Begin Again (Again #1)(6)

“How about this,” I suggested, hanging my arm over Dawn’s shoulders.

She peeked through her fingers; her hazelnut-brown eyes twinkled. “I’m listening.”

“Just come over to my place if you have problems with your roommate. It’s probably not the optimal solution—you know the rules my roommate set,” I said, making a face, and Dawn snorted with contempt. I’d told her all about my visit, and of course I didn’t spare any details. She found Kaden’s rules just as stupid as I did. “But we can hole up in my room. At least until the storm has passed.”

By now we’d arrived in the department for candles and picture frames. Without thinking I reached for two huge candles that wafted vanilla and coconut. Another thing we’d never had back home. My Mom thought they smelled cheap. But I found the scent heavenly and was already looking forward to the cozy haven that I would create in my room.

“You’re too good, Allie Harper,” Dawn said. She slapped my shoulder and looked me in the eyes. “Thanks.”

I flushed and looked away. No one had ever said anything like that to me. I’ve always been just the super-bitch. The nasty rich girl from next door. The slut. So I didn’t know how to deal with kind words.

Dawn frowned. She seemed to sense my discomfort and changed the subject. “Wanna check out the things up there? They look nice,” she said, pointing to a high shelf with white, ornately designed picture frames. Standing on tiptoes, I managed reach the top shelf.

“Those are cute,” I said, my mind still elsewhere. “But I don’t have any pictures to put in it.”

It had slipped out. Even I could hear how pathetic it sounded. God, hopefully Dawn wouldn’t write me off now as a total loser. After all, it’d been my decision to leave everything behind. The pain I carried inside was heavy enough; I certainly didn’t need photos to remind me of my old life.

“What a bunch of crap. Then we’ll make one ourselves,” Dawn said, grabbing her phone. She stood in front of me so I had to look over her shoulder, and aimed the camera at us.

“Here? Now?” My voice was an octave higher than usual. People walked past, and I felt their eyes on us.

“Yeah, why not?” Dawn replied unconcerned, and smiled broadly at the camera. “And now: Say sexyyy!”

I grinned uncomfortably. My green-gray eyes looked gloomy on the phone screen.

“Screw them!” Dawn jabbed her elbow into my ribs, as other customers stared our way. “Now, say it out loud so everyone in the store can hear it: sexyyy! Come on, Allie!”

It seemed I had no choice. Shaking my head, I grinned and shouted: “SEXYYY!”

And this time the smile was real.

The picture frame was the first decoration that I placed in the room. On the way back, we’d stopped at CVS to print out the photo, and now Dawn and I were smiling down from the windowsill in my room.

Dawn had done the same: Our Target selfie would hang in her room, too. It felt like today we’d laid the foundation for a wonderful friendship.

Dawn made me feel like there really was such a thing. Friendship for its own sake, and not for the sake of getting something from the other person. Without pressure to always do better than the other.

I was proud of us. We’d bought shelves and a big dresser, which fit perfectly behind the door. Since I’d forgotten to measure the room, it was pure luck. We’d already finished assembling the dresser and the second set of white shelves. Now all I needed was to assemble the sofa bed, which looked more complicated. There seemed to be some holes missing underneath, and some of the components didn’t fit in the pullout bedframe. One was longer than the other, which must’ve been a defect. I should have returned it right away, but I didn’t feel like dragging the thing down two stories and driving all the way back to Portland. On top of that, neither Dawn nor I had tools, and without a drill we’d never be able to finish it.

Frustrated, I sank to the floor.

“I’m probably going to have to sleep on this,” I moped, pulling the rolled-up rug to my lap and stroking its soft, bright fake-fur as if it were a pet. Preferably a cat.

“Stop it! We’ll figure this one out,” she growled, kind of reminding me of a Chihuahua. I had to giggle.

Just then I heard the apartment door slam and muffled voices drifting toward us from the hallway. Oh great, the jerk was home.

Dawn’s eyes opened wide. “Should we ask him if he has a drill?” She’d sat up so quickly that she now looked like a meerkat. I giggled again.

“You just want to check him out.”

“And what if I do?” she admitted and practically floated to her feet. She brushed off her shirt, which was covered with wood shavings, and reached back to check her hair, which was twisted into a messy bun. “How do I look?” she asked, giving a little spin.

“I think we both look like we need a shower,” I replied, standing up, as well.

We moved to the door and listened for a second. The other voice was also a man’s. So Kaden wasn’t about to get things on with some woman.

“Do you think it’s a violation of the rules to ask him for a drill?” I whispered, as if they could have heard us.

“Jeez! Don’t let that douche intimidate you like that,” Dawn retorted, stepping back from the door.

I tugged at the hem of my shirt and mulled it over: Of course I didn’t want to be intimidated, but this room was important to me. I didn’t want to get on Kaden’s nerves—especially not on my first day as his roommate.