Five Steps | Chaelisa

Chapter 7

Lisa's POV

"That was way bigger than a small get-together," I say to Suzy as we sit on the bench at the bus stop while Abby squints at a bus schedule on her phone. It's just after 2:00 a.m., and the streets around us are dark and quiet except for the fellow students who stroll by, giggling couples clinging to each other, a group of friends championing a box of pizza.

"Maybe just a bit," Suzy says, laughing as she grabs my arm and leans into me, the cinnamon-y scent of Fireball moving over me in a wave.

I fight the instinct to pull her closer and scoot a little farther down the bench. Abby lets out a long sigh and circles over to where we're sitting, plunking down right in between us.

"Well, we're fucked," she says as she pockets her cell phone. "Last bus was twenty minutes ago."

I peer past her at the enormous hill we rode up on the way here. I don't even have to open up Google Maps to know it's at least a mile back to my apartment, the route winding and poorly lit. I grimace and turn back to meet Suzy's gaze over Abby's curly hair.

This isn't Philly, and I am not a fan of strolling around after midnight in a place I am not even a little bit familiar with. Especially when I've hit my self- imposed two-drink limit and am definitely a bit buzzed. Then again, what woman is?

"We can call an Uber," Suzy offers.

An Uber would... definitely be out of budget for me. Bus rides are free for Pitt students. An Uber at this time means surge pricing.

I bite my lip and try to psych myself up for the impending walk as a small white sedan chugs to a stop in front of us. The window slowly rolls down to reveal warm brown eyes, identical to the ones I sat across from for most of the night at the party.

Roseanne. I've never been happier to see someone that awkward in my life.

"Hey," she says, pushing her long blonde hair behind her ear. "Do you guys need a ride?"

The words are barely out of her mouth before we're all tumbling into her car, singing her praises.

"You're an actual lifesaver!" Suzy says, and Roseanne's cheeks turn faintly red over all the attention.

We buckle in and tell her where we're heading. Suzy and Abby are roommates at Nordenberg, the bougiest of the freshman on-campus housing. I saw the pictures online when I was applying—vending machines in the lobby, a flat-screen TV in every room, air-conditioning. It's the Ritz-Carlton to my Econo Lodge over on Atwood Street.

I somehow get cramped in the back seat for the ride home, even though I'm at least a head taller than Abby, who snagged shotgun. I rest my forearms on my knees, enjoying the darkness of the car and the song playing through the speakers and, admittedly, the way that last bit of alcohol is making me feel. Normal, for the first time since I left.

As we drive down the treacherous hills into South Oakland, I pull my phone out and check my Snapchat, refreshing it a few times just to be sure it's not my low-speed data telling me that Samantha still hasn't replied. She opened my Cheetos Snap four hours ago and didn't send anything back.

Great.

I glance up as the car starts to slow, and I see the multifloor, gleaming glass and brick building that must be Nordenberg come slowly into view for the first time. Even with the beer cans strewn along the walkways, the pizza boxes overflowing out of the trash cans, it looks like an actual palace. I think I can see a girl on the fifth floor in a hoodie and a blanket, the AC nice and crisp even in the late-August heat.