Pink Veil

c h a p t e r | t h r e e

I am sitting in my room at my work table, typing away an assignment that is not due for another two weeks. But remember when I said that I like getting work done early? Well this, is precisely what I meant.

The week has been crazy so far.

Being an English Lit. major, I think I have made the best choices with the courses that I could. My professors, surprisingly, are amazing, and I genuinely like being back in public again after almost three and a half years of being in isolation. If Mom and Dad saw me right now, I know they would be proud, just like I wanted them to be.

The professors are also as excited as they can be at the start of the year, and the students are psyched about the first weekend parties here at The University of Chicago.

I have also been successful in avoiding any sort of interaction with Foster Wilson since Monday in The Steam Room, except for when he accidentally tripped on the strap of my bag while going towards his seat in class on Tuesday, and muttered an almost inaudible sorry. Or when my eyes accidentally met his when I was going back towards my dorm building on Wednesday evening. Or when our fingers had brushed against each other when we had to pick up the books from Mr. Clyde's table for our assigned reading on Thursday.

Nothing major.

Right?

Right.

I would have disregarded it as nothing major too, if my stomach had not done weird little summersaults each time when he was somewhere in my vicinity.

I tried to stay focused on the assignment I was working on but gave up soon after my mind began wandering into the events of the week and I opened up the tab in my browser which listed all the small shops, stores, and cafés near the campus that would probably hire someone like me, who had absolutely no prior work-experience.

I heard the door to my room open and watched Liv come inside and plop down on her bed with my side-eye. She took off her shoes with her feet and pulled them up on the bed and looked at me with a cheshire cat grin on her face.

"Liv, go wash your feet before putting them on your bed," I said without looking at her, my eyes still scanning the page pulled up on my laptop.

"I swear you are worse than my Mom," she cringed her nose.

"You are going to regret it later babe, just go, it will not even take a minute," I said and tried to push her off the bed.

"Alright, I will, but you will have to do what I say after that, deal?" her cheshire cat grin was back in place, which made me a little worried.

But oh, who cares?

"Fine I will do whatever you say, just go for now," I agreed, with a wave of my hand.

Now, after exactly ten minutes, Liv is all freshened up, and we are sitting on her bed, me scrolling through my to-do list of the weekend.

"So, what potentially had you forcing me to make a deal?" I asked, still scrolling through my phone.

"I got invited to a party," I looked at her, and the grin was still intact in its place.

I tried to process why that would concern me but was unable to come up with an explanation at first, but when I did, I practically felt my eyes widening in my sockets till they couldn't anymore.

"Liv, you are not going to make me go to this party with you right?" I asked, trying to make sense of everything.

She bobbed her head up and down rapidly before speaking, "Yes Rach, and since you have already said yes to it, I will start with picking out our outfits for the night," she announced and tried to get up from the bed to go towards our dressers before I pulled her down again.