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5. Floss more?
And there you have it. A perfect freshman year with more chocolate, fewer boys, and I might even get to wear one of those cute habit thingies by the end.
I hop out of the shower, wrap my hair in a towel, and throw on my robe.
“Good morning! Well, afternoon, actually...” Jenna sits at the kitchen table as I stride in. She’s bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as always with her feet propped up on the table’s edge. “There’s coffee,” she says as she sips from her own mug.
“Thanks,” I say, absolutely needing it after last night.
“And doughnuts,” she adds.
I glance at the open white box on the countertop. Not homemade chocolate fudge, but it’ll do for now.
I fix myself a mug and grab a glazed before plopping down in the empty chair across from her.
“It’s about time you got up,” Jenna says. “I was about to come kick the door in and yank you out of there myself.”
I chuckle at the imagery. “Well, I would still be there, but I then I remembered I have that birthday lunch with my parents... and Seth.”
She frowns. “Surely he’s not still coming to that, right?”
“Don’t know. Don’t care.” I munch on my doughnut. “I’m just going to go, throw on a smile, and fake my way through it until it’s over.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Then, I’ll come right back here and... I don’t know. Maybe cry some more.” I pout. “Hey, do you have to be super religious to be a nun?” I ask.
“My god,” Jenna says, gawking at me beneath her strawberry blonde bangs. “It’s worse than I thought.”
“I should buy a bible.”
“May I make a better suggestion?”
“If it involves getting dressed up and going to a party of some sort, no,” I say. “Anything other than that will be taken under consideration.”
“I think we should get dressed up and go to a party.”
I sigh. “You don’t listen when I talk, do you?”
“You know me. I tune out bullshit. And you are very much full of it if you think lying around here in a bathrobe and eating doughnuts will get you through this. You need to get out of this house and mingle. You need to, dare I say it, check off that number five.”
“I already did that,” I say.
“No, you didn’t.”
“Drew was my number five.”
She scoffs. “That doesn’t count.”
“Number five. Fall in love with a stranger. You used to call him Resting Prick Face because we didn’t know his name. It counts.”
Jenna cracks up. “I totally forgot about that. Good times, eh?”
I grunt as I stand. “I’m getting another doughnut.”
I walk over to the counter, grab another glazed with my sticky fingers, and head back to the table.
As I sit down, Jenna leans over and lays a small, velvet box in front of me.
