Misunderstandings (Woodfalls Girls 2)

The crashing of our dorm room door against the wall woke me out of a sound sleep Halloween night. I sat up confused, rubbing my knuckles across my eyes so I could fully comprehend the sight in front of me.

“What the hell happened to you?” I asked, taking in the sight of Melissa standing in the doorway with half-inflated balloons covering her from her neck to her ankles. She looked like a cluster of grapes that had been left on the vine too long and had started to shrivel up.

“I met someone,” she squealed, bouncing up and down on my bed, not caring that she was crushing my legs.

“Again?” I asked, tugging at my legs to dislodge them from under her bony butt.

“This one’s not like the others. He’s different,” she said in a dreamy voice as she absently picked at the balloons that covered her body.

“Right,” I answered, swinging my legs off the mattress. Glancing at the clock, I grimaced when I saw the time. “Gahhh, Melissa. It’s two freaking AM. I have a trig exam in the morning,” I complained, heading to the communal bathroom we shared with the room next door. Whoever came up with the brilliant idea that four girls could share a teeny-tiny bathroom must have been smoking crack.

“Oops, sorry. I lost track of time. Rob and I spent hours talking. He’s so smart and funny. He’s some kind of business major, but he writes this poetry that makes your toes curl,” she gushed as she flopped backward on my mattress, popping the few remaining balloons on her back that still had air in them.

“You don’t say,” I mumbled. I was used to her immediate fascination with something that was new and shiny. I closed the bathroom door behind me, but I could still hear her chattering away like I was in the room.

“So, how did you meet this Rob the Poet character?” I asked once I was back in my bed.

“Bobbing for apples. He tied my hands behind my back,” she sighed happily, pulling the balloons off one at a time.

“Honey, I’d watch who I mentioned that to. You know, the whole bondage thing,” I teased, stifling a yawn.

“Ha, that’s so not funny,” she growled, throwing a balloon at me that missed the mark completely as it fluttered harmlessly toward the floor.

“I try. Now shut off the light. I’m exhausted.”

“Fine, party pooper,” she grumbled before plunging the room into darkness.

I fell asleep to the sound of more deflating balloons and Melissa still chattering on about how fantastic Rob was and how she couldn’t wait for me to meet him. She finally quieted down after I chucked a pillow at her, even though I heard her complaining quietly how it would have been easier to take her costume off if she had a little light.

• • •

“Hurry, Brittni, we’re going to be late,” Melissa demanded, hopping impatiently from one foot to the other while I pulled my favorite loosely woven sweater over my head.

“I thought you said it starts at seven,” I replied, adding the final touches to my appearance.

“It does, but Rob wanted us to get there early so we can support his friend. So get your ass in gear.”

“Fine, but need I remind you I’m the one doing you a favor here? Art shows really aren’t my thing.”

“I know, I know. How about you mention it another million times? But you agreed to go so Rob’s best friend in the world isn’t embarrassed if he doesn’t get a good turnout.”

“So, having me there to witness his misery is a perk, how?” I asked, pulling on my coat.

“Bodies are bodies. Anything that looks like people actually showed is better than nothing.”

“If you say so,” I said gloomily, wishing I’d stood firm on my original answer, which had been a resounding no. Melissa had worn me down over the last few days using every resource in her arsenal from begging to outright bribery. Her final last-ditch attempt was to offer to bring me morning coffee every day for the next month. That finally sealed the deal. What can I say? I’m a coffee whore.

“You at least have to act like you’re having fun or you’ll be getting decaf delivered in the morning,” she said as we made our way across campus huddled together. The brisk November wind was making a good effort at cutting through our jackets.

“You wouldn’t dare,” I gasped.

“I would. Now show me a smile.”

I finally let my lips spread into a smile that came off more as a grimace.

“Whoa, slow down, sister. We don’t want to scare them. How about a smile that doesn’t look like someone is pulling off your toenails with pliers?”

“How about this?” I asked, flashing an exaggerated smile that was all teeth.