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“Hey,” Jolie chirps, walking to her bed and throwing her phone down.

She seems in a better mood this evening.

I think. She can be a little temperamental.

Not in an “I think she’s about to lose her shit” kind of way, more that I just never know if she’s up or down.

Sometimes she’s warm and friendly, smiling at me, like right now.

And other days I catch her looking all glum and barely responding to my questions.

I study her for a second before saying anything, making sure I’m reading her right. “How are ya?”

“Good.” She bobs her head and starts stripping off her jacket and boots. A second later, she opens her closet and pulls out a cute dress.

“You going out?”

“Yep.” She nods, flashing me a smile that’s accompanied by a blush that is too adorable.

I grin back at her. “On a date?”

Her shoulder hitches.

“You’re totally going on a date,” I tease her.

She stills, biting her lip and staring down at the dress she’s holding. Glancing at me, she wrinkles her nose, then shoves the dress back into her closet, reaching for a pair of yoga pants instead.

My eyebrows wrinkle into a frown. “So… not a date?”

“No.” She purses her lips to the side. “I mean…” Glancing at me, she blushes again, then bites her lip. “Not really. It’s…” She sighs, dipping her shoulders and starting to shut down on me again.

I cling to our last scrap of this conversation. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She shakes her head.

Shit. I thought moving in with a roommate was going to be epic, like it was with Hayley and me, but it’s totally sucking.

“Well…” I hold in my sigh. “Whoever he—or she—is, I hope you have a good time with them.”

She blinks and looks at me like I’ve just found out her biggest, darkest secret. Her cheeks go pale for a second, and I brace myself for her response.

But then she giggles and shakes her head.

“It’s a he, and I’m sorry I’m being so cryptic.

It’s just…” She winces. “I really like him, like a lot . But I don’t know where he stands, and I’m going for yoga pants”—she starts wrestling them on—“because I’m worried the dress is sending the wrong message.

I mean, it’s one of those—” She bites her lips, her expression wrinkling.

“Um… like a tutoring situation, and I’m sort of falling, and I don’t know if he’s falling or just being nice to me, and I’m trying to read these, like, unspoken messages and am starting to think I’m total shit at it.

But I have to take this chance, you know?

I’m losing my mind here, so I’m just gonna go over there and…

I’m just gonna make him tell me where he stands on the whole liking me/helping me out thing. ”

It takes me a second to process her high-speed spiel, but I think I get it. I nod while she does the yoga pants jiggle, making sure the Lycra is snug around her butt.

“What’s he tutoring you in?”

“Nothing.” Her answer comes short and sharp, so obviously soaked in embarrassment. She gazes at her reflection in the mirror, her eyes quickly darting to mine, before she pulls off the yoga pants and reaches for some baggy sweats instead.

I have no idea what she’s thinking. The yoga pants looked super sexy on her slender legs, and now she’s hiding them under a pair of sweats that look like they belong to her brother. If she has a brother.

Maybe I should ask her about her family. That’ll get the conversation onto safer turf, right? Or maybe not.

She’s avoiding my gaze at all costs right now, so maybe I’m better off just shutting my mouth.

Pulling on an oversized sweater, she checks her appearance one more time, then nods and grabs her phone.

I catch her eye when she spins back to face me, her cheeks splashing pink once more.

“Good luck.” I smile at her. “Hope he’s honest with you.”

“Me too,” she squeaks, shoving her feet into her pink Skechers and heading for the door.

Pausing, she gives me one more awkward smile, then murmurs, “I promise I’m not a crazy person.

I know I’ve been acting weird lately. I’m just going through a bit of a thing right now, and I’m…

” She holds her breath, her eyes getting kind of big and scared for a second.

“It’s okay.” I smile up at her. “I promise I’m a nice person, so if you ever need a friend”—I point to myself—“I make a really good one.”

Her smile grows, her teeth brushing over her lower lip. “Thanks, Nylah. Hope you gave a good night.”

“Hope we both have good nights.” I wiggle my eyebrows at her, and she giggles, letting out this excited little whimper before leaving.

The door clicks shut behind her and I shake my head, still completely mystified but also highly intrigued.

Man, I have so many questions. I wonder what she’s going through.

I wonder if she’ll ever tell me. I really want to know who this tutor of hers is.

I’m desperate to know what subject she’s failing in, and I’m even more desperate to find out how it goes for her tonight.

She’s obviously a bit of a private person, but if I keep being nice to her, she’ll open up, right? We just had a halfway decent conversation tonight, so there’s hope.

Adjusting my position on the bed, I gaze across the room at her wall of photos and try to figure out what I’m going to do while I wait for her to get back.

I should probably replenish my candy stash in case things go badly for her.

I can feed her chocolate while she blubbers about not being on the same page as Mystery Man.

Or maybe it’ll go great, and she’ll give me all the swoony, heart-melting details while we sit on her bed, giggling and high on sugar.

My lips toy with a smile as I imagine how it will play out… unless things go, like, really well and she doesn’t even come back to the dorm tonight. Am I seriously just going to lie around here waiting for her?

That’s bullshit, Nylah, and you know it.

With a huff, I check my phone again. Still nothing from Hayley. Dammit.

I can’t just stay here on my bed, procrastinating on homework and dodging memories of the worst night of my life.

Get your ass up and go out, girl. Don’t you feel sorry for yourself. I won’t have it.

Grandma’s voice rings in my head, and she’s so right.

I didn’t fight to get out of home and live the college experience only to stay locked up in my dorm room.

What else am I gonna do with my time? Watch a movie?

That will only make me think about a guy with messy blond hair and an inability to say goodbye.

I can’t waste any more thought or angst on Carson McAvoy. There is an entire university full of interesting people out there for me to meet.

It’s a Tuesday night. Surely something is happening on campus.

I haven’t been to Offside yet. People talk about that sports bar all the time. They let college students in; I just can’t buy alcoholic drinks. No big deal. I’ve been waiting for someone to go with, but I could be waiting all year at this rate.

“Ass off the bed, Jones. You can do this.” I give myself a standard pep talk, checking my reflection in the mirror before grabbing my denim jacket and heading out the door.

My leg is a little achy, so I order an Uber, my insides starting to tremble and flail the closer we get to the bar.

Man, I used to be the most confident girl in the room. I wasn’t afraid of anything. I was friends with my entire senior class. I never missed a party.

But a year stuck in recovery stole so much of who I used to be.

And it’s about time I find myself again.

Fisting my fingers, I stare out the window and prep myself for a good night. It’s all about how you approach things, right?

Tonight is going to be awesome.

I’ve just made the decision that it will be.

And I won’t let these doubts festering in my belly stop me.