Without Holding Back

Chapter Two

         Hours later, Daisy and I are scrubbed up and fed and have decided to spend the rest of the evening lounging in the nondescript dorm room we were assigned to for the week, nursing our sore bodies and broken spirits.

Daisy lays on her bed, tossing a lacrosse ball into the air and catching it while singing along to the music emanating softly from her phone.

"Sweeter than wine. Softer than a summer night. Everything I want I have, whenever I hold you tight. This magic moment."

I smile as I reapply moisturizer on my peeling skin for the third time since showering. Daisy's taste in music hasn't changed in the ten years I've known her; it's all oldies, all the time, the sappier the better.

I set the moisturizer down on our shared nightstand. My side is tidy and organized. small stack of books, a notebook for jotting down lacrosse-related notes, and a water bottle take up a quarter of the space. In comparison, Daisy's side is basically an explosion of random items: three half-empty lip balms, a to-go container of cookies she swiped from the dining hall three days ago, an assortment of gels promising to alleviate sunburns, and a smattering of used contact lenses she'd carelessly flung from her eyes each night.

I get to work scraping the contact lenses off the nightstand, humming along to The Drifters. hen I finally get them unstuck, I toss them into the box with the stale cookies and dump the whole thing in the trash can. I relegate the aloe to her bath caddy and organize the lip balms in a more aesthetically pleasing row.

"Better," I say to myself, and move on to address the piles of clothing on our floor.

"You don't have to do that," Daisy says idly, although we both know I do. I'm happy to do this for her. It's just the way we are together; we both make up for what the other lacks. Or, maybe a nicer way of putting it is that we both give each other what we need.

"My mind just feels more calm when - "

" - your environment is organized," Daisy finishes for me. She tosses the ball up in the air again, higher this time, and catches it in her palm.

The music stops, and noises from the hallway filter through the thin walls. It's the sound of plans being made, outfits being selected, a whole life happening outside this sparse dorm room.

"What do you want to do tonight?" Daisy asks. She tosses the ball again but misses it this time, flipping onto her side to avoid getting smacked in the face. The ball bounces off the bed and lands on the floor, rolling all the way to the door.

"Be careful!" I exclaim. "That could break your nose."

"Ooh, maybe then I can finally get that nose job I've wanted since eighth grade."

"Don't be ridiculous," I say, and reassure her for the millionth time that her nose is just fine.

Daisy's nose actually is fine, along with the rest of her features. But she doesn't look like a Snapchat filter, which is endlessly upsetting to her.

"Speaking of perfect noses," Daisy says as she fetches the ball. "Did you hear that Ava Jameson and Stu Desoto broke up again?"

Ava has dating Stu Desoto for two years, ever since she was a sophomore and he was a senior. The only reason I know this is because Stu and Connor are friends. It's slightly mortifying when our paths cross and Ava pretends not to know me, even though she's spent many nights at our house, her graceful dancer's body sprawled across both our couch and Stu.

I frown. "Guess that means they're off again?" Their relationship has always been dramatic; breaking up and making up with startling regularity.

"Bet she'll move on quickly this time," Daisy says. "There are probably boys lining up outside her door as we speak." She rolls onto her stomach. "Do you ever wonder, though, like, when is it going to be our turn?"