Almost yours

Chapter One

Amber
August 15th, 2022
(First week into the Semester)

I didn't dress to be unforgettable.

I dressed to feel like I belonged.

I stood in the middle of our dorm room, barefoot on the cold floor, my phone playing music I wasn't really listening to. The room still looked temporary—open suitcases, folded clothes that hadn't found a place yet, Liv's side already louder than mine.

I adjusted the hem of my skirt again.

Short. Tight. Black. The kind of skirt I wouldn't have worn back in Mapleton, the kind that made me feel older than eighteen and younger than ready. I paired it with a backless top, thin straps crossing my shoulder blades, my skin exposed in a way that felt intentional. Not desperate. Just... different.

On my feet: worn brown cowboy boots. Not costume-cowboy. Real ones. Broken in. Confident.

I looked like someone who went to college parties.

Which scared me a little.

"You're doing it again," Liv said from her bed.

"Doing what?"

"Staring at yourself like you're trying to decide whether you're allowed to exist like this."

I exhaled a laugh.

Liv stood up and came closer, adjusting a strand of my hair without asking. Her long, natural blonde hair fell perfectly down her back, effortless in a way mine never was. Her blue eyes were bright, already alive with anticipation.

"You look hot," she said simply. "And not in a trying-too-hard way."

"That's... reassuring."

"You don't need reassurance," she added. "But I know you like it."

I did.

Outside, the campus buzzed. Music carried through the night air, bass heavy enough to feel in my chest. Groups of students walked past us, laughing, shouting, already bonded over nothing and everything.

Ridgewood State University looked different at night—less serious, more alive. Like the rules loosened after dark.

The house was packed when we got there.

Heat hit me first. Then noise. Then movement everywhere. Bodies pressed together, sweat and perfume and beer mixing into something dizzying. Colored lights flashed across walls and faces, turning everyone into versions of themselves they probably only were at night.

Liv grabbed my hand immediately.

"Kitchen," she said. "Always the kitchen."

Red cups covered every surface. Someone shoved one into my hand before I could ask what was in it.

I took a sip.

Tequila.

I coughed. "That's not okay."

Liv grinned. "You'll thank me later."

I doubted it. But I drank anyway.

The alcohol burned, then warmed. I felt it settle in my chest, loosening something inside me that had been tight since move-in day. We drifted through rooms. I talked to people whose names slipped out of my head seconds after they said them. A girl from our floor who kept shouting over the music. A guy who told me he was already failing calculus.

Someone complimented my boots.

Someone else spilled beer on my skirt and apologized like it was a life-changing mistake.

By my second drink, I stopped thinking about my posture.

By my third, I stopped thinking at all.

I leaned against the kitchen counter, laughing too loud at something that wasn't that funny, when a voice next to me said—

"Okay, serious question. Is it supposed to be this hot in here, or is the house just angry?"

I turned toward him.

He wasn't flashy. Hoodie. Jeans. Easy stance, like he knew where to put himself without taking up too much space. His hair was blonde, messy in a way that didn't feel styled. His eyes were dark, warm, steady.

Friendly.

Disarmingly so.

"I think it's a test," I said. "Like, if you survive the heat, you earn the degree."

He laughed, low and surprised. "That explains a lot."

We talked.

About the party. About how confusing the campus was. About how everyone pretended they weren't overwhelmed. He told me he played football like it wasn't a big deal. I told him I shared a dorm room with my best friend from home.

"That's either really smart," he said, "or really risky."

"Ask me again in a month," I said.

At some point, he handed me another drink. I took it without asking what was in it. My head felt light. My limbs warm. My words came easier than they ever had.

I talked too much. I laughed too openly. I forgot to be careful.

People moved around us constantly, brushing past, interrupting, disappearing again. It felt like we were standing still while the night spun around us.

I didn't ask his name.

He didn't ask mine.

It felt easier not to.

Liv appeared beside me eventually, cheeks flushed, hair slightly wild. She looked between us and smiled like she'd already decided something.

"You alive?" she asked me.

"I think I'm past that," I said.

She laughed. "He seems nice."

"I think so too," I said slowly. "Which feels dangerous."

"It's the first night," she said. "Everything's allowed to feel a little dangerous."

When she pulled me away, I let her.

And when I looked back—

He was gone.

The counter was still warm where he'd been leaning.

I finished my drink anyway.

I never asked for his name.

And somehow, that felt like a mistake I wouldn't understand until it was too late.