A few weeks later, Keefe comes over. Our dorm looks so great! My room has a carpet with flowers, and my bedspread is white with gold lining. Fairy lights decorate the ceiling, and we hung flower hooks for our book bags. I have a huge mirror, and a small vanity in the corner. My bookshelf is white, too. Keefe and I have become much better friends, with him walking with me to class and hanging out every day.
The living room has a tv with a pale beige couch, a light pink carpet, and purple beanbags.
I smile because college is finally starting to feel like home.
I hear a knock on the door, so I jump up to see Keefe walk in without even waiting for me to say, 'come in.'
He has this intensity in his eyes, like he came here for a reason.
"Hey, Keefe," I say, uncertainty tinting my voice.
"I can't wait anymore." He says, and my eyebrows scrunch together.
"What?" I ask.
"I just can't." He walks toward me, him towering over me, and he clashes his lips against mine. I smile and wrap my arms around his neck.
"Well, it finally happened," Marella says sarcastically. I glare at her and chuck a pillow at her face.
"Shut up," I say, and press my lips agains Keefe's once again. And it feels right.