Irresistible

TWO

It's been almost two weeks since classes started, and Brooke and I have become pretty good friends.

She's unlike anyone I've met before – soft-spoken yet outgoing, the kind of person you don't need a social battery for.

We actually have a lot in common, and she's funny as hell. We've been hanging out after school, sometimes studying and hitting the gym together, and other times going to clubs.

She might seem chill, but when I tell you that girl can party, I mean it.

I introduced Brooke to Elijah, and of course, they hit it off because Elijah gets along with anyone easily.

So, lately I've been inviting her to hang out with us, she fits right in honestly.

Right now, we're meeting at the cute little coffee shop across from the campus. Since Brooke and I have the last class of the day together, we've all been meeting there a few times a week.

Walking through the courtyard, the wind rustled through the trees whose leaves would soon turn a fiery orange, Brooke was currently venting about her dorm and her roommate.

"I was like, girl! You cannot just take my shampoo and conditioner because you feel like it," The blonde complains, gesturing dramatically and causing her ponytail to sway rapidly in the air.

I can't help but feel bad for her, remembering my own dorm days.

Luckily, I found my best friend in the dorms, and now we live in an apartment together.

"That's insane. That stuff is expensive, for real. Tell her to get her own," I agree, sympathizing with the annoyed woman.

Brooke nods vigorously in agreement as we continue walking. "Right! I asked her so nicely to stop, but she literally growled at me and called me a... pendeja," she says, adding air quotes to the last word. "I don't even know what that means!" she exclaims, clearly butchering the Spanish expression.

Honestly, I'm not entirely sure either what that means, but it doesn't sound good.

"I'm sure it's nothing bad," I lie, trying to make her feel better. "Good luck with that, Brookie," I say sarcastically, patting her shoulder encouragingly as we walk into the building.

The coffee shop exudes a charming vintage vibe, with sunlight flooding in through the front windows, illuminating the space beautifully.

Benches by the windows are adorned with lush greenery, while the walls were an older white brick. To the right, a cozy brown sofa and a few chairs beckon for lounging. It's the perfect post-college hangout spot.

Brooke and I quickly approach the counter to order our drinks.

She opts for an iced caramel macchiato, while I go for a matcha latte because, let's face it, coffee tastes like shit.

With our drinks in hand, we make our way to our usual table. I plop down next to Elijah, who's sitting with his back turned to us, while Brooke slides into the booth opposite from us.

"Jesus, you guys scared the shit out of me!" Elijah's voice echoes through the coffee shop, drawing a few glances from people sitting at the tables nearby.

He nonchalantly clutches his phone to his chest, pretending like he wasn't trying to hide it, but I know him too well. And why are his cheeks bright red?

As I scan his outfit, I notice his tight white shirt, accentuating his muscles, paired with jeans that contrast against his light brown skin.

His indigo hair is styled differently today, and he looks suspiciously good – better than usual.