Chapter Two

Tonight was an important night, and Taryn didn't want to blow it. Her skin tingled in anticipation, her stomach jittery with nerves. After Spanish class, the ruiner of her existence, let out for the day, her thoughts turned to the night ahead. The marvel was that she actually had plans, which meant she had a social life again. Her.

After a month at Hillspoint, Taryn had slowly started to establish a circle of friends she actually liked. Caz had introduced her around, coming in clutch to make those connections happen. Those people had introduced her to a few others, and now her existence at Hillspoint was dotted with Hey, Taryns, which felt better than she could have imagined. She lit up after a good Hey, Taryn and felt more and more comfortable as the days pressed on. She was finding her social footing and allowing herself to embrace it. But she'd been on campus for close to five weeks before she scored an invite to an actual college party, leaving her eager, underprepared, and questioning her social skills. Never helpful. Having hidden away her first and second years, she'd missed out on what the actual party experience was like. Her indoctrination would happen in just six short hours, and now that it was upon her, she wasn't so sure she wanted to go.

"This is the problem. I suck at small talk," Taryn told Caz and their next-door neighbor Sasha, who had the prettiest chestnut hair and held the firm belief that if people ate more ice cream, most everything would be sweeter, if not colder.

"No, you don't. I can vouch for your conversational prowess," Sasha said, lying on her back in the middle of their couch. She tended to make herself at home, which was actually a relief. No need to host Sasha, ever.

Taryn held up a finger. "Let me rephrase. I hate small talk. It takes work, and I run out of polite things to say after ten minutes—and then, dead air."

"No one small-talks at these things. You can barely hear." Caz turned around in her desk chair. "And also? Get out of your head and get into mine because I think you're awesome and would kiss your face off if we weren't so platonic it hurts."

Caz, she'd learned, was the kind of friend who pumped you up when you needed it most. "Oh, well in that case I'm flattered and would top you in a second." She offered a playful wink and Caz winked back. Friendship rhythm was intact and thriving.

"What are we going to wear, though?" Caz pondered, strolling to her closet door on a perplexing mission. "I never like to choose too early because moods are like the weather, ever-changing, but now we're sorely pushing it. The clock is not our friend. We need to be sexy."

Taryn chewed her lip, attempting to assemble the meaning. "Just in general, or…"

"For the events of this evening, kind madam." The party at Tau Kappa Epsilon was saints and sinners themed, which left a lot to interpretation. "We need to impress, stand out, show off our tits." She emphasized by pushing hers forward.

Taryn held up a finger. "Hmm. No. Not planning on that last part. Mine are shy. We shouldn't ask much of them."

"Well, tonight's their debut." Caz shut the closet door, clearly deciding nothing inside would do, and stalked back into the living room. "These parties are always half-naked parties. It's the collegiate way."

"That's why I love them," Sasha sighed.

Taryn squinted. "But should it be? Really?" Taryn wasn't sure she was ready to put it all out there, college party or not. Yes, there would likely be hot girls there to get to know, but her dignity did have a say.

"I don't know why you're worried about it. If I had your body, I'd be naked right now," Sasha said. "I'm thinking of wearing my hair up to show off my neck. I'm told it's stunning."

Taryn didn't hesitate. "And it is. You have a killer neck. No question."

"Sure, agreed about the neck, but we need to focus," Caz said. She'd suddenly turned loud, which Taryn understood was Caz's way. Her volume fluctuated with any slight shift of topic or emotion.

"I'm listening," Taryn said.

"The shouting is a choice," Sasha said. "Try nonchalance, like me." She ran a finger down her neck, still preoccupied with it.

"Idea forthcoming."

"Hit me," Taryn said.

Caz offered a nod and stepped forward. "There's a vintage store on Fourth. We can score cheap—and hopefully downright sexy—outfits. I'm willing to give up my parking space and drive, which we can all admit is a mighty sacrifice for the success of our merry band. Are you in?"

"I've got nothing better to do," Sasha said.

Taryn laughed. "How can I say no to such a huge parking gesture?"

Caz went very serious. "I thought you'd see it that way."

The vintage shop, aptly named Witches of Wayback, was crowded with so many miscellaneous objects that it was difficult to shop in any effective manner. The two-room space overflowed with circular clothing racks and shelves up to the ceiling crowded with pots and pans, cookie jars, old telephones, and knickknacks of many enviable shapes and sizes. In the center of the room, several mannequins seemed to be conducting a meeting in their 1920s finery, one wearing a witch's hat. That was all well and good, but Taryn was quickly seduced to the real show a few feet to the right in a lonely corner. The unremarkable gray shelf sang to her like a siren.

"Oh wow," she murmured, moving to the display of used cameras sitting together in a jumble of straps and lenses. "Well, look at you." Taryn picked up an older Nikon model and fiddled with the focus ring. Caz was lost in corsets and leather, and Sasha was holding a conversation with a blow-up Snoopy doll, giving Taryn space to explore her find.

"I could totally work with these kitten ears," Caz said absently. "Ever have sex in kitten ears?"

"Can't say I have," Taryn called back.

"Missing out. Oh! And the purple fur matches the lining of this corset. They need to be together. They're going to be. Mine, mine, mine."

"Matchmaking like a pro over there," Taryn said absently, clicking the shutter and resetting. She might have just fallen in love.

While Caz whipped through hangers in the sexy section, Taryn explored a couple more of the truly impressive-looking cameras, but none really compared to that first Nikon. She'd begun to find her footing in her photography courses, sinking deeper and deeper into the art and technique. She'd taught herself about shadow and contrast, using the light to create a mood, but before coming to Hillspoint, she'd always just used the camera on her phone. Now that she was learning her craft more formally, she'd considered purchasing a camera, which would free her up from renting from the department, but the newer models were out of her price range. She checked the tags on a few of these older guys and was shocked at how affordable they were. Why hadn't she considered going used before?

"Tare. This would look unbelievable on you. Your boobs would act as the Bat-Signal to all females in the vicinity. Lesbian achievement level unlocked." Caz held up a white vest and pants set as if she'd just made the sapphic discovery of the decade. "No one will breathe if you wear this."

Taryn raised a brow. "Um, maybe I should start with fewer females. Plus, I don't have a shirt that would work underneath."

"A shirt? Who needs a shirt?"

Taryn blinked. "This is a scandal in the making."

"I vote yes." Sasha whirled around and landed next to Caz. "That's for Taryn, right? That has to be for Taryn, her flawless skin and boobs."

"See?" Caz said, turning back to her. "We're buying it. It's all white. You're the saint. I'm the feline sinner. We're perfection in our representation of room 412."

"Are we sure about this?" Taryn asked.

"Yes," the two of them said in unison.

Deciding to trust just her friends' instincts about these things, she exhaled and closed her eyes, ignoring the fear, longing to be Taryn the Brave for once. "How can I argue with that?" She also decided to trust her own instincts and scooped up the old Nikon she couldn't stop admiring. Of course, she'd have to score some film but didn't mind the extra step. "I'm gonna grab this, too."

Caz eyed the camera. "Are you a hipster in disguise?"

Taryn paused genuinely. "I'm not sure. But, um, I told you I was interested in photography, remember. I love the courses I'm taking, and I'm going to declare it officially."

"Dude, I'm starting to really like you." Caz batted her colorfully made up eyes. "Let's all get iced coffees and be introspective."

Taryn laughed. "Lead the way."

Four hours later, long after the sun had dipped behind the horizon and early evening melted into night, Taryn followed Sasha and Caz and several of their friends across the lawn to a large two-story house with the letters TKE above the door. She could already feel the loud music pulse beneath her feet as they approached the scene that could only be described as brash and chaotic. One guy hung out of the second-story window yelling what sounded like rhyming poetry. Two girls were huddled on the sidewalk in front having some sort of dramatic conversation with hands on hips. A couple made out up against the brick pillar of the house, and another guy swung shirtless from a tree branch as a group below cheered him on. Most everyone was holding a red Solo cup, which Taryn had always kind of assumed was a college party cliché, but evidently wasn't.

"Hot," a dude said in her ear as he passed her in the doorway.

She looked down at her vest, which showed off way more skin than she was used to. Thank God her boobs weren't huge or she never could have pulled off the look. "Thank you." Was that what one should say? Maybe she should have just nodded instead. She'd workshop it.

Before she knew it, Caz appeared at her elbow with a red cup containing something purple and mysterious. Taryn raised a skeptical eyebrow. "What is this, and was it in your possession at all times?"

"Trash can punch. Harmless. And yes." Caz sipped from her own cup and nodded happily at the results. "Okay, that's good. Really easy. You'll love it."

Taryn took a hesitant sip but was surprised by the sweet, near Kool-Aid-like taste. She hadn't been a huge drinker up until this point, so sipping would be the name of the game. She'd turned twenty-one in March, so the idea of drinking without looking over her shoulder was still a satisfying and new experience. Once they got settled in, she took a more generous swallow and caught the beat of the music. Now that combo was nice. She tossed in a very subtle head bop and caught the eye of a girl across the room who joined her, sending a sexy smile her way. This place was a vibe, and she felt herself starting to relax and enjoy the party.

"Like, where are you from?" a random guy in the kitchen asked her twenty minutes later when she went to refresh her drink. He was shirtless and wore a beauty pageant sash that said Mr. Sinner along with a backward black baseball cap.

"Oh, um. Dyer. Ever been?"

His eyes went wide and he slapped the counter probably harder than he meant to. That had to smart. "Isn't that where they found a bunch of those crop circles?"

She frowned. "No. No, I don't think it is."

"Cool outfit." His gaze dipped without apology to her chest. Dudes were so predictable. She could almost guess his next question. "Wanna see my room?" Yep, that had been it.

"Hmm. Can't say I do." She flicked her pointer finger at him. "Work on your game. It's missing the whole middle section. Said with care, not judgment. Excuse me." What was it about alcohol and talking to guys that zapped any and all trepidation? She decided to ride with it, which was helpful because the rest of the night was sadly the same. Drunk frat guys trying to make conversation, but clearly working with another set of motives that involved separating Taryn from her clothes.

"You're hotter than my mama," one guy called to her as she crossed the room to Sasha.

"What?" she asked, turning to him. "Play that sentence back. It's disturbing."

Even Caz, who apparently had a thing for people with glasses and gaming knowledge, was over the tired repetition. "The guy in front of the window? I thought he was gonna be a contender. He's a beast at Fortnite but can't tell me what color my eyes are after half an hour of conversation, ya know?"

"Too well. At least he didn't compare your heat index to his mom's."

"What?"

She slowly lifted her cup to her lips. "Exactly."

Taryn was on her third cup of that fruity punch and feeling so much looser because of it. Honestly, it was actually pretty marvelous stuff that had her enjoying the music and the freedom to dance and hang out. She should drink more frequently and let the good times happen because life was too short for third-act anxiety just when it was supposed to get good. She found a corner of the room and let herself groove to the music, which, to the frat brothers' credit, wasn't entirely awful. It was from that corner she first spotted the gorgeous blonde in jeans, brown boots, and a casual white blouse with flowy sleeves walking across the room. Hello. She didn't fit in. At all. She was dressed for dinner out, not Friday night at the TKE house, and that snagged Taryn's attention along with something vaguely familiar about her. Her confident carriage. The dimple on her right cheek that appeared when she smiled and waved at some girl she recognized as she glided through the room like she owned it. She was clearly on a mission, and no one was paying attention. Fueled by courage made of trash can punch, Taryn followed the blonde into the kitchen because she wasn't quite ready to pull her gaze away. She didn't know why or what she hoped to accomplish, but something dragged her like metal to a beautiful magnet.

"Excuse me," Taryn said. The blonde turned. "Are you looking for someone?" Not that Taryn would be able to help even if she was. She'd figure that part out later.

The girl offered a smile. Luckily, it was a few decibels quieter in the kitchen that was now littered with empty beer cans and red cups. At least they didn't have to shout. "Yeah, my boyfriend. He's around here somewhere. I'm supposed to meet him." The blonde quirked her head and Taryn was circling the familiar factor once again but couldn't quite land on how.

"Do we know each other?" Taryn asked, squinting.

"Hmm. No. I don't think so." Her blue eyes were large and beautiful, but it was the voice that did it, linking the treasure trove of summertime memories to the face in front of her right now all these years later. Was it actually possible?

"Charlotte. Are you Charlotte?"

That seemed to catch the girl off guard. "Yeah. Charlie. Wait. How do we know each other?" It had been nearly eleven years, and Taryn hadn't even gone through puberty the last time they'd seen each other. It made sense that Charlie wouldn't recognize her.

"Sorry. I should have led with that. I'm Taryn Ross. Don't laugh, but I think you were my babysitter."

"No." Charlie's jaw dropped, and she covered her mouth. "Stop. You're Taryn? Little Taryn from Dyer? Uh-uh." She reached out and gave Taryn's hand an affectionate squeeze, a smile blossoming.

"Not exactly little, but yes." She laughed because she now had two inches on Charlie. This was surreal. She attended a frat party and ran into Charlotte-the-babysitter, who she used to worship? The world was strange and wonderful. She wanted to ask a million questions, to stand in that kitchen and catch up with Charlie, stare into those blue eyes a little while longer, because what were the odds of this run-in actually happening? Something about the whole thing felt…ordained. The night had definitely taken a turn for the better.

* * *

Charlie was floored. She'd noticed the brunette to her left when she'd walked across the gathering room of the frat house. Mainly because the girl was incredibly striking and wearing an outfit that most people couldn't pull off. Except she had. And looked amazing, like a model right off Instagram. Now, as Charlie stood in that kitchen, she was supposed to believe that this truly attractive, sophisticated-looking young woman was actually Taryn, that energetic, silly kid from all those years back? It seemed almost laughable. The two simply couldn't merge in her head.

"Do you go to school here?" Charlie asked.

"Are you at Hillspoint, too?"

They'd spoken at the exact same time and laughed. Taryn motioned for Charlie to go first. But Charlie was knee deep in catch-up mode, all the while trying to keep her eyes on Taryn's and not on the very noticeable neckline on that vest. Her cheeks went warm at the acknowledgment, her stomach tight. What was that about? Certainly an unfamiliar response, but she was human, mature, and could certainly appreciate a beautiful woman. Nothing to write home about, right? Who wouldn't notice Taryn when she looked so amazing?

"I am," she said, trying to regain her line of thought. "I'm in my last year of graduate school. Danny, my, um, boyfriend, is one of the TKE advisors, and I told him I'd swing by and pick up a book we share." And now it felt strange talking about her boyfriend in the very next breath. Best to just press forward. "There's a reading due for class tomorrow, so no time to waste. I just had no idea it would be such a scene here."

"Not a frequenter of frat parties?" Taryn asked with a sideways grin that took Charlie back in time. There she was.

Charlie shook her head, grinning at the chaos around them. "It's been a few years." A round of loud cheering erupted from nearby, so Charlie leaned in close and raised her voice. "You're, what, a second year?"

"Third. But a new transfer. My first semester here." Taryn smelled like vanilla and honey. The ends of her long, dark hair tickled Charlie's shoulders, due to their proximity.

"Which would explain why I've never run into you. You're a junior? No. How is that possible?"

"I don't know what to say. I am. Time is a constant." Taryn's brown eyes seemed even bigger and more expressive than she'd remembered. Suddenly, she looked thoughtful.

"You said you're a grad student. What are you studying?"

"Creative writing. If all goes well, I want to write books until I'm an old woman who can't see the words on the page anymore. There are a few other steps between then and now, of course." She looked around. "I feel like I should knock on something."

"Somehow I don't think you'll need it."

"Thank you." Charlie nodded her head in the direction of Taryn's cup. "Careful with that stuff, okay? It sneaks up on you."

She tilted her head. "Aww, still looking out for me."

"Old habits and all." She looked around, realizing her original mission, yet Danny was nowhere to be found. "Enjoy yourself, okay? But not too much." Charlie passed Taryn a smile and squeezed her hand. "I'm gonna go find that book."

"Good to see you, Charlie." Charlie could tell she meant it. Taryn was glowing, and Charlie likely was, as well. This was too fantastic a discovery.

"Campus isn't that big. I'm sure it won't be the last time." Charlie paused for a moment, not really wanting to walk away just yet, feeling the loss of a moment that seemed important. She shook herself out of it, offered a wave, and headed into the backyard.

It didn't take her long to locate Danny. He stood in the back corner with three undergrad girls gathered around him in awe. Typical. She smiled and covered the short distance, waiting a few feet away, arms folded.

"What's it like having Monica McHenry for a mother? It's so cool that you're a writer, too," the first girl said. Bleached blond hair with a full spray tan in late September.

Danny shrugged. "I think I probably picked up some of her talent, but our styles are quite different." He ate this kind of attention up, always had. Harmless enough. She knew she had nothing to worry about. Danny very much valued their relationship and Charlie as his partner. Yes, he got a lot of attention because of his last name, but Charlie honestly wasn't the jealous type. If anything, they fed his ego so she didn't have to.

He caught her eye and held up a finger to his adoring crew. "If you'll excuse me."

"Having fun?" she asked with a knowing look.

He had the decency to look sheepish. "Shooting the breeze with the kiddos. New first-years."

"I could tell." She unfolded her arms. "I'm here for the reading."

He pulled the tattered textbook from the backpack he'd stashed a few feet away. "It's pretty dry stuff, and you can skip the last five pages because it's all a retread."

"Good tip. How much longer do you have, you think?"

"I'll hang out another hour and then leave the party in the hands of the distinguished and slightly inebriated brothers."

Charlie winced because the party was picking up steam by the second. "It's a madhouse in there. But I ran into a girl I used to babysit in high school."

"Is she a fan of Monica McHenry?" he asked with a playfully sly look.

"Stop that right now."

He laughed and kissed her lips. "I'm glad you stopped by." He gave her a twirl. "Looking good, too, Adler."

"Thank you," she said, not loving that move. "Gonna dive into what sounds like a thrilling read and turn in. I'm teaching in the morning. See you tomorrow?"

He nodded and placed a hand over his heart. "Always." It was possible he'd had a cup of that trash can punch.

She headed back through the house, understanding Danny would likely return to his fawning public for a few more strokes to his ego. More power to him. She had a reading to tackle and a career to prep for. It took more for Charlie to be noticed in the literary world, which meant she had to work harder, write better, and elbow her way to a seat at the table. The exciting part was that she was up for the challenge.

* * *

"Yes, people. Tare's ready to turn it loose," Sasha yelled as Taryn tossed both hands in the air, swaying her hips to the beat. "Back that ass up, T." Taryn laughed and danced alongside the girls from Alexander in the center of the room, losing herself in the music, the hypnotic rhythm beneath her feet, and the sense of finally being in the midst of it all, surrounded by people her own age. She was on her fourth or fifth cup of punch, which let her say good-bye to her inhibitions. Friends were meant to celebrate together, right? The room felt newly vibrant and fun, and even the frat bros seemed to chill the hell out for a minute and have a legit good time. Laughter topped the music until someone turned it up another three notches. The room took on a dreamlike quality, overrun and vibrating with people. Another two and a half Solo cups later, and maybe the space around her didn't seem as stable. Taryn sensed her error and tossed her current drink into one of the overflowing trash cans in the corner, but even that little bit of movement made the room lurch. She gripped a nearby table, absorbing the feel of the cool surface like a lifeline.

"This party is dope," Scarlet called to her. She lived two doors down and binged historical romance and reruns of The Kardashians.

No. Couldn't agree. Wasn't feeling dope. More like dizzy and reminiscent of an extra-loud funhouse on steroids. "I think I better slow down."

Scarlet gave her a hard knock on the shoulder that nearly sent her over the edge from okay to not at all. "Been there. You'll rally."

Taryn wasn't so sure. She didn't drink often, leaving her tolerance low. Her stomach churned, and the spinning room made the nausea worse. In the midst of the loud music and crowded room, her orientation fled like a felon. "Gonna grab air," she called to Caz.

"Oh fuck. You drink too much? I got you. Want me to come with you?" Caz's dark lipstick had faded entirely, revealing the innocent, youthful face beneath. Her cat ears were now crooked and tired. Taryn wanted to straighten them but couldn't seem to come up with the proper execution. Bad sign. Bad, bad sign.

"No, you have fun. Be a happy cat. I'm real good. See?" She tried so hard for casual and unaffected but only manifested as weird and wobbly. The reality was she was getting drunker by the second. That was probably fine, right? People got drunk. She just didn't usually, but new experiences were super good for growth, and who didn't need to learn and gather a variety of experiences? Oh, look, a plant. Did it have a name? She could call it Melvin. So incredibly green and leafy.

While she couldn't remember getting there, a few minutes later, Taryn realized she was sitting on the lawn as partygoers streamed in and out of the frat house. She remembered the scene she'd walked up on when they'd arrived and realized she was now a part of it. She blinked and took a deep breath, realizing she should probably walk home, but wasn't sure her Jell-O legs would make it.

"Hey, look at me." A soft hand touched her chin. "You okay?"

She turned and her eyes collided with big, blue ones. "Yeah. Hi." An angel was looking down at her. A pause as her circling brain caught up. "Charlotte. I mean, Charlie." Charlie was kneeling in front of her, perfectly sober and mature. Why couldn't Taryn be those things?

"That's me. Where do you live?" Her voice was soft and caring. Taryn wanted lean in to it because Charlie would make sure she was okay. Didn't they used to do that for each other?

"Alexander, but I'm so very fine. Promise. Just taking a little breather, ya know?" She added a semi-athletic stretch, which, on second thought, probably didn't help her case.

"Oh, I know those breathers. Too well." Charlie paused, seeming to make a decision. "Idea. I'm headed that way. Let's walk together."

"Cool, cool," Taryn said as relief descended.

Charlie looked behind her at the house. "Before we leave, is the girl with the cat ears your friend?"

Taryn nodded. "And my roommate. Caz."

"Caz. Even better. I'll let her know." Charlie disappeared for a moment and then reemerged a minute or two later. It also could have been twenty. Time was weird. "Here we go. You steady?"

Taryn stood but wobbled considerably. The world tilted like a tricky carnival ride. "What a minx."

"Me?" Charlie asked.

"No! Ha. The ground. It moves. I think. One can't be sure what's real."

Charlie laughed. "Okay. Executive decision. Give me your hand."

Taryn stared at Charlie's offered hand, caught off guard, and placed her own inside it. The contact was instantly exhilarating, like a zap of electricity had just moved through her arm. She was holding hands with her former hot babysitter while wearing possibly the most revealing outfit she'd worn in her entire life. What a surreal experience.

"So. Did you get your book?" Taryn asked, pretending all was normal and she was simply making conversation. Why? Because embarrassment overtook her like a tidal wave as she tried unsuccessfully to get her jumpy vision to behave. All the while, Charlie held on to Taryn, keeping her steady. She adeptly guided her away from the frat house and onto the winding sidewalk that worked its way around the perimeter of campus.

"I did. And I got to see Danny in action in his advisor role. It was…something."

"Right. Your boyfriend. Serious?" Taryn closed one eye thinking maybe that would help. She noticed herself leaning in to Charlie for added support, swallowing back the nausea that bubbled.

"It is serious. We've been together a few years and are planning on many more. Anyway. How are you feeling? Do you need to stop? Do you feel sick?"

"Definitely feel sick, but stopping seems ill-advised." Instead, Taryn focused skyward. "The clouds are so much more noticeable at night here in academia. Pillows hovering above our heads like haloed professors. Man, I'm poetic when I drink."

"Is that right?" Charlie laughed. "Hovering professor pillows. Intriguing descriptor."

"You would know, being a writer and all. And those people over there, do you see them? Whoa. Look how small. Tiny little folks." They were so cute. She waved and called to them. "Hi. You're adorbs!"

Charlie squinted. "Well, that's just because they're far away."

"Like little figurines poised for war." Taryn laughed at her own assessment, imagining the battle play out on the manicured lawn. But then she tripped on the sidewalk, saved by Charlie, and that brought her back to the present. "Whoops! Shouldn't do that. This is embarrassing."

"It's okay. I've got you." Why was Charlie's voice so smooth? Like warm butter. Taryn remembered her boobs from all those years ago. The white blouse she wore tonight said they were every bit as awesome now.

Taryn sighed. "This is going to be mortifying tomorrow, isn't it? I'm going to wake up in horror and have memories like a patchwork quilt. God, I really like those things. Do you like quilts?" Taryn asked on the steps of Alexander, gripping the railing tighter than customary. Time was still fluid and rebellious. How were they already here? They'd just started walking.

"Quilts? Well, this has taken a turn." Charlie shrugged. "Sure. I can appreciate a good quilt."

"I knew you would. I did. It was a lock."

Charlie laughed. "Also, I think you'll be fine tomorrow, other than a well-earned headache."

"Will you, though? You won't hate me. That would be the worst." She was bold to ask, but this was Charlie, whose opinion had always mattered to her. She shielded her eyes in horror. "God, that's intense." The fluorescent light outside the dorm was exceptionally bright, making her shift so the light didn't make her want to squint like Dracula in the sun.

"Why don't we turn you this way?" Charlie angled her so her back was to the light.

"You didn't say if you were going to be okay tomorrow."

"Me?" Charlie turned to look at her, and even in the drunken haze, Taryn spotted the reservation behind her eyes. "Is anyone ever really fine?" Hmm. Maybe things hadn't gone so well with the boyfriend tonight. Obviously, she'd side with Charlie without a shred of information.

"Oh. I'm not really sure. Aren't they?" Taryn wanted to ask more. Actually, she wanted to know everything about Charlie. Her intrigue overflowed, but her communication skills weren't at their best, so she abstained.

"You're probably right. Hey, let's go up to your room."

That perked Taryn up until she decoded the true meaning of the sentence. "No, I can make it on my own. You don't have to escort me."

"It's not really an option I'm comfortable with." Charlie continued walking. Or gliding. She had such an easy, graceful way of moving. Taryn remembered that from years ago, the way Charlie floated through rooms. Thereby, she had no choice but to follow her, well, anywhere.

When they stepped off the elevator, Charlie craned her neck and called out, "Got an overserved client for ya, Gray."

Her RA, who Taryn had only spoken to a couple of times, peered around his open door at the end of the fourth floor. He had messy light brown hair and a tendency to wear a lot of plaid. "You know Gray?" Taryn asked in awe.

"He was a TA for a class I taught last semester. We became friends."

"Because everyone likes you. Even Gray the RA." That cracked her up. "Totally rhymes. He's a lumberjack with all that plaid."

"Yep, totally drunk," Gray said, coming into the hallway.

"Ya think?" Taryn called back, feeling more laughter bubble and take off. She honestly couldn't stop. "I'm sorry. It's probably not as funny as it seems, Gray the RA." She would have to call him that for the rest of time. "I'm aware enough to know that I'm a drunk skunk. Don't hate me." She placed a hand on her forehead as they watched her. "You know what I'm going to hate? The incoming hangover which is so clearly en route. Whoa. I do not hate the artwork on that girl's dry-erase board, though." She squinted. "Wait. It's porn." A pause. She turned her head sideways. "Still not bad."

"Which room is hers?" Charlie asked, pulling her along.

"412," Gray said, proving he knew his charges.

Taryn widened her eyes. "Color me impressed, RA Gray."

"I can take it from here," Gray said. He was so tall. Unnecessarily so. Who authorized that?

"Nope. All mine," Charlie said, and something about that statement made Taryn warm and happy and okay with Charlie manhandling her. In fact, she'd welcome more of those hands on her body, anywhere Charlie wanted them. She let them inside after three failed attempts to unlock the door and walked straight through the sitting area to her room and found her bed.

"Oh, this is good. Hello, bed. If the ceiling wouldn't spin, it would be even better." She heard a noise in the living room. "Charlie, are you rifling through my fridge right now?"

"Yes, I am." A moment later, Charlie appeared with a bottle of water in each hand. "I want you to drink one now and leave the other one next to your bed. You're going to wake up with a dry mouth. It's the worst. Grab one of these and take at least four swallows."

While the fact that she had to be chaperoned home was embarrassing, Taryn had a soft spot for Charlie's bedside manner. "You got prettier."

"What do you mean?" Charlie asked, removing the cap from one of the waters so it was ready to go.

"You were the prettiest girl in town back home. But you're prettier now. My thoughts are just talking. Are they allowed to do that out loud?"

"Great question." Charlie paused, bottle still in her hand. "But that's sweet of you, Taryn."

Taryn shrugged. "Just drunk honesty. Cue the regrets."

"Why would you regret honesty, especially if it's kind?"

"And it's because you're too smart and gorgeous and sophisticated to hang out with me, and I'm over here gushing."

"You told me I'm pretty. Thank you."

"You're welcome." They exchanged a smile and held it. Taryn felt that moment all the way down to her toes, which she now curled. "I'm so out of my league."

"Your league?" Charlie frowned. "I don't have a clue what you're talking about. We've always hung out just fine. You think you're going to be okay?" She slid a strand of Taryn's hair behind her ear softly and stood up. Taryn wanted her to do that again.

"Ima be just fine," she told Charlie. Though she had a feeling she was only getting drunker. "Did you know this whole time you were friends with Gray?"

"Shocking, but yes."

"I mean that he's the RA guy here and loves chips."

"I knew that, too." A quiet laugh. Taryn smiled at the sound. "Good night, Taryn. Drink that water. I put my number in your phone in case you need anything. Gray is just down the hall, too."

"You're so nice. A good walk tonight. And quilts. We both like those. So, thank you."

Another quiet laugh. "No problem. Sleep well."

The door clicked shut, and Taryn exhaled. She closed her eyes, but the spinning room let her know that was not in her best interest. Nope. Instead, she lay there and replayed as much of her conversation with Charlie as she possibly could. Charlie. Right here. So exciting and surreal. There really was no one like her, and she was everything Taryn remembered about her at a minimum. But with both of them now grown, would their dynamic be different? She wondered if they'd be friends, then laughed that right the hell off. Charlie was a grad student who'd just done Taryn a favor. End of story. Close the book. Pay the check. It's not like they were gonna hang out.

As her stomach roiled, she played music from her phone and tossed a hand over her head, escaping into the angsty sounds of her Chill the Fuck Out playlist until the world finally slowed down. It had to have been a couple hours later when Caz woke her up. She and Sasha flipped on the light in the living room, laughing and shushing each other as they attempted to eat what had to be an entire bag of excessively crunchy chips. Feeling better after the passage of time and two bottles of water, Taryn grinned at their giggles, curious about all they'd seen and done. She'd find out tomorrow. That was the great thing about this place, her new home.