Southern Boy Charm | ✓

Chapter 35

When I return to the room, Katy is laying out outfits onto her bed. The ensembles both consist of short ripped denim jeans and different styles of crop tops. My brow furrows in confusion. "What are these for?" I ask, walking up next to her and running my hands over the fabric.

She looks up at me, her eyes bright with excitement. "These are the clothes for our first ever college party!" she bounces up and down on her heels. "Well, not really my first college party, but the first where I'm actually a student. Anyway, I thought that you could borrow some of my clothes if you'd like since I didn't see many party clothes in your stuff."

She suddenly freezes, slapping herself on the forehead. "Oh my gosh, I swear sometimes I can be dumber than a sack of bricks. I never even asked you if you wanted to go!"

She looks at me expectantly for my answer, but I'm not too sure what to do. I was never really a partier. My ideal night of fun just consisted of hanging out with Bethany, Nathan, and Jack at my house or something stupid like a McDonald's parking lot. The thought of drunken teenagers all crowded together in one dirty frat basement doesn't t exactly make me excited. But, this is college, and going to your first party is basically a rite of passage. Plus, I can tell just from her puppy dog eyes how much Katy wants me to go.

"Screw it," I say snapping out of my thoughts. "Let's go party!"

She claps her hands up in excitement and shoves the small clump of clothes into my hands. "Put this on. You'll look hot in it." She stares at me, waiting to see the results. When I look down at the wad of clothes, then back up at her, I realize that she's waiting for me to change in front of her. I know that she means it in a completely platonic way, and I have always thought nothing of changing in the locker rooms or with Bethany before going out, but something about only knowing her for a few hours makes me feel like we aren't exactly there yet.

My cheeks grow red, and she must notice because she quickly talks. "Oh my gosh, I completely forgot that I literally met you today. I swear the moment I meet anyone I automatically think we're sisters or something!" she quickly turns around so that she's facing the wall. My cheeks only grow redder, but I turn towards the wall on my side of the room and change into the clothes. In the jean shorts, my butt is barely covered, and the red cropped tube top accentuated the remanence of abs that I still have from my softball season. When I turn around, she is already changed into her outfit, jean shorts and a black cropped tank top, and is staring at the wall intensely.

"How do I look?" I ask, twirling around in a circle, and she pretends to fan herself. "Absolutely hot! The guys who invited us are going to be all on you."

My smile falls a little. "What guys?"

She sits down at her desk and pulls out her makeup, oblivious to the newfound anxiety in my voice. "They're in the next dorm over. I ran into one of the guys in the hallway and he told me about the frat party going on tonight. He's going to try and see if he can convince his roommate to come with us. He's a little bit quiet."

I nod my head, but my anxiety barely subsides. I haven't even talked to a boy besides Jack and Nathan in what feels like forever. Besides, they don't really count. I just don't want to be the embarrassing girl who can't string together more than one coherent sentence whenever they're in the presence of a boy. I take a deep breath and try to remind myself that college is about new and uncomfortable situations as I pull up a chair next to her with my makeup in hand, but that doesn't stop the swarm of butterflies flapping in my stomach.

Once we finish our makeup and she styles her long, black, coils, we each tuck our phone into our back pockets and head out of the dorm. By now it's already dark, and as Katy confidently walks up to the door to the right of our own and gives three loud knocks, I can feel my heart beating rampantly in my chest. This night feels almost as foreign to me as walking on the moon, but I know that most of my nerves come from excitement.

The door swings open, and I'm greeted by a tall, slender guy with blue eyes and dirty blonde hair. "Hey Katy," he says, looking her up and down. They hold each other's eye contact long enough for me to feel like I'm intruding. I can most definitely tell that there is some type of attraction there, but judging from the two of them, I don't think that either one is interest in getting a significant other a few days into college. HE finally tears his eyes from her and turns towards me. "And you must be Leighton?"

I nod my head. "I am she." I can already feel my face growing hot. He sends me a lopsided grin. "Nice to meet you. I'm Patrick but everyone just calls me PJ."

He opens the door further and allows us into the dorm. Their room is just as cramped as ours. It is obvious from just looking that one of them is drastically neater than the other. PJ lead sus to the bed with crumpled navy sheets and scattered clothing on the floor, and I can tell right away that he is not the neat one.

"We've only been here for like one day," Katy says, stepping over a discarded shirt. "How is your room already dirty."

He flashes her a smile. "It's just a special talent I guess."

She rolls her eyes. "Where is your roommate anyway? I was told there were two of you."

He shrugs his shoulders, sitting on the other bed only a few feet away from us. "He said that he needed to go to the front desk for something. I think he had a package." He turns his attention towards me. "So, where are you from, Leighton, because you have a weird accent."

I laugh. "If you think my accent sounds weird you should hear everything from my point to view."

He shakes his head. "Nope, both me and Katy would vote that the one with the weird accent is most definitely you, so your outnumbered." Katy nods her head in agreement. "Now you never answered me, where are you from?"

I shrug my shoulders. "Nowhere special. Just Ohio."

He nods his head. "So, have you ever been to Georgia before?" The questions bring back so many memories that I have to take a moment to collect myself. Despite all the time that had passed, it still gets a little difficult to talk about last summer. My memories have shifted, however, from only negative to a healthy mixture of both the negative and the positive. When I allowed myself to see that I didn't have to categorize my experience as one or the other, the memories became easier to remember.

A slight smile creeps on my face. "Yes, but just once last summer. I was helping my family friend Kelly and her son-"

"Nick!" PJ says, cutting me off as the door swings open. My forehead wrinkles in confusion. How in the world did he know what I was going to say?

But then I turn my head towards the new figure in the doorway and my breath catches in my throat because there, in all his glory, is Nick.

"Here's my roommate," PJ says, and my heart nearly stops.

~~~

Hey everyone! Before rounding out this chapter, I wanted to speak on an issue that is very important to me as a black female. If you have seen around you, there has been many Black Lives Matter Protests sparking around the world. Since I know that some younger kids and teens read my book, I think it is important that I use whatever platform I may have to help educate.

According to blacklivesmatter.com, "Black Lives Matter's mission is to eradicate white supremacy and build local power to intervene in violence inflicted on Black communities by the state police and vigilantes. By combating and countering acts of violence, creating space for Black imagination and innovation, and centering Black joy, we are winning immediate improvements in our lives." Despite what you may see on some news networks, it is about fighting the systematic racism that has been instilled on black people since slavery over 400 years ago. The police play into this because since America has wrongly pushed the narrative that blacks are "inherently dangerous" for centuries, cops are quicker to use more force on us and kill us. Even worse, these murderers rarely face any consequences because the people that are supposed to be investigating them are their coworkers and friends. I please urge everyone to research more on the topic, sign petitions, and/or come out to a local protest. If anyone has any questions whatsoever or wants to talk about it, I will be answering all my private messages about the subject.

Have an amazing rest of your day!

-K