Page 226 of Small Town Firsts

“Yeah, I am. Just tell me where to go.”

“Didn’t you luck out?” she asks as I pull back onto the road. “A bomb-ass roomie and your own personal very local tour guide.”

“Oh. My. God.”Stella pops the last of her pretzel into her mouth. “I swear, they put crack in the cinnamon. There’s no other explanation.”

“That good, huh?” I ask as I toss my trash.

“Girl. You’ll have to try one next time. You’ll never get that salty garbage again.”

“I happen to like my salty garbage, thank you very much.”

“Yeah, yeah. Well, we all have our flaws.”

I can’t help but laugh at her antics. Stella is a breath of fresh air and exactly what my life has been missing for the last nine months. Hell, probably longer, seeing as all of the people I thought were my friends were the first to turn on me when shit hit the fan.

“You mind if I grab a few things?” I ask.

“Girl, first thing you need to know about me? I will never say no to a Target run. This is my literal happy place.”

I grin. My former friends wouldn’t be caught dead shopping at Target. Yep, Stella is everything I’ve been missing and more.

We each grab a shopping cart and, through some unspoken agreement, head toward the homesection of the store.

“What all do you need?” I ask as we peruse the aisles.

“Need?” Stella spins in a wide circle before turning down the next aisle. “I don’t know, but Target will tell me. Trust the bullseye.”

I roll my lips inward to keep from laughing. “If you say so.”

“I know so! It’s like, science, or something.”

“Or something,” I snort, tossing a basic white duvet insert into my cart.

“Trust the process, Emmy. Trust the process.”

“You’re crazy.” A giggle punctuates my words.

“The best people are.”

For the next half hour, we continue up and down the aisles, stopping when something catches our attention, until our carts are full.

Stella’s is a mishmash of things, while mine is loaded down with essentials, since I came to Georgia with nothing more than a single bag of clothing, my phone, and beloved laptop.

Oh, and Oreos—but those are essential for me.

“Are you going to any of the Welcome Week events?” Stella asks as we load our bags into the trunk.

“I don’t know.” I shrug. “I read online you should, but...”

“But nothing! Personally, I plan on hitting up the ice cream social tonight.”

“I do like ice cream.”

“Perfect. We’ll go together.”

And just like that, I have plans with a friend on my first night at college.

CHAPTER 4

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