Chapter 1
Could this day get any worse?
Lauren glanced down at her favorite white blouse—soaked with orange juice. The little pearl buttons dripped with liquid. At least the way the glass had tipped kept her short, floral skirt dry, even if it had left a puddle on the floor.
I don’t have time for this.
First, the shower head spitting brown gunk, then the thing with the sink faucet, plus she was out of mascara... It was official. She had woken up cursed.
She would have thrown the glass on the floor, but she didn't want to clean up the pieces. Lauren heaved a sigh and put the cup in the sink before she did something she would regret.
The sun shone through her kitchen window, illuminating the large space that she loved with rosy light. She didn't want to leave; it'd be easier just to stand over the sink and stare out the window as the sun rose.
She sighed again, then crossed the dim, narrow hallway—almost tripping on the throw rug her mother had insisted she buy—and pushed her bedroom door open.
Lauren hurried over to the closet, already going over her wardrobe in her mind. She shoved the hangers to the side and grabbed the first white blouse she found. She switched shirts, tossing the sticky one toward the hamper. It should have sailed high across the bed and into the wicker basket, but it veered way off course and knocked her favorite lamp over. The glass crashed on the hardwood floor.
Lauren groaned inwardly. Maybe I should have thrown the glass in the kitchen—then I’d have matching piles. She shook her head with a sigh and rushed for the door. The mess would have to wait.
She passed through the front door of her building and into a beautiful morning. In a cloudless blue sky, the sun peeked over the apartment building across the street, reflecting off the glass windows. A warm breeze had started to dissipate the cool, early morning air. Lauren jingled her car keys in her hand as she walked down the sidewalk to where her coupe waited. The sun beating down on her shoulders made her feel a little better.
Maybe the rest of the day will be all right.
Midmorning traffic on the expressway was maddening. Why did she insist on living so far away from campus? She really couldn’t afford to miss any more classes, especially not her first.
Lauren drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, frowning, and inched forward behind the line of cars. She growled as a banged-up SUV with a dangling back bumper angled its way into her lane, then slammed on its brakes. Its license plate read “8MYDUST.” Lauren rolled her eyes. Some people were so lame.
An obnoxious song came on the radio, and her hand shot out to change the station. The opening chords of her favorite Rolling Stones song came through the speakers. That’s more like it. Lauren sang along, ignoring the stares of the drivers on either side of her.
Ignore the crazy girl with the wild, dark curls singing and dancing all alone.
Twenty minutes later, she eased her car into one of the campus’s main parking lots. Of course, she couldn’t find an empty space anywhere. She drove in circles, willing a spot to open as she got more frustrated by the second. Just when she was about to give up and try another lot further away, she saw the red taillights of a white sedan backing up.
Lauren let out a breath. Thank the gods.
She swung into the spot and put the car in park, then grabbed her books from the passenger seat and jumped out, making her way towards her class across the sprawling campus.
