Page 6 of Backstroke

Rowyn nods in agreement. “Smart move. It’s always a madhouse on move-in day. Need any help?” The question swirls around in my mind for a moment.

I hesitate, then nod. “Sure, that would be great. Thanks.”

As we start sorting through my things, the conversation flows easily. Rowyn and Lyndsy chat about their hometowns, their majors and their excitement for the upcoming semester. Despite my initial reluctance, I find myself warming up to them. Maybe having roommates won’t be so bad after all.

“So, what’s your major?” Lyndsy asks, as she helps me hang up some clothes.

“Psychology,” I reply, feeling a sense of pride. “I’ve always been fascinated by what makes people tick.”

Rowyn’s eyes light up. “No way! That’s my major too! We’re going to have so much to talk about,” she squeals, jumping up and down.

Lyndsy laughs. “Looks like you two are going to be study buddies. I’m majoring in business, so I guess I’ll be the odd one out,” she sighs, as her expression turns into a frown.

“Is business not what you want to study?” I ask hesitantly.

She chews on her lip, then shakes her head. “I’m expected to take over the family business one day. Lucky me.” I nod, but get back to work. I don’t really have a response to that.

As we continue unpacking, I realize that maybe, just maybe, I can balance my studies with a bit of socializing. These girls seem nice and it might be good to finally have some friends to lean on during the tough times.

“Hey, do you want to come to a party with us tonight?”How the hell have they already scoped out a party happening tonight?

“I’m not really into parties. Maybe next time.”

“No! You have to come. It’s supposed to be huge, plus it can be roommate bonding time.” Lyndsy nods in agreement.

“Come on, Fallon, classes don’t start until next week.” I let out a sigh, knowing I need to make friends with these girls since I don’t know anyone else here, but I’m not particularly the social type.

“Fine. Come get me when it’s time to go.” Both of them jump in excitement and start talking a mile a minute about what to wear. Of course, my antisocial ass would be paired with social butterflies. The girls head to their bedrooms while I’m left wondering why the hell I agreed.

Picking up my phone, I put on some music to drown out the nerves. I never went to parties in high school because I was consumed with my studies, so this will be my first dive into college life.

‘Sleep Token’blares through my speakers as I spend the next couple of hours putting the finishing touches on my room.

The sun is setting when I hear a knock on my door. Rowyn peeks her head in, then opens the door fully.

“Wow, you got more done than we did,” she chuckles, looking around. She’s since changed from her jeans to a short black skirt and strappy heels.

“Yeah. I wanted to get everything settled. I hate living out of a suitcase,” I reply.

“Same. I did get my clothes put up, but not much else.” Lyndsy walks in, wearing a tight green dress that accentuates her curves. I definitely don’t have anything like that in my closet.

“I love the dress, Lyndsy,” I mention before I pick up my phone to lower the music.

“Oh, you don’t have to be so formal. I usually go by Lynds, and thank you. What are you wearing tonight?” I look down at my cutoff Jean shorts and black band shirt, knowing this outfit probably won’t fly with them.

“Haven’t thought about it,” I shrug, doing a mental check of everything I brought with me.

“I have just the thing.” Before I can protest, she’s out of the door, leaving Rowyn smiling.

“She loves dressing up, using any occasion to wear heels.” I wring my hands together, feeling uncomfortable all of a sudden. I’ve never been a girly girl. My wardrobe consists mainly of T-shirts, shorts and leggings. I guess I skipped that stage and went straight to fishnets and combat boots.

“I didn’t really bring anything for parties,” I confess, as I sift through my closet.

“That’s what I’m here for,” Lyndsy chimes in behind me. She’s holding a little black dress in one hand and heels in the other. The last time I wore a dress was to my grandmother’s funeral. She must see the expression on my face, because she backtracks her statement.

“You don’t have to wear it if you’re not comfortable,” she says gently. “But I think you’d look amazing in it. Just give it a try?”

I hesitate, then nod slowly. “Alright, I’ll give it a shot.”

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