Page 81 of Brazen Criminals

“It looked more like fun to me,” she chortles.

I shake my head, trying to figure out how to explain. Emma is firmly in the camp of you love who you love, and that’s that. If anyone in my life won’t judge me for liking all these guys at once, it’s Emma. I sigh. “It’s not just Jansen,” I say, watching the streets pass by.

“Oh my God, Clara, I need to know everything.”

“I like them all,” I mumble, not quite knowing how to start.

Emma whistles. “This requires alcohol. Remind me again why we don’t have fake IDs?”

“FBI,” I say, pointing at myself.

“My place then. I think the girls are going out tonight, so we should have it all to ourselves.”

I laugh, a manic sort of emotional escape, as we wind through the back streets to Emma’s apartment on the other side of town.

She’s pre-vet, and the barns are on the St. Paul campus. Why are there farm animals on a college campus? I’m operating under the assumption it’s because our state used to be known for farming, but I’ve never really asked anyone.

Emma blasts the music, both of us singing and dancing. She seems to magically know I need a moment to collect my thoughts, to untangle the knot I’ve made of my love life.

As we pull into her apartment complex, she wrinkles her nose. “They’re still here,” she says, motioning to an SUV at the back of the lot.

The lot lights flash on in the half dark. “We’ll be fine,” I say, crawling out of the car.

Hip-hop is blaring from her apartment, pounding through the whole building. She rolls her eyes as she unlocks the door, the sound painful as we walk into the apartment. Emma’s sister Sophie twirls between her girlfriends, a bottle of alcohol passed from one to the next.

“Clara!” Sophie yells over the music, shimmying up to me and handing me the bottle. “It’s been forever! Are you coming out with us?” She forces the bottle into my hand, and I take a small sip.

“Not tonight,” I yell. “Next time?”

Sophie grins, yanking the bottle back. “Got it.”

She sways back to her friends as Emma and I skirt around them, heading to her room. The door between Sophie’s music and us doesn’t dampen the sound nearly enough, so we both flop down on Emma’s bed, tucking our heads under her pillows, like we always used to do, giggling about how dumb this whole situation is.

Two songs later, the music stops, followed by some laughter and the front door slamming. Emma and I both let out a sigh, pulling our heads out from under our pillows. “I can’t believe she still parties like that,” I say.

“Every day she doesn’t work. My sister must have a liver made of steel.”

“Do you think she’ll graduate on time?”

Emma shrugs. “She somehow keeps passing her classes. That girl is magic in all the wrong ways.”

I laugh. We roll out of bed and head out to the kitchen. I grab two cups and fill them with ice while Emma pulls out the rum and Coke. Drinks in hand, we settle into the corners of the couch, Emma poking me with her toes. “You ready to spill? Or do you need more liquid courage?”

I shake my head at her. “I don’t know that more alcohol will make this better.”

She raises a brow at me, waiting.

“Ahh, fine,” I gripe. “I like all my roommates. Like, I really like three of them, have kissed two of them, and I’m pretty sure there is something majorly wrong with me.”

“Oh my God, this is amazing! Who else have you kissed?”

“Walker.”

Emma squeals and I roll my eyes, taking another sip of my drink.

Emma bounces on the couch. “I need to know everything! Like, who did you kiss first, how far did it go, is there like a rank or something? Do the others know? This is so amazing, Clara!”

“This is not amazing. This is terrible,” I mock-yell, setting down my drink to rub my hands over my eyes.

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