Rivals (Rivals #1-2) by Piper Lawson

Author:Piper Lawson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THREE

After the assembly, I head to my room to grab my bag for class.

But as I get to the top of the stairs and glance down the hall, I realize my door is ajar. What the…?

I push it wide.

Inside is a girl with long, dark hair up in a giant topknot. She has on Beats headphones, and she’s brought a backpack and a single trunk that’s wedged at the end of the second bed that’s been untouched since I moved in yesterday.

“Hey,” I volunteer. “I’m Annie. I guess we’re roommates.”

The girl doesn’t answer or take off her headphones but reaches for an earpiece to touch a button.

“Are you Raegan Madani?” I try again. This time, she cuts a glance over her shoulder.

“Rae.”

According to the scant roommate info form that included names, contact emails, and majors, she’s in contemporary music like me.

Rae opens her backpack, takes out a bunch of tiny figures, and sets them on the top of her headboard. They’re little knitted dolls with yarn hair.

Before I can ask, Rae pulls something else out of her bag. “In or out?” she asks.

When I don’t respond, she grabs a clean shirt, twists it into a roll, and lays it along the bottom of the door.

My eyes widen as she lights the joint.

“I’ve heard stories of students getting expelled for less. It would be awesome if you could do that outside.”

Rae heaves out a sigh. “Whatever.” She grabs her keys off her desk and brushes past me.

Shit. I’m not here to make friends, but I don’t want to commit social suicide on day one either. From the look Rae tosses me as she heads down the hall, my new roomie might as soon push me in front of a subway as ride it with me.

“Nice meeting you!” I call as I grab my things, then lock up.

With the help of the map on my phone, I find my way on the subway over to the Columbia campus for my first class.

The excitement that’s been missing since running into Tyler this morning slowly returns, giving my step extra bounce.

“I haven’t seen you since the weekend!” Pen wraps me in her arms when we spot one another outside our lecture hall, and I hug her back. “It sucked we came in on the same flight only to go different directions at the airport,” she accuses.

“Gah, I know. I’m sorry.”

“Whatever. Gotta pursue your dreams, right? Anyway, glad you made it early so we can grab coffee. There’s a café in the same building as our lecture.”

We head into the building, and she steers me toward a line of students in front of a counter.

Pen and I scored the same sociology section. I have that, plus English, at Columbia on Tuesday and Thursday. Their campus is only a quick subway ride away, and Vanier has some deal with them so Vanier can focus on arts education while still producing well-rounded grads.

“My clothes don’t fit in my room,” she goes on. “I might have gone overboard now that we don’t have uniforms.

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