semester and we know where everything is, doesn’t make us better than them.”
“Uh, yeah, it kind of does.” I roll my eyes at her absurd logic. “We’re like upper class freshmen.”
She sips her coffee to hide her smile, something only I seem able to bring out. “You know there’s no such thing as an upper class freshman.”
I sigh, running my fingers through my lightly tousled hair. “Yeah, I know, especially for people like you and me. We’re like two black sheep.”
Which might be the truest statement I’ve ever said. Over the last three months, I’ve learned a lot about Callie and just how traumatic her past was. Raped by her older brother’s friend at twelve, Callie has spent the years since then hiding what happened and building a shell around herself, cloaking herself in ugly, baggy clothes and isolating herself from her friends until she had none left. I’ve made it my mission the last few months to push her out of her shell.
Yeah, she’s still a work in progress. I have yet to get her to wear a dress, shorts, or anything remotely tight enough to show off her petite figure. I’m working on it, though.
“There are many more black sheep out there than just you and me,” she disagrees with me, as she typically does. “And I’ve toned it down. I’m even wearing a red t-shirt today, like the list said to do.”
My lips quirk. “Which would look even better if you’d let those pretty locks of yours down, instead of hiding them in that ponytail all the time.”
“One step at a time,” she says. “It was hard enough just letting my hair grow out. It makes me feel weird. Besides, that has yet to be added to the list.”
Aw, the infamous list, one of my most brilliant drunken plans. After a night of one too many shots of vodka, we confessed our darkest secrets and then I decided that we should make a list of things we’re most afraid to do. Over the last couple of months, we’ve been gradually working to cross items off.
“Well, it needs to be. In fact, I’m doing it when I get back to my room. Plus, you’re still wearing that God-awful hoodie,” I say, tugging on the bottom of her ratty grey jacket. “I thought we talked about that hideous thing. That you’re beautiful and you don’t need to cover up. Besides, it’s like eighty degrees outside.”
She wraps the jacket around herself. “Subject change, please.”
I swing my arm around her and sigh, but give her exactly what she asks. “Fine, but one day we’re going to talk about a complete makeover, which I will supervise.”
She sighs heavily. “We’ll see.”
Her Debby Downer attitude is ruining my mood. As her best friend, it’s my job to cheer her up.
I slam to a halt and whirl around in front of her. “I just have to say one more thing.” I place a finger to the corner of her eye. “I like the maroon eyeliner much better than the excessive black.”
“I have your approval on that.” She presses her hand dramatically to her heart, a gesture she picked up from me. “I’m so relieved. It’s been weighing on my mind since this morning.”
I roll my eyes as I smile. “You’re doing good in every department, I just wish you’d wear a dress or shorts or something for once and show off those legs of yours.”
Her expression instantly sinks. “Seth, you know why… I mean, you know… I can’t…”
“I know. I’m just trying to be encouraging.”
“I know you are and that’s why I love you.”
I want to hug her for saying that. It’s been a long time since anyone has said that they loved me. Even my mother has taken to a formal, “I’m glad you’re okay. Talk to you later. Bye,” whenever we talk on the phone.
“You’re so much happier than when I first met you.” I tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I wish you could be this way around everyone, Callie. That you would stop hiding from
“Uh, yeah, it kind of does.” I roll my eyes at her absurd logic. “We’re like upper class freshmen.”
She sips her coffee to hide her smile, something only I seem able to bring out. “You know there’s no such thing as an upper class freshman.”
I sigh, running my fingers through my lightly tousled hair. “Yeah, I know, especially for people like you and me. We’re like two black sheep.”
Which might be the truest statement I’ve ever said. Over the last three months, I’ve learned a lot about Callie and just how traumatic her past was. Raped by her older brother’s friend at twelve, Callie has spent the years since then hiding what happened and building a shell around herself, cloaking herself in ugly, baggy clothes and isolating herself from her friends until she had none left. I’ve made it my mission the last few months to push her out of her shell.
Yeah, she’s still a work in progress. I have yet to get her to wear a dress, shorts, or anything remotely tight enough to show off her petite figure. I’m working on it, though.
“There are many more black sheep out there than just you and me,” she disagrees with me, as she typically does. “And I’ve toned it down. I’m even wearing a red t-shirt today, like the list said to do.”
My lips quirk. “Which would look even better if you’d let those pretty locks of yours down, instead of hiding them in that ponytail all the time.”
“One step at a time,” she says. “It was hard enough just letting my hair grow out. It makes me feel weird. Besides, that has yet to be added to the list.”
Aw, the infamous list, one of my most brilliant drunken plans. After a night of one too many shots of vodka, we confessed our darkest secrets and then I decided that we should make a list of things we’re most afraid to do. Over the last couple of months, we’ve been gradually working to cross items off.
“Well, it needs to be. In fact, I’m doing it when I get back to my room. Plus, you’re still wearing that God-awful hoodie,” I say, tugging on the bottom of her ratty grey jacket. “I thought we talked about that hideous thing. That you’re beautiful and you don’t need to cover up. Besides, it’s like eighty degrees outside.”
She wraps the jacket around herself. “Subject change, please.”
I swing my arm around her and sigh, but give her exactly what she asks. “Fine, but one day we’re going to talk about a complete makeover, which I will supervise.”
She sighs heavily. “We’ll see.”
Her Debby Downer attitude is ruining my mood. As her best friend, it’s my job to cheer her up.
I slam to a halt and whirl around in front of her. “I just have to say one more thing.” I place a finger to the corner of her eye. “I like the maroon eyeliner much better than the excessive black.”
“I have your approval on that.” She presses her hand dramatically to her heart, a gesture she picked up from me. “I’m so relieved. It’s been weighing on my mind since this morning.”
I roll my eyes as I smile. “You’re doing good in every department, I just wish you’d wear a dress or shorts or something for once and show off those legs of yours.”
Her expression instantly sinks. “Seth, you know why… I mean, you know… I can’t…”
“I know. I’m just trying to be encouraging.”
“I know you are and that’s why I love you.”
I want to hug her for saying that. It’s been a long time since anyone has said that they loved me. Even my mother has taken to a formal, “I’m glad you’re okay. Talk to you later. Bye,” whenever we talk on the phone.
“You’re so much happier than when I first met you.” I tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I wish you could be this way around everyone, Callie. That you would stop hiding from
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