When I get to my dorm that night, I pull a fresh, new case of beer out of my mini fridge, immediately chugging down the liquid.
A knock on the door interrupts my random thoughts.
"It's Sara," she says from the other side of the door.
"Come in," I say, staying in my position on my bed.
"Hey girl," she closes the door behind her before going to my futon by my bed, pulling a blanket over her bare legs.
"What's up?" I ask.
"Stressed the fuck out," she shrugs, inning her fingers through her hair.
"Aren't we all," I agree.
"Is Luke that dumb or is he acting like it?"
"You'd be surprised,"
"I thought he thought he was funny because he acted dumb," she sighs.
I grin and shake my head as she groans.
"Can I spend the night?" She asks.
"Yeah," I nod as she gets up to turn the futon into a bed.
I turn my lamp off after drinking my last sip of beer, getting comfy in my bed before falling asleep, waiting to wake up with a pounding headache.
~*~
The next afternoon me and Sara decided to go on a little lunch date because there was nothing better to do.
After ordering our food, Sara starts talking about tutoring Luke.
"Mr. Finstock wants me to help Luke with his project again today," Sara groans.
"But it's Saturday! You have a day off from school, that's not fair,"
"And you're coming with me again." She states.
"You're lucky I love you," I roll my eyes, sipping my Dr. Pepper. "When is this tutoring session?"
"5," she sighs, taking a bite of the chicken fried rice she ordered.
"I'm going to kill you,"
"Just bring a lot of alcohol 'cause I'm gonna need it," she tells me.
"I'm gonna need it just being in the same room as him,"
~*~
I pull on a pair of leggings, a long, baggy, maroon top and white high top converse before walking to the lounge to meet Sara and Luke.
I see the familiar blonde quiff looking down at the table at a piece of paper he is writing on.
"Where's Sara?" I ask him, sitting next to him on the couch.
"I'm not sure," he says without looking up from his paper.
"How's the project coming along?"
"I feel so dumb," he stresses, falling back on the couch while running his hand through his messy blonde quiff.
This makes me immediately feel bad for talking shit about him. I don't know why because I hate him and I feel like he hates me and now I feel bad because he's insecure about what I talk shit about and it kinda hurts.
"I suck at this shit and I don't know how to make myself better," he pulls at the roots of his hair.
"Hey, hey," I pull his hands from the top of his head to my knees, holding them there with my own hands.
"Not everyone's good at everything, Luke," I assure him. "I suck at history too, not everyone is a pro at it."
"I just - I feel like I'm the biggest idiot and everyone laughs at me in class and I don't want that to happen anymo-"
