Austin lights up like a damn kid at Christmas, throwing a playful punch at my shoulder. “Finally! Let’s get you outta that dry spell.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
He lets out a scoff, tapping me on my back. “Please. You think I can’t tell when someone’s so backed up they’re walking around like a damn statue?” He gives me a once-over, tilting his head. “Your right arm’s looking a little too swole, man. Dead giveaway.”
I shake my head, giving him a shove. “You’re a fucking idiot.”
He laughs, undeterred, swinging his bag over his head. “You’ll thank me later, Cap. Trust me, the team’ll play better with you a little less… wound up.”
I snort, grabbing my bag. “I’m not thanking you for this.”
Austin winks, already halfway out the door. “You will.”
I roll my eyes, but a laugh escapes me anyway.
Guess I’ll find out tonight.
2
ISABELLA
My arms are going to fall off.
How I thought bringing every single thing I own with me was a good idea, I’ll never know.
I suck in a sharp breath, hoisting my suitcase up the last ten steps of this never-ending staircase from hell, groaning like a dying animal when I finally reach the top.
Holy fuck.
And to think this is only half of my stuff. I’m lucky Dad’s bringing the rest up, because if I had to do this again, I’d be calling it quits on higher education. Not being dramatic, either. I’m pretty sure my lungs have reached full capacity.
Dragging my suitcase down the packed dorm hallway, I scan the numbers for 208, dodging stacks of cardboard boxes and the occasional human speed-walking with their parents trailing behind like lost puppies.
I can feel my curls frizzing up from the sweat on my scalp. If I had known move-in day was going to be a full-body workout, I wouldn’t have wasted a hair wash this morning. That was premium shampoo, too. Devastating.
Room 206. Room 207.
208.
Finally.
I stop at the door, sucking in a deep breath before pushing it open.
Inside, my eyes land on, who I’m guessing is my roommate, balancing on her tiptoes, one hand pressing the last corner of a band poster onto her wall while the other clutches a can of soda.
Priorities.
My eyes drift over her long blonde hair and the short black playsuit that makes her legs look endless. She hums along to soft pop rock playing from her phone, taking a sip of her drink. Her gaze flicks down to me, her brows lifting before her lips curve into a grin.
“Hey, you must be my new roommate.” She pauses, her brows tugging together. “Unless you want to switch rooms.” She shakes her head before I can respond. “In that case, not fucking doing it. I don’t care if your roommate has sleep apnea and needs a machine, I’m not?—”
“No, I’m your roommate,” I confirm with a laugh.
She relaxes, flashing me a smile as she hops down from her bed, and holy shit, her legs don’t just look endless—they are. I’m not short by any means at 5’6”, but this girl has to be at least 5’10”.
“Isabella, right?” she asks, cocking her head.
I nod, dropping both of my suitcases on the ground. “Yeah, that’s me.”
