Page 6 of Into the Shadows

I create a new contact entry and add my email address. I just barely stop myself from giving her my number. I’m not sure what I’d do if I had easy access to talk to her. What I do know is that she’s young and has her whole life ahead of her. I’m not about to interrupt that.

“I probably won’t be able to check my inbox very often, especially once I’ve shipped out, but send me a note if you want to.”

“I will. Bye, Teddy.” Lottie leans in, presses a kiss to my cheek, and steps back just as quickly. Then she turns around and starts walking away.

I do the only smart thing I can. I start my bike and ride far away from the most tempting girl I’ve met in a long time.

Chapter 3

Lottie

Twenty-one years old

“You're going.” Gia leans against the doorframe of my bedroom with her arms crossed over her chest. Her mulish expression says she means business. There's no way I’ll get out of this, but I try anyway.

“I’m really not in the mood, G.” I turn back to my open textbooks on my desk.

“I don't care. It’s your twenty-first birthday. We are going out.” Gia walks through my room and opens my closet.

I know what she’ll find. Simple, plain outfits, a couple of office casual ensembles, and not a single going-out shirt, dress, or the like. It's not something I’m all that fond of doing.

The past three years at UNC have been spent studying, studying, and studying some more. The journalism program has been more difficult than I anticipated, mostly because I'm not sure it's what I actually want to do. I like researching stories, finding new sources, and procuring the best leads, but the act of either writing an article or going on camera to report about it is where I've been struggling.

I had all these lofty ideals about becoming a journalist fora small news program or our town newspaper. I’d even been willing to get a job in Greensboro for the local nightly news station.

Now, when I'm a year and a half away from graduating, I’m second-guessing all the decisions I've made thus far. Perhaps Gia is right. Maybe I do need to go out and let loose. Ignoring all my problems isn’t the healthiest idea, but here we are.

“Absolutely not,” I tell Gia as she tries to pull out my slinky black dress. I bought it on a whim for no other reason than I liked it. I felt sexy and confident when I tried it on, but I have yet to find the confidence to wear it.

Gia drops the garment onto my bed. “You're wearing it, and I'm not taking no for an answer.”

“Consent, Gia. It's all the rage now.”

She rolls her eyes, stepping over to my dresser.

“No.” I grab her hand before she can pull my underwear drawer open. “It's one thing for you to pick out my outfit. You are not picking out my underwear too.”

Gia grins at me. “What if you get laid? You're going to want something pretty to wear.”

“That is not going to happen.” What she doesn't know is that it's never happened. She thinks I lost my V-card to one of the guys I dated when I first got to college. In all actuality, he was gay and not ready to come out yet, and I was tired of everyone asking if I was dating anyone, so we teamed up to pretend we were together.

A few months later, when we were more comfortable with our new friends, we had an amicable split. It was perfect.

It also made Gia stop asking if I was still hung up on the guy I only spent three hours with years ago. After that, I could relax into my new life at college.

“I’ll wear the dress, but you are not picking out my underwear.Now go.” I shove her in the back to push her toward the door.

I make quick work of my outfit, brush out my brown hair, and throw on a little makeup. I wouldn't normally bother, but G would never let me leave the house without at least putting on mascara.

I grab my phone and house keys and meet Gia at the front door. We split the rent with two other girls we met at the library. I don’t love living with girls I barely know, but they’re decent roommates. We don’t have petty fights over whose food is whose or bathroom time. All the nightmare roommate stories made me nervous to move in, but we got lucky.

The ride downtown is quick, and ten minutes later, Gia drags me inside the bar. The noise is deafening as we walk through the doors. It’s one of the many reasons why I hate going out.

With my temporary paper ID in hand, we move to the bar to order drinks. Gia’s hips wiggle to the beat playing over the speakers while she silently flirts with the bartender.

I have no idea what I would do without her, even when she’s driving me crazy. I wouldn’t have adjusted to college life without Gia by my side, that’s for sure. There's a good chance I would have transferred to the community college in Westlake, the next town over from Sonoma.

If I’d done that, I wouldn’t have been able to follow my dreams of becoming a journalist. Granted, I'm not entirely sure that’s what I want anymore.

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