Page 14 of Come As You Are

At least someone in the universe is on my side.

Still, a whole three more years of this sounds like a nightmare.

“What’s the face? Are you not a fan of frittatas?” Salem pronounces the word in the absolute most annoying way possible, with extra emphasis on everytand a few he definitely made up.

“I’m surprised you’re deigning to eat with me again today,” I say before smiling at the server and receiving my eggs with hash browns on the side. “Really, don’t feel the need to take pity on me. In fact, perhaps now would be the right time for you to discover the lost ‘good boy’ art of eating alone.”

“No can do,” he says ruefully as he gets a plate filled with way more food than could possibly fit in his string bean of a body. “See, my roommate keeps trying to take me under his wing, and he happens to be in this lunch period. So unless I want him trying to sit me with a table full of jock bros, I need a diversion.”

“Jock bros?”

He rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

I do, but more than that, I don’t have anyone else to sit with. Sabrina and Heather don’t have lunch this period either, and the only person I recognize thus far is Kayla Alton, who’s wearing headphones while she works on something, clearly not looking to mingle.

And so, it is with a heavy sigh that I follow half a step behind Salem to get drinks and then snag an empty table, where I slide my tray down next to his.

It doesn’t go unnoticed. “What’s with you?” He reaches into his bag and pulls out a sandwich, ignoring the huge heap of eggs and hash browns on his plate. “I feel like you’re usually… bouncier.”

“Again, you’re thinking of my hair,” I tell him, digging into my lunch. I’m not sure I’ve ever actually had a frittata, but it basically just looks like a fluffy egg pie, and that cannot possibly be bad. If I were at GHS right now, I’d probably be poking at a soggy slice of pizza or a mound of beef stew that resembled neither beef nor stew.

Camden’s menu is a clear upgrade, but for the briefest of moments my heart aches anyway, because I’d also be feeling Craig’s ankle hooked around mine, and hearing Claire quiz herself with her trademark flash cards between bites of a bagel with cream cheese and cucumber cut into fourths.

Well, once upon a time I would have, anyway.

I watch as he takes a bite of the sandwich, which looks to be peanut butter and jelly on whole wheat. “You brought your own sandwich to lunch?”

He shrugs. “So?”

“You…” I gesture at his egg mountain. “What was the point of—”

“Hey, roomie.” Before I can finish my sentence, a huge hand claps Salem’s shoulder so hard he almost coughs out his sandwich. “Mind if I join you?” Matt doesn’t wait for an answer before taking a seat. “And Evie! I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

The innuendo in his tone has me nearly choking on a piece of fried potato. “So much,” I say, my eyes watering as I take a sip of water. “Salem and I were about to bang on this table.”

“She wishes.”

“Hey, I told you,” says Matt, grabbing Salem’s fork and helping himself to the hash browns he’s clearly not eating. “If you’ve got a lady—or anyone else; you do you—in the room, just hang a sock on the door.”

“I did that. Last night. You came in anyway.”

“Yeah, but I covered my eyes, didn’t I?”

I narrow my eyes at Salem. “Youhad a girl in your room last night?” For a brief moment, I have to wonder what it could possibly look like for Salem to lay on the charm enough to convince a girl to hook up with him, and I simply cannot. She’d have to be the typeveryeasily seduced by a bit of swagger and a pair of gorgeous eyes. Not thatIhave thoughts about Salem’s eyes; I’m just saying—

“No, I just wanted the place to myself.” He swallows the last bite of his sandwich and stands up. “Well, this has been real, but I gotta go be not here.” He slings his messenger bagover his shoulder and starts to stand, but Matt pushes him back down.

“You’re being rude to the lady.”

I nod. “Your roommate is not the friendliest, I’m finding.”

“Eh, he’ll warm up,” Matt says confidently. “You gonna come cheer for him on Thursday night?”

“I haven’t made a single plan for this week further than attending the club fair after classes today.” I glance at Salem, who seems to be trying to laser-beam an exit portal into the tabletop using the power of his stare. “What’s Thursday night?”

“Nothing,” he mutters.

“And I thoughtIwas a bad liar.” I take a noisy sip of my fountain Coke and turn to Matt. “What’s Thursday night?”

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