Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 112951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Holly developed a new crush twice a week. “Not many people are going to be there. Makes sense she’d want to go tonight. Prime time for flirting.”
“I don’t want to go to the stupid library.”
“What else are you going to do?” Where Holly and her cousin went, Missy went, and vice versa. The three didn’t stray far from each other’s sides.
She shrugged, glancing at our television. “We could watch movies in here?”
I almost recoiled. I was movie buddies with Kristina, not Missy, not the roommate who laughed in my face because I didn’t like the same chick flicks she did. Plus, I knew she talked shit about me. I walked in once when Holly and the cousin were there. The room got completely silent. I had no clue what they could’ve even been saying about me, but I had no doubt it’d been happening.
“I was planning to go to the library tonight, too.”
“You were?”
Her disbelief was almost complementary. She did think I had a life.
I shrugged, spun back around, and booted my computer. “Why not? I need to study. And besides, the library closes early, doesn’t it?”
“So?”
“Maybe Holly’s crush will have a party to invite you guys to. The best plans are usually not having any plans.”
“Yeah?”
Someone knocked on the door just as I was pulling up my email. I stood and nodded to her. “Yeah. I’d go with the plan of hoping to find some action afterward. No one goes to a party before ten anyway.”
I opened the door as I was finishing that sentence.
Casey Winchem stood there, the same Casey who Gage had been begging me to let him sleep with and the same Casey who intimidated me because she was so confident.
“Hey.” I blinked a couple of times. I was on friendly terms with Casey, Laura, and Sarah, but none of them ever came to my room. A part of me wasn’t even sure they knew my name. They always referred to me as “Hey, You.”
“Hey.”
“What’s up?” I opened the door wider.
She looked past me and waved. “Hi.”
Missy didn’t wave back. I think she was in shock I knew someone else.
Casey frowned slightly but then looked back to me. “Uh, we’re going to a fraternity party tonight. Did you want to come with us?”
“Uh . . .”
“You have a car, don’t you? Sarah and Kristina had to go home for the weekend. It’s just Laura and me.”
Now it made sense.
Sarah had the only car they used. No one else brought one since parking was a challenge around freshman dorms. I had a car. Everyone in my family had one. It was the one big gift our mom splurged for when we graduated. We weren’t wealthy so it was the last big gift I’d be getting until I got married.
When I was in my thirties.
If ever.
I shook my head. Back to the conversation. “You need a ride to the party?”
“Well.” She bit her lip. “Kind of. I mean, we can get a ride with Adams or Kreigerson.” Names I didn’t know. “It’s the getting home part we’re worried about. The guys will get drunk and take off on their own, if you know what I mean. If Laura or I end up hooking up with someone, that’s another thing, but yeah. I’d like to have a backup plan if anything happens.”
Backup.
That was me.
I was plan B.
And I wasn’t a pushover, either. “No, thank you. I’ll see you later. Have fun tonight.”
I shut the door.
I knew I was coming off like a bitch, but I ignored my roommate’s still gaping mouth. She didn’t understand. No one used me anymore. I wasn’t going to let it happen, not again.
And with that in mind, I eyed my computer.
I really did need to learn how to study. This weekend was just put into that slot.
I was going to be a psychologist . . . maybe?
I had it narrowed down. I got sick at the sight of blood, and being a lawyer was out, so that really only left being a psychologist. Not a psychiatrist—again, sick at the sight of blood. I’d had to endure that before I got to see the people in the padded cells. The other option was going for my MBA, but that meant business classes, lots of them. I wasn’t sure. Gage was going for business, and he complained about his classes. Not often, but enough that it left a bad taste in my mouth.
Still, I had to keep my options open.
Depending on my job experiences, I would have a better idea which to choose. That meant getting a job at a psychiatric hospital, or becoming a research assistant for a Ph.D. student. I could do that during the school year, and when I went home for the summer, I’d figure something else out.
All in all, I was content when Sunday night came around.