AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I waited, one eye on my dorm room door, the other on the clock. And when the clock struck midnight, I expected the Devil to appear.
But… nothing.
No sudden darkness, no piercing yellow eyes hiding in the shadows. The earth didn’t tremble and judgment day didn’t come.
I passed the hours by curling up on my desk chair, my sweater stretched over my knees, sipping on lukewarm coffee. It wasn’t until the first of the day’s sunrays broke through the gaps in the curtain, splashing golden streaks over the cheap carpet, did something new and foreign bloom in the pit of my stomach.
Hope.
Maybe my plan worked. I can imagine him storming into my father’s condo, ripping the door off my childhood bedroom and roaring with anger when he realizes the bed’s empty.
Maybe Ihavewon.
“Hey, birthday girl!” comes a croaky voice from the other side of the room. Nellie, my roommate, is propping herself up on her elbows in bed. “What the hell are you doing awake? It’s like…“ she taps the screen of her cell and groans at the sudden brightness. “Fuckin’ early, that’s what it is.”
I smile over my coffee as she flops back down onto her pillows. “Sorry,” I whisper, uncurling myself and padding across the room back to my own bed. “I hope I didn’t wake you?”
But the soft sound of her breathing tells me she’s already out for the count again. I slip between my sheets and curl into a ball. With the comfort of daybreak, my eyes get heavy, and I’m able to slide into a Devil-free sleep.
* * *
Nellie casts a judgmental eye over my silhouette and frowns. “I don’t understand. It’s like your entire wardrobe is tailor-made for a nun.”
With a fresh scowl, I turn back to the full-length mirror propped up against the door and run my hands over my black maxi dress. The waistline sits under my bust and falls straight to the floor, the light and billowy fabric pooling at my feet. “I think it’s cute,” I say blankly, “Is it not cute?” I glance up at her reflection in the mirror, watching as she tugs out silky and shimmery dresses out of her trunk. We moved in three weeks ago, and she still hasn’t unpacked her stuff. All my possessions, on the other hand, are neatly folded in drawers or hung up in closets.
Nellie lets out a snort. “Cute if you’re a nun. Here,” she says, tossing a strip of fabric into my hands. “This will look incredible on you.”
Holding it up against myself, it’s my turn to snort. “I’m not a nun, but I’m not a three-dollar-hooker either.”
She laughs. “Just try it on, loser.”
In the short time I’ve lived with Nellie, I’ve realized how similar we are in some respects and how different we are in others. We’re both stubborn and always have an opinion at the tip of our tongues, and neither care if it’s solicited or not. In everything else, we’re polar opposites. Looks: Nellie’s California tan and sharp blond bob make her look like aHollistermodel, whereas my pasty skin and frizzy red hair have had me mistaken for Princess Merida fromBraveby a handful of kids at the grocery store.
Oh, and dress sense. Nellie wears ass-flashing booty shorts and cropped tops by day, and plunging LBD’s by night. I, on the other hand, own three pairs of jeans and two maxi dresses thatmightflash my ankles if the wind is blowing in the right direction.
“Jesus Christ and all of his disciples,” Nellie gasps as I smooth down the fabric of her dress against my body. “You look insane.”
Rolling my eyes, I humor her and brace my reflection. All I can see isflesh.So much goddamn flesh. The scarlet red silk clings to the dip of my waist, the sweetheart neckline pushing up my breasts to only inches under my chin. The cut of the dress ends just under the curve of my ass, but the side slit reveals even more, most noticeably the hem of my boring cotton panties. “This is ridiculous,” I laugh. But I can’t stop staring at myself.
“It’s decided. You’re wearing it—and no protests.” She stabs a perfectly manicured finger in the direction of my little workshop in the corner of our dorm, where my paint pots and my newly thrifted mirror lays half-stained. “I’ll fuse it to your body using your own glue gun if you dare to take it off.”
“Fine,” I grumble, but the butterflies in my stomach aren’t so gloomy. “But I’m going to need a few shots before we head to the common room if I’m going to enter like this.”
Nellie grabs the bottle ofSvedkafrom her desk and two egg cups we’ve been using as makeshift shot glasses. “Done and done.”
* * *
The butterflies buzzing in my stomach are acting like they’ve dropped too much acid, dancing around erratically. Drowning them in cheap vodka didn’t work. “Are you sure I don’t look ridiculous?” I whisper to Nellie as we walk down the hall towards the common room. “I don’t want to be known as the whore of the course.”
She raises a microbladed eyebrow and gives me an unsteady twirl. Her shorter-than-short skater dress floats up to reveal the lace of her panties. “If you’re the whore then I’m the whole brothel. And besides, you’ve known these people for less than a month. You can always swap courses—or if you really made a fool out of yourself, it isn’t too late to change colleges!” She throws me a wink and pushes through into the common room.
It’s busier than I expected, especially considering Nellie only found out it was my birthday three days ago and created a last-minute Facebook event for a party at our building. The sea of bodies is overwhelming. Some are moving collectively to the house music blaring over the speakers, and the others are sprawled over the seating area, red cups in hand and heads together.
“You’re a popular girl, Poppy,” Nellie says, squeezing my hand.
I laugh her off. Looking around the room I recognize three people, two from my finance class, and the other from global management. Everyone else is here because, well, even the smartest students in the country can’t resist a good party.
“I need a drink,” I mutter, clutching my hands to my chest to claim at least a fraction of my modesty back.
