Page 47 of Walk the Line

“Sorry?”

“Do you like to eat?”

Putting my whiplash aside, I respond with a “Yes…?”

“I’m gonna send you options categorised by cuisine, you just need to choose one.”

I pause. “You’ve lost me completely.”

“We’re going out to eat, girl. As a thank you.”

Wait, what?

“Was this…was I present when we decided this?”

She raises a brow. “Would you have said yes if I asked you?”

“Um…”

“Exactly, so I’m not asking.”

“But what if I don’t want to go?”

Yeah, this is the kind of stuff I need to not say.

“Then tell me you don’t want to go.” I think about the opportunity that’s before me, knowing that it would be silly to decline an offer of…friendship? When that’s one thing I probably desperately need. My silence seems to speak enough volumes for Jalissa to continue with, “See, nothing. In that case, like I said, I’m gonna send you options so just choose your favourite, then we’re going. Aww, this should be cute!”

“Do you just do that with people?”

“Well, this is uni, and a lot of people are shy. I’m not, so if I feel like I want to be friends with someone, I’m gonna tell you that we’re going out, you’re going to pretend you don’t want to, we’re gonna do it anyway and you’re gonna have a good time because not gonna lie, I’m fun. Then we’ll be good friends.”

She definitely has a personality that’s directly opposite mine. I don’t know how much of it I’ll be able to take and vice versa, but I still say, “I guess you could send me those options.”

“Oh, I was gonna do that anyway. But yeah I’ll text you them at some point today.”

I nod. “Fine.”

She turns towards the direction of the door. “Amazing, thanks again!” She skips to the front door leaving me wondering if maybe, just maybe, this university experience will be different.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

JULIUS

“Where the parties at tonight?”

I throw a look to the opposite side of the room. “Shut up, bro, we’re not going to a party.”

My brother cuts me an unimpressed look, which is in stark contrast to the smile always on his face.

After him enjoying the few times he came to visit me last year, I wasn’t surprised when he let me know he wanted to do the same again this year. He’s happy with his choice to not go university because we both know it was the best thing for him, but I can see why he would still want to experience a bit of it.

“Who doesn’t take their guest to a party?” he asks.

“You’re a child.”

“I’m eighteen years old! I’m literally an adult.”

“Yeah, you really sound like one right now.”