[OceanEyes28]

You know how I said I have zero coordination? You want a reason to believe me?

I was almost jogging out of Music Theory while I made my escape, but since I was the first out the door, I wasn’t worried about running into anyone. That was dumb. While I craned my neck over my shoulder to see if he was catching up to me, I made an error. I tripped over some guy. Nah, I didn’t trip over him. I tackled him.

“****! Watch where you’re going, bitch!”

“Oh, **** that.” While we were both still on the ground, I hurled my Calculus book at his chest. On second glance, I noticed that his chest was adorned with a pink t-shirt that said, “Boyfriend Out of Town.” A little later, I had a good laugh about the guy dressed as a pre-teen slut.

“What the **** was that?” he screamed.

I got up and picked up my things. “Don’t call me a bitch,” I said simply. “Nice shirt.”

My roommate was already in our room when I got there. She was doing yoga. What the ****….

“Hey, Liz!” she said between breaths.

“Hey, Jessica.” I threw my things on the floor and collapsed on my bed. I had a secret stash of Fruit Roll-Ups beneath my bed, and I really wanted one. But Jessica was not about to see where I had hidden them. She acted like a health freak, but I knew she was the one who stole my last bag of mini-Oreos. Bitch.

“Liz…”

“Huh?”

“Some guy just called me and asked if I wanted to go to this party tonight.”

“Did you tell him to go **** himself?”

“Actually… I said yes. I kind of want to go.”

“Ugh… whatever, do what you want. Just don’t get pregnant.”

“That’s not fair at all. I’m very safe.”

“Uh huh.”

“Anyway, you’re coming with me.”

I laughed at that bitch. I laughed at her, and then I rolled over on my side. She would go to the party with the random jackass who no doubt called her up because her name reeks of slut with a heart of gold (Jessica Price…. Name your price!), and I would stay in my room, play music, and eat Fruit Roll-Ups. ****, I’m such a loser. But I didn’t feel like a party. I went to parties in highschool, and they’re all pretty much the same. I’d only actually gotten hardcore drunk once. I puked all over so-and-so’s bathroom. To my credit, I left the bathtub running under some convoluted logic that such a thing would clean up my mess. Or maybe I was just being mean, I can’t remember.

“Come on, Liz, don’t make me go alone. He said he’s going with a friend, and I’ll be alone with two guys, and who knows, you might like him.”

Get on your knees and beg, bitch.

“Jessica, I just dumped a guy I met at a party. No thank you.”

“Liiiiz, pleeeeaaase.” She’s whining, she’s ****ing whining, I can’t stand her when she whines. “I don’t want to go if you don’t go!”

“Then don’t go, problem solved.”

“I have to!”

“Oh my God…. Jessica!”

“Liz!”

I looked at her, she looked at me. She pleaded, I hoped for a bolt of lightning to strike one of us down so that one way or another I wouldn’t have to go.

“Where are you meeting him?”

“Outside his dorm.”

“Jesus Christ… I’d load you up with pepper spray, but I don’t think you’ll remember how to use it.”

“Does this mean you’re going?”

“No. But I’ll make sure you get to the party all right. Okay?”

“Great! It’ll be fun, you won’t want to leave.”

I buried my head in my pillow again. Surely I had time to take another nap before I had to go. Wrong. Jessica shook me and made me “get ready.” I pretended to put on more eyeliner while she applied blush. I’m not a huge fan of makeup. I can do it, but I feel cleaner with less on. I wasn’t changing out of my wife beater. But I humored Jessica by putting on pinstripe pants. She thought those were cute. She attacked me with mousse, but I threatened to push her out of the window. She backed off, and I wiped strawberry scented mousse off my neck. Ugh. And then she sprayed perfume everywhere, and I left the room.

She found me in the hallway, and we left. I ****ing hate her.