don’t know, but Target will tell me. Trust the bullseye.”
I roll my lips inward to keep from laughing. “If you say so.”
“I know so! It’s like, science, or something.”
“Or something,” I snort, tossing a basic white duvet insert into my cart.
“Trust the process, Emmy. Trust the process.”
“You’re crazy.” A giggle punctuates my words.
“The best people are.”
For the next half hour, we continue up and down the aisles, stopping when something catches our attention, until our carts are full.
Stella’s is a mishmash of things, while mine is loaded down with essentials, since I came to Georgia with nothing more than a single bag of clothing, my phone, and beloved laptop.
Oh, and Oreos—but those are essential for me.
“Are you going to any of the Welcome Week events?” Stella asks as we load our bags into the trunk.
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “I read online you should, but...”
“But nothing! Personally, I plan on hitting up the ice cream social tonight.”
“I do like ice cream.”
“Perfect. We’ll go together.”
And just like that, I have plans with a friend on my first night at college.
Chapter Four
Emmy
Something pulls me from a deep, dreamless sleep. My eyes pop open and I bolt upright in my bed, desperately searching the small room for what pulled me from my slumber.