Page 8 of The Very First Night

“Yes, and he’s perfect.” She plops onto the ground in front of the shower, a dreamy look in her eye that, up until Marcus, I had never really seen. “He’s in Lambda. I don’t know how I’ve never met him; I feel like we end up there like every weekend.”

“Does he live in the house?”

“No, he has an apartment off campus. It was only a block from the Zeta annex, so we walked back there.”

I raise a brow as I grin, pulling the water bottle to my lips. Knowing how things go with them only adds to the joy of seeing my best friend so unabashedly enamored. They’re the real deal, but something tells me I can’t tell her that. Space-time continuum and all that—that’s what it’s called, right?

“So…he was good, then?” I laugh.

“He was incredible… Lambda is having a party tonight, actually—we should go.”

The memory of that night used to be seared into my brain, but the moment she mentions it is the exact second that I completely forget everything that happens. Is that how this is going to go? I know I should remember more than I do. I know I meet Elijah tonight, and the idea of that has me giddy…but I’ll care a bit more later. Right now I’m just trying not to hurl.

“I’m down.” I groan as I stand up from my spot on the floor, reaching for my toothbrush to hopefully rid my mouth of this god-awful taste. “But first, I need food. I haven’t eaten since before we went out last night.”

“Bagels?” Jenna says as she reaches for her own toothbrush.

“Obviously.”

We clean ourselves up minimally, but find ourselves dragging our feet, Jenna’s sweatpants roughly tucked into UGG boots and mine grazing the tops of my slippers as we walk from our dorm building to the student center. We could have gone to a closer dining hall, but the food-court-style setup of the student center hits differently than yet another breakfast platter from Rosie’s.

Let’s be real—Rosie’s is best eaten at 2:00 AM.

We step into the student center, and our noses are instantly filled with the scent of fresh-baked bagels. The line at the chain bagel restaurant is almost out the door, but I persevere in pursuit of a warm everything bagel smothered with cream cheese.

It is almost 1:00 PM, but on a Saturday in college, time is simply a state of mind and it is considered morning in my mind until I eat breakfast.

As we get to the front of the line, I’m disappointed to see that they are fresh out of everything bagels. It’s not an uncommon issue, as it’s one of the more popular offerings, but you would think it would drive them to make more. I opt for a sesame bagel instead, still covered in extra cream cheese.

The service is prompt and we’re quickly handed our boxes. We find seats over by the sprawling floor-to-ceiling windows that look out over the “K.”

The “K” is the not-particularly-creative nickname for Risman Plaza, the area between the student center and the main library on campus. The plaza is made up of a large concrete area with a giant K built into the brick, the Kent State University fountain, and a large grass section where students often lay out blankets in the spring to study for finals. It’s always been one of my favorite areas on campus.

Jenna squeals, causing me to jump in my seat. My gaze darts to her, finding her staring off toward the other side of the food court over by the bookstore. Within seconds I realize why she’s excited as I spot Marcus waiting by the bathrooms.

“Marcus!” Jenna yells, and he turns our way.

FIVE

KAT

Marcus looks our way without hesitation, his warm brown eyes reflecting the sparkle of adoration in Jenna’s. I’ve never known another man who has such unadulterated admiration for a woman he was interested in from the get-go.

He strides confidently toward us, disregarding whoever he had been waiting for in the bathroom. His pace increases and a broad grin spreads across his face, exposing a charming dimple in his left cheek.

“Hey, you.” He winks as he approaches Jenna.

I’ve seen a lot of guys over the years blow girls off the morning after. Not Marcus.

He pulls Jenna into a tight embrace, her head cradled in the crook of his neck. Her hands gently grasp his arms and she looks up at him with a smile that lights up her eyes, her joy mirrored in his expression.

“Marcus Delgado. I’m guessing you’re Kat?” He turns toward me and extends his hand to shake mine, the formality of it all feeling weird.

“Nice to meet you, Marcus—yes, I’m Kat. Um, Katarina Marritt.”

“Great to meet you, Kat,” Marcus says with a wide grin. “Sorry for stealing your roommate last night.” He chuckles as he reaches up to ruffle the hair atop Jenna’s head. Her perfect curls from last night now lay in a tangled mess of a bun.

Unlike Jenna and me, Marcus looks immaculate. How men can wake up after a night of drinking and still look like the picture of health is beyond me. His deep curls are styled perfectly, yet still manage to look effortlessly tousled in a way that screams “I didn’t try too hard, it just comes naturally.”

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