pages between us.

chapter 1

"ROVER" comes a shout from the room across the hall. And two minutes later,  "get your ass in here!" 

Of course, I know who this high pitched squeal is coming from. My best friend, and one of the four other girls I live with, Bella Mann.  

She's one of the only people who refuses to let me burrow away in my room. Insisting that I "cannot hole myself away forever". When she says this, I immediately think, oh yeah? watch me. But ultimately, I know she does it out of love, so I just smile and agree, knowing half of the things she invites me to i'll never actually go to. 

I know what you're thinking; what an asshole! But it's not like that, I promise. Ever since I can remember I've always been reserved. I've always felt like I'm missing that key piece that would make me able to socialize in the easy, comfortable way everyone else does. When I walk in a room, I instantly convince myself that all eyes are on me. That everyone is judging how I walk, what I say, what my next move will be. This is irrational. And I know that. But hey, that's the thing about mental illness, it cannot be rationalized with. 

I fold down the page of Malibu Rising I was reading, set my book on my nightstand, and roll out of my bed. Opening my door, I'm met with a very  disheveled Bella. 

"He texted me back! And I don't know what to say! This is the worst thing to ever happen ever!" she yelps. "I need you to work your magic, and help me come up with something to say" she looks up at me with puppy dog eyes, pleading. 

"Okay, okay. Let me see what he said."

it's not like I care helping her text her boy toys. In fact, I think it's sweet she even wants my opinion in the first place. I'm not the most versed when it comes to boys, so I know she only really asks my opinion so I can feel included. 

That's the thing about Bella, she always makes me feel included. Wanted. 

It's not like I'm a total recluse or anything. I just have a harder time finding things to connect with other people my age over. Sometimes, I think all my friends are just pretending to like me, but secretly they all just tolerate me. I'm a fun, interesting person, but I also never allow myself to get overly excited, so I always feel like i'm a total bore to everyone else around me. 

"Bella, I don't know why you're convinced I'm a wizard when it comes to texting boys. I've literally never even been on a date with one" I reason. 

"Okay yeah, but you've been in relationships. Penis or no penis, it's still a date, Rover. Texting boys and texting girls is all the same really" she states matter-of-factly.

"That is literally so far from the truth, it's astounding you would even think that for a second" I say. 

"Whatever, being bi makes you like a relationship guru as far as I'm concerned" she retorts "and also you're like super good at wording things. Must be from all those books you read" and then "maybe I should start reading..." but this last part is more to herself than anything. 

I take her phone and look at the text she's so concerned about; 

U busy tmrw night?

"Uh, that's it?" I question. 

"Yeah" she gives me a flat lipped smile, that says boys are such dumb asses aren't they?

"Oh boy, he's a real keeper, huh?" I laugh. "And you want to hang out with him? You're sure?" I ask, thinking if I ask enough times maybe she'll realize she's better than a frat boy she met and gave her number to 2 weeks ago who only just now texted back- and for a hook up nonetheless. Bella is a virgin and I know she want's her first time to be special. Not like roses and candles on a beach, but definitely a couple steps up from a frat bedroom littered with red solo cups and left over trojan packets.