could do without the coursework.
It didn’t help that I had no idea what I was majoring in. Here I was almost a junior in college and still had no direction. My parents liked to remind me how much they were paying for me to “find myself” every chance they got.
I liked to remind them they told me I had to go to college.
Even so, declaring a major was something I was going to have to do. I just wasn’t ready to commit to any one thing. Any one job. There were so many things out there that seemed interesting. I did know what I didn’t want to do.
I didn’t want to sit behind a desk.
I didn’t want to wear boring pantsuits and stuffy blouses.
I didn’t want to be at the mercy of a boss who liked to tell me what to do.
And I sure as hell didn’t want one of those nine-to-five, forty-hour week life sentences.
My criteria ruled out a lot.
But it didn’t really point me in any direction.
I groaned as I tossed one of the many pillows onto the heap of blankets half spilling onto the floor. It was too early to think about this. I’d do it later.
After coffee.
After I saw Braeden.
I groaned again. Thoughts of him weren’t allowed. Hell, if I thought I could get out of our usual pancake breakfast without a million and one questions from Rimmel and Missy, I wouldn’t go. Why did I even agree to weekend pancakes? Sundays were supposed to be for sleeping in!
Okay, it was already after ten.
I guess it wasn’t that early.
Rimmel spent the night with Romeo last night, so I had the room to myself this morning. After I made a trip to the bathroom, took a quick shower, and brushed my teeth, I came back and walked around in my panties and bra.
Hey, it wasn’t every day a girl had her dorm room all to herself.
As I was rummaging through my drawers for something to wear, I saw something I shoved in there and “forgot” about. I didn’t really. I pretended I forgot about it when really, I looked at it every single time I got dressed.
Pathetic. That’s what I was.
I should get rid of it. But I knew I wouldn’t. Not yet anyway. It made me feel… Well, I don’t know how it made me feel.
I slammed the drawer closed and yanked open another. I was so not in the mood to get cute this morning. This week had been tough, and I was exhausted.
Aside from the heavy classwork and the pressure I was suddenly feeling to pick a major—and a direction for my life—my brain never shut off. Like ever. I thought about Braeden. I thought about Missy. I even thought about Trent.
I definitely avoided them all. It was quite the task trying to avoid people you had deliberately made part of your life.
It was exhausting.
And so were the dreams.
But I wasn’t going to think about any of that.
I was going to get dressed, smile, and eat pancakes.
When it was done I could hide out in the room the rest of the day and watch makeup tutorials online.
I loved doing makeup. I loved watching other people do makeup. There was something peaceful and mind-clearing about starting with a blank canvas—a fresh face—and enhancing its natural beauty.
I glanced at the clock. I was late. So I did something I never did.
I threw on a pair of sweatpants. Yes, they were the cute kind. Fitted but a little slouchy. They were hot pink with wide pockets slashing across the hips. The bottoms sported wide bands and hugged my ankles.
On top, I threw on a white tank and a black T-shirt. It was cotton, but it draped and felt like silk. I tucked just the front of it in so the waist tie was exposed and didn’t look lumpy beneath the hem of the shirt.
The only makeup I bothered with was some cherry-flavored lip-gloss and some mascara. My hair was in a messy bun high on my head, with a few strands falling out around my neck and face. I left it that way and added a pair of gold aviator sunglasses like a headband.
On my way out the door, I grabbed my oversized Michael Kors bag and shoved my bare feet into a pair of slip-on Sketchers. The diner we always
It didn’t help that I had no idea what I was majoring in. Here I was almost a junior in college and still had no direction. My parents liked to remind me how much they were paying for me to “find myself” every chance they got.
I liked to remind them they told me I had to go to college.
Even so, declaring a major was something I was going to have to do. I just wasn’t ready to commit to any one thing. Any one job. There were so many things out there that seemed interesting. I did know what I didn’t want to do.
I didn’t want to sit behind a desk.
I didn’t want to wear boring pantsuits and stuffy blouses.
I didn’t want to be at the mercy of a boss who liked to tell me what to do.
And I sure as hell didn’t want one of those nine-to-five, forty-hour week life sentences.
My criteria ruled out a lot.
But it didn’t really point me in any direction.
I groaned as I tossed one of the many pillows onto the heap of blankets half spilling onto the floor. It was too early to think about this. I’d do it later.
After coffee.
After I saw Braeden.
I groaned again. Thoughts of him weren’t allowed. Hell, if I thought I could get out of our usual pancake breakfast without a million and one questions from Rimmel and Missy, I wouldn’t go. Why did I even agree to weekend pancakes? Sundays were supposed to be for sleeping in!
Okay, it was already after ten.
I guess it wasn’t that early.
Rimmel spent the night with Romeo last night, so I had the room to myself this morning. After I made a trip to the bathroom, took a quick shower, and brushed my teeth, I came back and walked around in my panties and bra.
Hey, it wasn’t every day a girl had her dorm room all to herself.
As I was rummaging through my drawers for something to wear, I saw something I shoved in there and “forgot” about. I didn’t really. I pretended I forgot about it when really, I looked at it every single time I got dressed.
Pathetic. That’s what I was.
I should get rid of it. But I knew I wouldn’t. Not yet anyway. It made me feel… Well, I don’t know how it made me feel.
I slammed the drawer closed and yanked open another. I was so not in the mood to get cute this morning. This week had been tough, and I was exhausted.
Aside from the heavy classwork and the pressure I was suddenly feeling to pick a major—and a direction for my life—my brain never shut off. Like ever. I thought about Braeden. I thought about Missy. I even thought about Trent.
I definitely avoided them all. It was quite the task trying to avoid people you had deliberately made part of your life.
It was exhausting.
And so were the dreams.
But I wasn’t going to think about any of that.
I was going to get dressed, smile, and eat pancakes.
When it was done I could hide out in the room the rest of the day and watch makeup tutorials online.
I loved doing makeup. I loved watching other people do makeup. There was something peaceful and mind-clearing about starting with a blank canvas—a fresh face—and enhancing its natural beauty.
I glanced at the clock. I was late. So I did something I never did.
I threw on a pair of sweatpants. Yes, they were the cute kind. Fitted but a little slouchy. They were hot pink with wide pockets slashing across the hips. The bottoms sported wide bands and hugged my ankles.
On top, I threw on a white tank and a black T-shirt. It was cotton, but it draped and felt like silk. I tucked just the front of it in so the waist tie was exposed and didn’t look lumpy beneath the hem of the shirt.
The only makeup I bothered with was some cherry-flavored lip-gloss and some mascara. My hair was in a messy bun high on my head, with a few strands falling out around my neck and face. I left it that way and added a pair of gold aviator sunglasses like a headband.
On my way out the door, I grabbed my oversized Michael Kors bag and shoved my bare feet into a pair of slip-on Sketchers. The diner we always
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