all afternoon. It never occurred to her she bore a heavy burden grieving alone. Then the day came Moe yelled at her for not going to class.
"Why don't you go to class? You think you'll get to be the big-time reporter you want to be so bad if you skip class?" Moe glared at her, a backpack slung over her shoulder ready to head to class. "Are you too good to go? Is that it? Too smart for your own good? Because if you don't go they are going to start failing you and then what? Back home to the boonies you say you come from?"
"No." Laura huddled under the blanket with some dumb romance book. It took her mind off serious stuff.
"Well, I know for a fact you have journalism class in twenty minutes and that comforter is stuck to you like a wedgie in the crack of a sweaty, fat kid's ass."
"So what?" Laura tried not to laugh. "What's it to you, okay? Just leave me alone. Go on, get outta here."
"What's it to me? I'll tell you. Because if you get thrown out I get stuck with some nerd roommate who can't attract the hot guys when we go out, like you, that's what. And my whole social scene goes out the window and I never get laid again for the next four years. I'll practically become a virgin again. Technically, after four years of no sex, that's what happens."
"Doesn't sound as if you had too much trouble the other night, slut puppy." Laura threw back without looking up.
"I thought you were asleep." Moe tapped her foot.
"Who can sleep with your loud mouth getting banged?"
"That's it. You're pissing me off now. You better get your shit together because I don't want you to get kicked out and go back home."
The word home sent Laura into an emotional spiral. She pulled the comforter up to her forehead and willed the tears to stop. "I don't have a home, okay?"
Then the tears spilled down in a river of release and she let out a great sob. She waited for Moe to shut the door and leave, but she didn't. The comforter was pulled down off her face, and there stood Moe with a crooked smile.
"Okay, spill. Oh, wait, it looks like you are." Moe grinned. "I guess I can skip my class for once."
Laura told her about her parents dying in the fire right before she left for college, about her beloved home where she grew up, about her good friend, Mr. B, and her special lake. She even told her about the mysterious man in black who appeared every few years.
"Most likely he's got it for you bad, man." Moe laughed. "I mean look at you, you're smoking hot with that hair, those eyes, and that body. Has he ever touched you?"
"Well, no. And part of the time I was a kid anyways."
"Hmm, evil pedophile maybe?"
"No, he never came near me. Besides, he looks like somebody's big uncle."
"Yeah, sugar daddy uncle maybe. Did he call out crude comments?"
"No."
"Said, 'Hey, baby, wanna get it on?'"
"No!" Laura laughed.
"So there you go. He's a good guy. A guardian angel who ogles you from afar. Sure, you get a buff guardian angel in black. Me? With my big-boned dorkiness I'd get some fat slob with drool hanging off his mouth tripping over himself in awe to glimpse my Amazon beauty."
"You're not dorky," Laura insisted, but she felt better.
That night they stayed in crying and laughing. Moe hugged her and listened.
They whipped up frothy margaritas in their blender, dug around in their shared closet for tortilla chips and salsa, and spent hours chatting about boys and school like normal freshman girls do. Laura felt like a clean and empty bowl waiting to be filled up again.
But she never told Moe about her special powers. Since then, almost four years ago, she never did. She forced herself to forget about her strange abilities as well, and over time the thoughts of others faded from her mind. She now had a safe harbor with Moe and it helped free her from her past, a little bit.
After her parents died, Mr. B had convinced Laura to leave for college. She had no choice. She had nowhere else to go and she wanted to get as far away from Coopersville as she
"Why don't you go to class? You think you'll get to be the big-time reporter you want to be so bad if you skip class?" Moe glared at her, a backpack slung over her shoulder ready to head to class. "Are you too good to go? Is that it? Too smart for your own good? Because if you don't go they are going to start failing you and then what? Back home to the boonies you say you come from?"
"No." Laura huddled under the blanket with some dumb romance book. It took her mind off serious stuff.
"Well, I know for a fact you have journalism class in twenty minutes and that comforter is stuck to you like a wedgie in the crack of a sweaty, fat kid's ass."
"So what?" Laura tried not to laugh. "What's it to you, okay? Just leave me alone. Go on, get outta here."
"What's it to me? I'll tell you. Because if you get thrown out I get stuck with some nerd roommate who can't attract the hot guys when we go out, like you, that's what. And my whole social scene goes out the window and I never get laid again for the next four years. I'll practically become a virgin again. Technically, after four years of no sex, that's what happens."
"Doesn't sound as if you had too much trouble the other night, slut puppy." Laura threw back without looking up.
"I thought you were asleep." Moe tapped her foot.
"Who can sleep with your loud mouth getting banged?"
"That's it. You're pissing me off now. You better get your shit together because I don't want you to get kicked out and go back home."
The word home sent Laura into an emotional spiral. She pulled the comforter up to her forehead and willed the tears to stop. "I don't have a home, okay?"
Then the tears spilled down in a river of release and she let out a great sob. She waited for Moe to shut the door and leave, but she didn't. The comforter was pulled down off her face, and there stood Moe with a crooked smile.
"Okay, spill. Oh, wait, it looks like you are." Moe grinned. "I guess I can skip my class for once."
Laura told her about her parents dying in the fire right before she left for college, about her beloved home where she grew up, about her good friend, Mr. B, and her special lake. She even told her about the mysterious man in black who appeared every few years.
"Most likely he's got it for you bad, man." Moe laughed. "I mean look at you, you're smoking hot with that hair, those eyes, and that body. Has he ever touched you?"
"Well, no. And part of the time I was a kid anyways."
"Hmm, evil pedophile maybe?"
"No, he never came near me. Besides, he looks like somebody's big uncle."
"Yeah, sugar daddy uncle maybe. Did he call out crude comments?"
"No."
"Said, 'Hey, baby, wanna get it on?'"
"No!" Laura laughed.
"So there you go. He's a good guy. A guardian angel who ogles you from afar. Sure, you get a buff guardian angel in black. Me? With my big-boned dorkiness I'd get some fat slob with drool hanging off his mouth tripping over himself in awe to glimpse my Amazon beauty."
"You're not dorky," Laura insisted, but she felt better.
That night they stayed in crying and laughing. Moe hugged her and listened.
They whipped up frothy margaritas in their blender, dug around in their shared closet for tortilla chips and salsa, and spent hours chatting about boys and school like normal freshman girls do. Laura felt like a clean and empty bowl waiting to be filled up again.
But she never told Moe about her special powers. Since then, almost four years ago, she never did. She forced herself to forget about her strange abilities as well, and over time the thoughts of others faded from her mind. She now had a safe harbor with Moe and it helped free her from her past, a little bit.
After her parents died, Mr. B had convinced Laura to leave for college. She had no choice. She had nowhere else to go and she wanted to get as far away from Coopersville as she
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