TRANSFER. | PAIGE BUECKERS.

03.

geno ended up being right about my leg. three days later, and im fine. i thank the ice made in my mini fridge as i unlock my dorm. i'll need both my legs tonight. i open the door to find rosslyn digging in her closet, music from her speaker muffling the sound of the clothing hitting the floor. she was doing the exact same thing before i left. it seemed as though she knows what i'm about to say, explaining herself quickly.

"i have nothing to wear! how am i supposed to find my husband if i can't even find a top that fits me nice?" she whines and lifts  her head out of the closet to look at me.

"who said you were finding a husband? this is the university of connecticut, not the bachelor." i respond, opening my closet. georgia already went into our bathroom. of course she has her outfit picked out.

"hey! so many people marry who they meet in college. you never know!"

although i've been in college for a little less than a week, i think it's safe to say the people here aren't marriage material. we're young and stupid with stupid morals and stupid priorities. i know rosslyn knows that, but it seems like it doesn't matter. straight people confuse me. i give her a quick "mhm" and i hear her go back to digging. i study my options in front of me, every piece of clothing hung on my white hangers. i take out a black mini skirt i was gifted in a brand deal and a hot pink halter top that stops and inch above my belly button. my hair is still wet from the shower i took in the locker room. if i get nothing else from this night, i may get a couple instagram pictures that'll hold me off from needing to post for another 2 weeks. i used to love posting, but now i'm finding it hard to. i push the idea out of my mind. not tonight. rosslyn decided on a pair of jean shorts and a lime green top that looks more like a bra than anything. she looks amazing in it, as she does with everything. me, georgia, and rosslyn all sit on my twin xl bed and do our makeup. georgia and rosslyn talk about a couple of guys that are in their classes. i fake gag.

"okay fruit cup, what would you like to talk about then , huh? your little staring contest with paige bueckers?"

"what?!" rosslyn yelps "paige? like basketball paige?" rosslyn loves basketball, and had forced both me and georgia to watch the entirety of last season with her. hince why i know all of their names.

georgia nods her head "mhmmm, when sloane hurt her leg paige came in, and then all of a sudden she can't take her eyes off her."

"don't be dramatic." i say sternly. georgia is seriously playing this up into something it isn't. the lash thing i need is a relationship, i can't even be nice to myself. i grab my eyeliner pencil and start drawing on my waterline.

"maybe she recognizes you" rosslyn drags out the last word, poking my arm. i hope not. thats kind of embarrassing.

"i doubt it" i scoff, stealing georgia's lip liner from her bag. she always has the best makeup. she side eyes me and i blow her a kiss. 

" i don't think you realize that you're almost at  two million on tiktok, you're at five million on youtube, and snapchat pays to do that weird subscription thing. you're kind of an influencer now." rosslyn reiterates. that is true. my accounts are growing at a steady rate, and i'm able to use the money i make off of snapchat to pay for my textbooks. i need to be more grateful for this job.

"it's just hard when there's people hating on her 24/7" georgia says, taking the words out of my brain before i could even think them. "not to mention the death threats for literally no reason. i mean, she got famous for being talented, funny and pretty. nothing controversial at all, and yet people love to hate on her"

it's true that i wasn't prepared for the hate i was gonna get when i blew up this summer. i should've invested in a therapist, my mom insists that i get one, but i don't wanna feel weak. not when i have everything going for me. i don't have enough issues to go to therapy.