Page 66 of Unloved

CHAPTER 25Freddy

We end up at the dorms after Ro gets a text from Sadie that she won’t be home.

She doesn’t tell me exactly what the text says, which only bothers me because I cantellit’s bothering her.

Protectiveness has never been my thing—with friends or girls. Clearly, I’ve never been good at taking care of them. But with Ro, the budding friendship I have with her feels important. Andthat, I’m protective over.

Every light in their apartment-style dorm is off, but the TV plays music, currently “Young Folks” by Peter Bjorn and John at a medium volume. Ro walks in first, flicking on the mismatched lamps on their tables by the couch.

I follow her lead, sitting after she prompts me with one of the floor pillows on the pallet they’ve clearly constructed. She’s still standing, looking around nervously, before darting back into the kitchen area.

“Want some wine?” she asks, grinning as she reaches and pulls down two multicolored glasses.

“Sure.”

She pours from a bottle of white wine out of the fridge, carefully setting both glasses on the low coffee table and opening one of the pizza boxes on the floor.

I raise my cup. “To 1995’s best pizza in Massachusetts!”

I’m rewarded with an open, happy laugh that feels like the first rays of summer sun warming my body.

We clink our glasses together as she repeats my toast before we chat quietly and enjoy the food.

“So,” I say, polishing off my fourth slice of pizza, still on my first glass of wine. She steals one of my crusts from the pile I made her after lying about hating the crusts, and dunks it in the garlic sauce. “I may have grabbed us a surprise so we can both complete our ‘never have I ever’ task.”

Her hazel eyes twinkle, bright in the lamplight as we sit on the piles of pillows and blankets pulled down from the couch over the carpeted floor.

“What is it?”

I pull out the two colorful prizes from the machine from where I tucked them earlier, before grinning and juggling them lightly in my hand.

“Temporary tattoos.”

Her smile is near blinding.

“What are they of?”

“Didn’t look,” I say, and shrug. “Figure we could choose at random and put them on each other.”

“Really? You’d do it, too?”

I crinkle my brow. “I’m not letting you have all the fun without me, princess. Now, come on. Pick.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, she grabs for the purple one, leaving the green plastic ball in my hand.

She pops it open to reveal a crown tattoo, silver and sparkly.

“Perfect,” I laugh, reaching for it. “A crown for a princess.”

She rolls her eyes at the tease but bumps my shoulder with hers. “What did you get?”

It’s amazing how free she seems. More than I’ve seen her before. Granted, she’s nearly polished off her second glass of wine, but she’s soft and smiley—not drunk. Calm and relaxed.

A version of Ro I don’t think I’ve ever seen.

I pop the lid on mine, sighing and shaking my head at the little tattoo in there.

“I can’t,” I groan. “I’ll never hear the end of it.”

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