GETTING INTO UCLA had been a dream come true.

I never thought I'd be in a position where I'd be able to get a job straight out of college, but it's my junior year, and I'm so close. I'll assemble my portfolio to showcase my work to different fashion companies, and three jobs can turn into one. I'll finally make a living without working myself to the bone.

On the first day of the new semester, the weather is shitty. It's cold and raining, and I forgot to put my rain boots on, so water seeped into my athletic sneakers. Thankfully, Everett's townhouse is only a twenty-minute walk, much better than taking the train across town like I used to.

"Emery!" Lana launches herself at me from across the courtyard, hugging me tightly. She's all of a hundred pounds soaking wet, tiny as can be, and the rain makes her look even smaller. "I'm so glad we're back! How was your break?"

Awful. Horrible. Miserable. Launching into a story about my eviction will make her Pisces little heart try to do whatever she can to help me, but she lives in a dorm with three other girls, and she could risk getting kicked out if she let me stay with her. If she knew I had been evicted, she would have risked getting expelled, and I couldn't let her do that.

"I worked a bunch," I reply, which isn't a lie. "How about yours?"

We seek cover in the art building, avoiding all the freshmen staring at maps to find their day's first class. "It was amazing. I flew home to Texas and got to spend time with my family. I missed them way more than I thought I did. I was totally homesick."

Family. What a treasure to cherish. What a flex it is to have people who love you unconditionally. I've spent the last ten years trying to fill that gaping hole in my chest. First my parents, then my grandmother. There is no greater pain than knowing unconditional love and having it ripped away.

Lana leads her way up the staircase, her red curls bouncing with every step. She continues to tell stories of her adventures at home, weaving our way through the thick crowd of students. When we reach the floor we're supposed to be on, Sam is waiting for us at the top, tapping his watch. "You're both late," he says with a roll of his eyes.

"We are not late, Sam. Your version of late and the school's version of late are two different things." If it were up to him, he'd get to class thirty minutes early every day to ensure he picked the best seat for the semester. He's the most studious person, beating me by a long shot.

"And I had to get coffee." Lana waves the foam cup in front of him. "It's freezing outside."

"Whatever," he grumbles, shaking his cropped, black hair still carrying rain droplets. "Let's just hope all the good seats aren't taken."

We follow his tall figure down the hallway, where, unsurprisingly, the students are outside, still waiting for the professor. I almost tease Sam about it, but Everett is among the students, and just seeing him has me gritting my teeth.

I knew we were going to school for the same degree, art and design, but we've been able to avoid each other for the entirety of our college experience. Of course, due to my bad fucking luck, this would be the semester we both have to take digital design. The one semester I have to be fucking living with the guy.

We still haven't spoken since his outburst last night. He was gone when I went downstairs this morning, but a sausage, egg, and cheese english muffin was sitting on a plate waiting for me. It should have been taken as a nice gesture, but instead...all I felt was guilt. I'm assuming he knows I can't afford groceries. I don't want him to think he needs to feed me. Once I get my next paycheck, I can go shopping. Then he won't have to worry about me being broke and starving.

He's wearing a pair of black jeans, a long-sleeved henley with a raincoat over the top, and a pair of expensive sneakers on his feet that probably cost more than a goddamn car while scrolling effortlessly through his phone.

He's oblivious to the three girls in front of him giggling like we're back in middle school. Then again, Everett has always been naive to female attention. I may have called him arrogant yesterday, but that's only because he should be. His jawline is chiseled to perfection, and he's got the bad boy persona down with the nose and eyebrow piercing. The man practically exudes sex.

"Emeryyy." Sam waves his hand in front of my face to snap me out of my trance, but Everett lifts his eyes from his phone at the sound of my name. He scans Sam from head to toe, then me, and he goes back to texting without saying hello.

I don't know why I thought he'd be nicer to me because we live under the same roof now. I need to start lowering my expectations quickly.

"Good morning, everyone," the professor says, giving me an excuse not to answer Sam. He unlocks the classroom door with a set of keys, and as we all file in, I see names taped to each computer with a Post-it note. You've got to be kidding me.

As I've mentioned, luck has never been on my side, so I'm entirely unsurprised when Everett's name is taped directly next to mine. Thankfully, Sam is on my other side, but Lana gets placed across the room, away from all of us. A far cry from being lab partners in freshmen year, where the three of us met and sat beside each other four times a week.

Reluctantly, I take my seat as Everett wedges in beside me, his body brushing against mine. He clears his throat as he takes out his notebook and a pen and says, "You're wet."

A wave of saliva gets caught in my throat, and I go into a coughing fit, a hand flying to my chest to get it to stop. "I'm sorry?" I ask.

He waves a hand up and down my body. "Your clothes. They're soaked."

Oh.

Well, that's a relief.

With a shrug, I sling my backpack across the back of the rolling chair. "I had to walk to campus and forgot to check the weather. It's LA. Didn't expect it to rain."

"What happened to your car?"

"My grandmother's beat up Pontiac she left me? It broke down a year ago. I had to sell it for cash. Couldn't afford another one."

"Rest in peace to Bernie," Sam adds, eavesdropping our conversation. "I loved that damn piece of crap. So many memories."

Whatever Everett is thinking, he doesn't express it verbally. Instead, he shifts away from me and stares straight ahead at the professor with his jaw clenched, tapping the eraser of his pencil heavily against his notebook.

"I'm Sam." He sticks out his hand in front of me in an attempt to fist-bump Everett.

Everett looks at his outstretched hand and then zeroes his gaze on him. "Cool. Don't care."

God, he's such an asshole. I swear, he acts like it would kill him to be nice to anyone. In annoyance, I cross my arms over my chest as Sam returns his hand to his side. There will be a streamlining of Sam's questions about how I know Everett, but I'll avoid answering as much as humanly possible.

Yeah, we grew up together, but I don't know him. Everett wouldn't let me get to know him. While hanging out with Liam and him, I learned the basics. His favorite food, hobbies, etc... But the personal stuff? The layers underneath all of the brooding? That part I didn't even want to begin to uncover. A part of me is afraid of what I'll find.

"What a dick," Sam whispers, but it's loud enough for Everett to hear.

The professor begins the lesson, and a smile tugs at my lips when Everett curses under his breath.

Author's Note:

How are you guys enjoying the story so far?!

We're doing soooo good with the votes, but there are hardly any line comments :(

With that being said, 150 votes & 75 (non-spam) comments for the next chapter. Can you do it??? :)

Twitter: believeeexoxo
Instagram: deannafaison_
Tiktok: authordeannafaison