Campbell’s look passes over me to Red, shooting her own play-along-and-give-the-guy-a-break look, and I see Vivian ease up out of the corner of my eye. That’s all the green light that I need. “Um, yeah, Jen, are you missing a black heel?”

Her lips purse, she hooks her hands around the shoulder straps of her backpack, and taps her fingers on the cloth. It might just kill her that I was the one who found her shoe, and now I want to tell her just for the satisfaction of seeing her swallow down a little bit of that self-righteous shit she so freely dishes out.

I pack away the douche bag comments and smirk that I so desperately want to give her, and go with the advice and opportunity that Campbell is offering. “Yeah, um, I dropped my keys and accidentally kicked them under the couch. When I looked under it to get them, I saw a shoe. Campbell said you were looking for it. I’m glad it turned up; she said they are your favorites.”

I don’t give her a chance to respond; watching her nostrils flare is enough vindication for me. I move past them all, giving Vivian a smile as I pass. Once I safely make it into the hallway, I turn around, and as politely as possible, thank Campbell for having me over.

“It was great to meet you; you’re definitely not what I expected. Don’t forget about the concert next weekend, I’ll drop off details when I have them,” Campbell says with a smile, triumph written all over her face. Jen, on the other hand, hasn’t thawed, but I’m hoping that I at least made a dent in the ice queen.

“Thanks, Cam, I would appreciate that. Let me know if you need any help spreading the word. I can hang flyers or something.” Yeah, the last bit would be a pain in the ass, but when I see Red smile, I would sign up to hang a thousand posters, or wear one of the stupid fucking flashboards on the main street just to have her smile at me again.

She nods and begins to close the door. Once I hear the lock click, I let out the air I was holding in and relax into the door, resting my forehead on the cool wooden veneer. I take a second to collect myself before heading to my room. I’m going to ditch the rest of my classes for the day and figure out a way to get into Vivian’s good graces. Hopefully, Will gets home soon so I can drill him on all things Vivian. I need to get into the female mind and figure out what girls want.

Vivian

I was a little pissed at first when Campbell let Brooks ruin our little roommate bet. But after experiencing the new Brooks this week, I now consider it a small price to pay for his dedouchefication. This entire week he has done things to be helpful and has shown me that he can care about something other than getting laid. Will even told me that he hasn’t been out drinking or on a date since he had his Campbell intervention.

I don’t know what she did or said, but the results have been impressive. A few different days this week, when I got back from class, there were poems or different kinds of red flowers either taped to our white board, or stuck in our mailbox in the commons area. He and Will hung up and passed out flyers for Campbell’s concert. He even helped Carly study for her algebra test–the guy freaking knows math. I, however, have to use a calculator to figure out a twenty percent tip on a ten-dollar ticket. He has been a completely different person; the problem is, I don’t know which version is the one I should believe in. This change in him, though, actually has me excited to spend a little time with him tonight at the concert. The overabundance of pretty girls in one place will be a true test of whether this transformation is only skin deep or not.

I frantically look at the time on my phone and then shove my style guide and notebook into my backpack. When I see how late I am for class, I let out a long groan and grab my keys. Jen took over the bathroom this morning, so I look a little less than stellar today. I just love being late for class, especially when I have to walk in with yoga pants, a sweatshirt, and my hair in a ponytail. At least after a half-hour of pounding on the bathroom door, I was finally able to get in long enough to brush my teeth.

I consider her one of my closest friends, but you can certainly tell that she has lived a spoiled, privileged life, one that didn’t require her to think of mundane things like picking up after yourself or sharing a bathroom. Our parents knew each other when we were little, but her father moved onto bigger and better things, starting with being elected into the state Senate. The result: she is fiercely loyal and a great friend, but she could use some help in the roommate department.

I rush through the door, throwing my bag over my shoulder when I notice Brooks leaning on the cinder block wall in between our doors. “I was starting to wonder if you were going to ditch class today,” he says, pushing off the wall and reaching for the straps of my bag. I allow him to take it off, and we both head toward the elevator. “Jen hogged the bathroom this morning. You didn’t have to wait for me,” I tell him, unable to hide my surprise that he didn’t take off without me.

He laughs and pushes the button for the lobby. “I know I didn’t have to wait for you; I wanted to. We have walked together every day this week, why would I ditch you today? I was going to give you a few more minutes, then I was going to come knocking. I was just hoping that you didn’t leave early.”

I pull my eyebrows together, offended that he would think I would stand someone up. “I wouldn’t do that,” I say, reaching to take my backpack back. He swings it away from me, not allowing me to have it.

“I didn’t say that I thought you would; I just hoped that I didn’t miss my chance to walk with you.”

I cool down, letting the last part of his statement sink in. “Sorry,” I mutter, leaning against the back wall, waiting for the doors to open. I close my eyes and allow my nose to enjoy the intoxicating scent of his cologne. It’s a mixture of sandalwood and apples; you can’t help but want to get close and smell him, but I’m pretty sure that would be frowned upon in most social settings.

“It’s okay; I get it. You think that is something I would do, and you don’t want to be put in the same category. I don’t blame you; I haven’t exactly shown you otherwise.” He then turns away from me and looks up at the lights indicating the descending floors. Dammit, that is precisely what I thought, but hearing it out loud makes me feel like the biggest bitch imaginable. I don’t have anything to say that would help me to regurgitate my foot, and I see no point in trying to lie to him just to make him feel better. So when the doors open, I do the only thing that I think will help; I bump his shoulder with mine, propelling him slightly forward, and when he looks at me for an explanation, I smile and jerk my head in the direction of our lecture building. When he smirks and moves out of the elevator, I know that I’ve been forgiven.

By the time we reach the courtyard outside of our dorms, we have less than ten minutes to get to our class that is a fifteen-minute walk away. We start with a speed walk, but our pace soon turns into an all-out run to get there on time. I suddenly don’t feel so bad about the yoga pants and sneakers. I consider myself in relatively decent shape, but when we reach the lecture hall entrance, I am sucking in air. My ribs feel like there are ninjas combating the forces of evil with swords on them, and my lungs refuse to adequately take in oxygen. I lean down, resting my hands on my knees and try to catch my breath. I look up at Brooks, whose appearance is pristine. There are no signs of fatigue, lack of breath…his damn collared-shirt isn’t even wrinkled, the bastard.

He grabs my arms and gently pulls me down the hall, encouraging my feet to continue moving, even though they feel like they have been dried in cement. We make it to the lecture hall with a minute to spare, and I finally pull myself together enough so that I can at least sneak into the back of the room and hide behind my notebook for most of the hour.