The List (2 page)

“He's a sophomore here,” Cami continued.

She turned away and started clearing the floor, presumably so I could get through the room. Every time she bent over to pick something up, her dress went so high I was sure I was going to get a shot of her underwear. How did girls walk around in such short clothes? Of course, on me that dress would be obscene.

Cami chattered away while I unpacked. She told me all about her mom and dad and her cousin Ryan, who reminded me a lot of my own brothers. I didn't say much, and Cami didn't seem to notice at first. By the time I had my stuff put away, she was frowning.

“You haven't told me a thing about yourself!”

“Um . . . what do you want to know? I, um . . . I played volleyball in high school. I got enough academic scholarships to cover tuition, so I don't have to work. I have four older brothers. Two are in college, one is at the Air Force Academy. The other is married and lives in Georgia.”

Cami crossed her arms over her chest and frowned. She didn't look satisfied. “Boyfriend?” I shook my head and she pursed her lips. “What do you do for fun?”

“I told you, volleyball.” I squirmed while I tried to figure out exactly what she wanted from me. No matter what I said, her lips got tighter and her eyes more narrowed until they were nothing but tiny slits.

She exhaled and puckered her lips before saying, “What else? I like to go shopping and to the beach, hang out with friends.”

“That sounds like fun.” What did she want me to say?

She was staring at me like I didn't speak English, shaking her head. “Are you shy?” I shrugged again and Cami nodded. “We'll work on that. I plan on having an awesome time in college, and I'm taking you with me. Got it?” She tilted her head and grinned at her plan. Then went back to organizing her things, which were still strewn all over the place.

My stuff was neatly put away, and it suddenly occurred to me how grungy I was. I'd taken the red-eye from California. Spent the whole night either on a plane or scrunched up in airport chairs.

“I think I'm going to take a shower.”

Cami shrugged, but didn't look up from organizing her massive earring collection. “Just be ready in two hours. We're going out.”

My heart jumped and my stomach dropped, but I kept my mouth shut. The idea terrified me, but at the same time I was more than ready to do
something
. For once.

C
ami was already primping when I stepped out of the bathroom. She paused long enough to flash me her movie-star smile before going back to her mascara. “Ryan is going to be here in thirty, so you better hurry.”

My hair was dripping; it was going to take me thirty minutes just to get it dry. “I thought you said we had two hours?” Why was that my only question? Shouldn't I have been asking where she planned on going?

She shrugged and I tried to get a closer look while she expertly curled her eyelashes. How did girls do that without poking themselves in the eye? “He called and said they were going out earlier. They want to catch dinner first.”

I ran a comb through my hair and did my best to calm my pounding heart. It didn't work. “Where are you going?”

Cami giggled as she put a tissue between her burgundy lips and smacked them together. “
We
, and who cares? Anywhere Ryan will take us! It's our first night as college students and I want to have fun!”

She turned the music up on her iPhone and bopped across the room. My heart pounded harder. I wasn't sure if I'd ever really had a day of fun in my life. Not real fun. Not the way other teenagers did.

I got busy blow-drying my hair, trying not to think about the night ahead. Thinking about going out made my stomach twist into knots, but I was determined to go through with it. Whatever it was. I'd chosen a school far away from home so I could experience life, and that was what I was going to do.

When my hair was no longer soaking wet, I turned the blow dryer off. Then I raked my fingers through the strands and pulled it into a ponytail. When I turned around, Cami was staring at me with narrowed eyes.

“You're wearing that?”

I looked down at my jean shorts and t-shirt and pursed my lips. It didn't seem like something a college student would wear when she was going out, but it was all I had. Cami was in a short jean skirt with a red halter top and gold heels that were totally inappropriate for walking around downtown Charleston. She would probably end up breaking her neck.

“I don't have anything else.”

She arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at me and shook her head. “Nothing? No skirts or dresses?” I shrugged. “You have to at least have something nicer than that shirt.”

I looked down at my favorite Air Force Academy t-shirt. My brother Adam had gotten it for me for Christmas the year before. I loved that shirt.

Cami ripped open my wardrobe and let out a huff. “You have six shirts in here!” She thumbed through them, shaking her head the entire time. When she got to the only dress I owned, she huffed and pulled it out. “What is
this
?”

It was white and had short cap sleeves, and it buttoned down the front. “I wore it under my graduation gown last June.” It was the first dress I could remember owning, but I couldn't say those words out loud. Not to Cami.

“This looks like something the eleven-year-old I babysit for would wear. No, scratch that. It looks like something her six-year-old sister or seventy-year-old grandma would wear. You can't wear this.” She tossed it aside and crossed her arms. “Throw that out.”

I wanted to be insulted, but I couldn't be. The dress was just as repulsive to me, but my dad had been so proud of his purchase that I couldn't tell him. And I couldn't explain why I hated it, not even to myself. I just knew instinctively that it was not something an eighteen-year-old would wear. Not that I owned a single piece of clothing I loved for something other than comfort. I'd known girls who had a favorite dress or pair of shoes—things that made them feel sexy or irresistible—but not me. My wardrobe consisted of sensible shorts and yoga pants, t-shirts my brothers would have no problem wearing, and running shoes. Practical things.

Cami was busy digging through her closet. “What size are you?”

I looked down like my legs would somehow know the answer. “Medium?”

She straightened up. “Medium? No way! You have to weigh like one twenty? That shirt is way too big and those shorts are doing nothing for your body.” She shook her head. “I bet you don't wear makeup either.”

“I don't own any.”

She turned her back to me, grumbling like I'd just confessed to killing her cat. “We don't have time to fool with that now. I'd let you use mine, but we aren't exactly the same coloring.”

She wasn't kidding. Her skin was so tan she could probably pass for Hispanic, but mine was snowy white. All of me was, actually. My skin, my hair, my eyebrows and eyelashes. Even my eyes were such a pale shade of brown that they looked almost gold.

Cami tossed something at me before turning back to her closet. “Try that on.”

It was a billowy tank top. The fabric was thin and soft, and there were little blue flowers on it. I'd never owned a piece of clothing with flowers on it. A sudden thrill shot through me at the thought of getting to wear something so pretty. Which was nuts. Since when did I care about clothes?

I turned my back to my roommate and pulled my shirt over my head before slipping the tank on. When I looked in the mirror, a small smile tugged at my lips. It was really pretty, and wearing it I almost felt pretty too. Feminine even.

“Okay, let me see,” Cami said, calling back some of my anxiety.

I turned around to face her, feeling like I was headed to the Spanish Inquisition.

She nodded her approval while pursing her lips at the same time. “Better, but those shorts are still . . .” She had something in her hands, and when she held it up I shook my head and took a step back.

“I can't wear that, Cami!” I said, pointing to the tiny jean skirt in her right hand.

“What's wrong with it?”

“It's too short! It would be inappropriate on me!”

“I wear it!” she argued.

My mouth dropped open and I had the urge to roll my eyes. Was she serious? “Cami, I've got to be six inches taller than you!”

She huffed and tossed the jean skirt on the floor. “I thought you'd say that. Take these,” she said, holding out a pair of white Bermuda shorts. “I usually save them for things like studying or lying around the house, but I guess it would be dressing up for you.”

I couldn't help laughing at her exasperated tone as I dropped my shorts to the ground. Hers were a little big on me, but even I had to admit they looked nicer than the ones I'd been wearing.

“Much better,” Cami said, circling me like a vulture. “We have to go shopping ASAP! Until then . . .” She swooped in with a delicate silver necklace, then went for my ears.

I pushed her hands away. “They're not pierced.”

“What? You're killing me!”

“My dad is very protective.”

That was an understatement, but we had the whole year to get into my dad's neurotic behavior. In the meantime, I was gonna go with the flow and let Cami do her worst. Or best, depending on whom you asked.

My eyes landed on my bare feet and I wiggled my toes. “What about shoes?”

Cami's dark expression brightened and she was instantly distracted from the lack of holes in my body. “What do you have?”

I shrugged again—it was turning into a habit or nervous tic or something. “Running shoes and flip-flops.” I braced myself for her groan, but she was too busy studying the shoes in the bottom of my wardrobe.

“These will have to do. At least they're not those ugly black athletic-looking flip-flops guys wear.” Her face scrunched up in disgust and she dropped my white Old Navy flip-flops in front of me. I fought back a laugh when I pointed to the Nike flip-flops sitting under my bed.

Cami threw her hands in the air. “Did a man dress you?”

This time I couldn't hold back the laugh. It shook my body, but there was a slight edge to it. I swallowed my bitterness and slipped my feet into the flip-flops before saying, “Yes, my dad.”

“Where was your mom in all this?”

My throat tightened and I turned my back to Cami, pretending to study the jewelry strewn across her desk. “She died when I was a baby.”

“Oh shit.” The words came out sounding like a gush of air, and Cami was instantly behind me. Her hands were on my shoulders and I wanted to shrug her off, but I also didn't. It was nice. I'd actually never had a girl friend before. Not that I could remember, anyway. “I'm so sorry, Annie. That sucks.”

I turned to face her. She was chewing on her bottom lip. A couple times she looked like she wanted to say more, but before she could, her phone beeped. She jumped about six inches off the ground. I was sure when she landed she'd fall on her rear end, but she didn't. Somehow she landed on those insane heels as elegantly as if she were a ballet dancer on stage, then darted across the room to her phone.

“Ryan's downstairs!” she squealed, grabbing a tube of lip gloss and swinging around to face me. “I can't do much with your makeup right now, but this will help.”

I took the tube from her and applied a thin layer to my lips. When I was done, I slipped the cap back on and held my arms out at my sides. “Well? Do I pass?”

Cami nodded her approval for a second, then paused. “Take your hair down.”

I never wore my hair down, but she was the expert. So I pulled the ponytail holder out and flipped my head over, running my fingers through the strands before tossing it back. Another thing I'd never done, but I'd seen dozens of girls do it over the years. It seemed like something that would make Cami happy.

And it did. Her face lit up and she nodded excitedly. “Better. Now grab your ID and let's go!”

My cell phone caught my eye when I turned to leave, and I hesitated. My dad would be calling me when he got off work, which should be any time now. I should take it with me, but I didn't want to. For one night I wanted to pretend my life was my own. Before I could change my mind, I grabbed the phone and tucked it under my pillow. Then I ran out the door after Cami.

The elevator moved down and my stomach tightened. I shuffled my feet while Cami ran her fingers through her hair. Neither one of us could stand still, but for two very different reasons. I was nervous as hell, and Cami was so excited she was practically bouncing. She reminded me of the two-year-old who lived next door to us. The way he always ran around on the balls of his feet, bouncing across the yard excitedly. It made me smile, and for some crazy reason that helped me relax.

“Thanks for inviting me,” I said, wanting to cringe when my voice shook.
Get it together, Annie. You are going to have fun and forget about everyone else for a change.

Cami shrugged, but watched me out of the corner of her eye. “You're going to be okay, right?”

“Why?”

“You just look really nervous.”

“I'm not good around new people.”

She smiled and elbowed me, nearly knocking me over. Good thing I wasn't wearing heels. “You'll be fine. Ryan and his friends are awesome.”

The elevator stopped and the door slid open. A group of about six students all turned to face us. Cami ran forward, squealing and jumping like crazy. She threw herself into the arms of the guy at the front of the pack.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she gushed.

He laughed and hugged her back. “Calm down or I'm not taking you anywhere.”

He didn't sound the least bit convincing, and Cami just smiled before turning to face me. “This is my roommate, Annie. You have to be nice to her, Ryan, she's shy.” The grin on Cami's face was evil, but in a nice way—if that makes any sense at all. She winked at me when she elbowed her cousin. “This is my cousin, Ryan Cole.”

Ryan grinned and for the first time in my life I understood what the word
swoon
actually meant. He had that kind of smile. The kind that made my knees weak and my blood pump faster through my veins. It wasn't like he was gorgeous, really—although he was definitely nice to look at—but he oozed charisma. His hair was thick and wavy. Dark blond, but too pretty to be called dirty, and his eyes were gray. When he stepped closer, I noticed a ring of gold around his pupils that was startlingly beautiful.

His eyes swept over me and his smile got bigger, revealing a dimple in his left cheek. “What's up, Buttercup?”

My heart almost stopped beating.

Cami frowned and her face scrunched up while her eyes narrowed on me. “Buttercup?”

Ryan grinned and elbowed his cousin. “Look at her. Doesn't she look like a buttercup? All that blond hair and pale skin.” He shrugged while I squirmed under his—and everyone else's—scrutiny. “Just seemed to fit.”

My face grew warm and I shuffled my feet, sweeping my hair off my face. I wasn't sure what a buttercup was, but it clearly wasn't meant to be an insult. Ryan was grinning from ear to ear, and the word was too sweet and delicate to be mean.

Cami shrugged, and a brunette tapped Ryan on the shoulder, stealing his attention. She was loaded down with makeup and her boobs practically fell out of her top. They looked suspiciously round and perky considering her small frame.

As soon as Ryan's eyes weren't on me, I grabbed Cami's arm. “What's a buttercup?”

Ryan heard and turned to face me. “They're these little yellow flowers that grow in the woods next to our house. Remember that, Cam?”

Her nose wrinkled and she tossed her dark locks over her shoulder. “Aren't they a weed?”

Ryan swallowed, and even though his smile didn't falter, something flashed in his eyes. “Not to me. I used to pick them by the handfuls for my mom. She loved them.”

Cami's eyebrows popped up and she pressed her lips together. For a second neither one said a word, and I looked back and forth between the two of them, trying to figure out what was going on. Ryan stared at the floor and Cami looked really uncomfortable. Then the brunette bombshell—or boobshell was more like it—tapped Ryan on the shoulder again and he snapped out of it. The smile was back, and the second he relaxed Cami did too.