I Dare You To Love Me Back

Chapter Two

The first week of college had flown by in a flurry of syllabi, introductions, and the steady hum of new routines. By Friday, I was more than ready for a break from the whirlwind. The initial excitement had begun to wane, and I longed for something familiar, something grounding.

So, when Izzy burst into my room late Friday afternoon, her eyes alight with mischief, I wasn't entirely surprised.

Leah, my roommate who had arrived a day after me, wasn't startled either. Izzy's unannounced entrances had become a familiar routine. We'd stopped locking the door to avoid having to get up each time.

"Thank God I'm used to your bursts," Leah said without looking up from her pedicure. "Otherwise, I'd have to kill you for messing up my nail art."

"I know deep down you love my dramatic entrances as much as I enjoy making them," Izzy shot back with a wink.

"Emma!" Izzy shouted, leaning against the doorframe with exaggerated flair. Her grin was infectious. "How about we get outta here for the weekend?"

I looked up from my sketch, intrigued. "Get outta here? Where to?"

"Anywhere!" Izzy waved her hand grandly. "I've got a car, a full tank of gas, and a bad case of cabin fever. We could hit the mountains, find a cute little town, or just drive till we hit the coast. What do ya think?"

The idea of escaping campus was instantly appealing. The thought of leaving behind crowded dorms, the pressure of new faces, and the academic grind made my heart race with excitement. Still, I hesitated—was I ready to abandon my new routine so soon?

Izzy must have sensed my hesitation. She dropped her voice to a coaxing whisper. "Come on, Emma. We've been here a week. We deserve a break. Plus, I bet we could find some great spots for you to sketch and some quirky places for me to brainstorm my next big idea."

Leah chimed in with a grin, "I'd love to have the room all to myself for the weekend."

I hesitated for a moment longer, then smiled. "Alright, let's do it. A weekend getaway sounds perfect."

Izzy whooped with excitement and dashed out, instructing me to grab my essentials and meet her in the parking lot in twenty minutes. As I packed a small bag, I felt a rush of anticipation. I'd never been one for spontaneous decisions, but Izzy's energy was contagious, and I was eager to embrace the unknown.

"I'll help you pack," Leah offered, her tone as casual as her nail art.

Twenty minutes later, I found Izzy leaning against a beat-up old Jeep in the parking lot. The vehicle had character, with chipped paint and dents that spoke of past adventures. The air around it carried the sweet, tropical scent of pineapple, as though the fragrance had seeped into the very fabric of the seats.

I wouldn't have pegged her for a Jeep girl, especially since she was born and raised in New York. But then again, Izzy and predictable didn't belong in the same sentence.

Izzy beamed as I approached, her hair in a loose ponytail, looking like she was born for the open road. She tossed me a pair of sunglasses. "Sunglasses at night—that's the vibe I'm rockin'," she said with a laugh as I slipped them on.

"Ready to roll?" she asked, bouncing on her toes.

"Ready," I replied, sliding into the passenger seat.

As I buckled my seatbelt, I noticed the small details that made this Jeep distinctly Izzy's. A hula dancer on the dashboard swayed with every bump and dip in the road, while a string of colorful beads hung from the rearview mirror, clinking softly with each turn. The radio blasted Taylor Swift's "Style," the kind of song that made you want to roll down the windows and sing along.