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“Love you,” I said, before I hung up and turned to Missy. “What’s wrong?”

“I am so over college boys,” she sighed, collapsing onto her bed. “Seriously, they’re all immature pricks.”

“What happened?” I asked, in amusement.

“Dalton.”

“Oh,” I said. “Him again.”

“Yes,” Missy nodded. “Him again. I finally caved and decided to give him a second chance.”

“I take it he disappointed?”

“More than you know,” she responded, with her standard eye roll. “We went back to his dorm and had sex on his desk; five minutes later, it was all over. I mean, how rude is that?”

“I don’t get it,” I said seriously. “How was that rude?”

“I didn’t even have a chance to reach orgasm,” she complained. “It was all about him.”

“Oh,” I said lamely.

“He zipped up his pants and looked at me all smug, too… Like he had done me a favor,” she continued.

“What did you do?”

“I told him that I could barely feel his penis inside me,” Missy replied, with a wicked smile. “Then I made a dramatic exit.”

I smiled. “You were never one for subtlety.”

“Subtlety is so boring,” she agreed, as her smile relaxed a little.

Sometimes it surprised me that Missy and I had become friends at all. She was the stunning, green-eyed redhead with the outgoing personality and the sharp tongue, and I was the shy, bookish nerd who hid behind glasses and loose clothing.

“So… I take it you and Dalton are definitely done?”

“He doesn’t deserve me,” Missy said, with finality. “Whatever… I have other fish to fry.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning there’s this hottie who sits in front of me in Spanish class – and he looks like he knows his way around a woman’s body.”

“This is based on…”

“My keen intuition,” she replied.

“Funny that your keen intuition let you down with Dalton,” I pointed out.

She rolled her eyes at me. “Sometimes it’s really annoying to have a smartass for a best friend.”

I laughed. “Forgive me for pointing this out, but shouldn’t you be in class to, oh, I don’t know…actually learn something?”

Missy shook her head at me. “You are so disappointing, Nat.”

I adjusted my glasses and pretended to look hurt. “You wound me.”

“Can I ask you a serious question?” she asked, looking me straight in the eye.

“Um, no thanks?”



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