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“I don’t have time to mess with my hair,” I said awkwardly.

“Every girl has time to mess with her hair,” Ivy rebutted.

“Maybe I just don’t care what people think.”

“It isn’t about what other people think,” she said. “It’s about the way you feel. Being put together on the outside makes you feel better on the inside.”

I couldn’t really argue with her because I didn’t know if she was right. I hadn’t bothered with my appearance in so long I didn’t know what it would feel like to actually try.

Ivy wandered over to her side of the room and sprayed something on her hands and then worked it through my hair. She divided it into two sections and started braiding the length of it. It made me think of when I was a little girl and my mother used to braid my hair.

A thick lump formed in my throat and I sipped at my coffee, trying to make it dissolve.

When Ivy was done, she stepped back and looked at her handiwork. “Much better.”

I got up and went to the mirror. It was a little unsettling to see myself this way. She styled my hair in pigtail braids, but it didn’t look juvenile. She somehow managed to make them look thick and bouncy. The unbraided ends curled out around the hair bands and fell against my chest. The top was side-parted and had a little bit of height at the crown, and a few short pieces at my hairline curled against my forehead. The style seemed to draw attention to the shape of my face, and my glasses didn’t take over my eyes. Added with the clothes that actually fit and a pair of boots that didn’t appear lumpy, I actually looked like all the other college girls that walked around campus.

Without the makeup, of course. I wasn’t even going to bother with that stuff. Not today anyway.

“Thanks,” I told Ivy, still looking at my transformed hair.

She didn’t reply, and that’s when I noticed the utter silence. Ivy was standing there beside my bed with the Alpha hoodie in her hands. I must have been sitting on it and when I got up, it caught her eye.

She was holding it out and staring at something. Her reaction was a little odd. I mean, it was just a hoodie. She couldn’t possibly know where I got it.

Still clutching the sweatshirt in her hands, Ivy looked up. “How did you get Romeo’s football hoodie?” Her voice was hushed, like I’d committed some heinous crime.

“How did you know it was Romeo’s?” I asked, slightly uncomfortable.

She held it out to me so I could see the back, his name and number in plain sight.

Oh. Would have been nice if I’d noticed that. A little bit of shock rippled through me as well. I mean, he obviously knew it had his name and number on the back, yet he still told me to keep it. He told me to wear it. He acted as if he wanted people to see it.

“Rimmel!” Ivy demanded.

I glanced up. “What?”

“You have Romeo’s football hoodie on your bed. Explain!”

“Oh. Um, I got cold at tutoring.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. I had. Besides, I had no idea what to say.

“The douche you’re tutoring is Romeo Anderson?” she exclaimed. “Why didn’t you tell me!” she burst out.

I started to answer, but she was pacing and then jerked to a halt and cut me off to say, “That explains the BuzzFeed and why Romeo is suddenly hanging out at the library.”

Then she gasped.

I jerked because it was so dramatic.

“Ohmigod!” she rushed out in one breath. “You’re the mystery girl in the Hellcat.”

Damn BuzzFeed.

“Well!” she demanded again. All traces of her utter exhaustion were long gone. “Say something!”

“Oh, I didn’t realize I was part of the conversation,” I muttered.

“Rimmel.” Her eyes narrowed. Then they widened again. “Is that why you were worrying about your clothes? You like him!”

I started shaking my head furiously.

“Yes!” she demanded. Then she glanced down at his hoodie still clutched in her paws. I had the sudden urge to snatch it from her. “Does he like you, too?”

I snorted as my stomach flipped over. I thought about the kisses, about how he crawled in through the window just hours before. If Ivy knew he’d been here in this room, she’d probably collapse. “I highly doubt it,” I said and gently pulled the hoodie from her hands. “And the clothes are just because I got tired of tripping and falling over all my baggy stuff.”

She gave me a pitiful look. “It sucks to like someone who doesn’t like you back.”

“Yeah,” I said, her words piercing my heart. I wish they didn’t hurt, but they did. And so did the look in her eyes. She felt sorry for me. Like she knew there was no way in hell he could ever like me. It’s like she thought he’d given me his hoodie out of pity.

Ivy was watching me closely. I could feel her penetrating gaze. I turned away and grabbed my bag. It was still a little early for class, but I didn’t care. This room was stifling.

“Hey,” she called out as I reached for the door.

My hands tightened around Romeo’s hoodie. I hadn’t planned to bring it with me, but the thought of leaving it here with her made me sick.

“Yeah?”

“You going to the game Saturday night?”

“Do I ever?” I asked. Truth was I did plan on going because Romeo asked me to. I just planned to sit where no one would notice me.

“You should come. Me and Missy are going.” Her eyes sparkled. “She’s dating Braeden. He’s on the team too.”

I nodded.

“You know him?” She seemed surprised all over again.

“I’ve met him.”

She nodded easily. “Well, yeah, definitely come. You can sit with us. It’ll be fun.”

Suspicion overcame me. I didn’t like feeling that way, but I couldn’t ignore it. “Why would you want me to come with you?”

The question caught her off guard and she looked up. “I thought we were friends.”

Friends.

“Yeah,” I said, stuffing down the unexpected emotion that burned up the back of my throat. “Sure. I’ll sit with you at the game.”

She gave me a wide smile and waved. “Awesome. Now I better hit the showers. It’s going to take a long time to fix all this.” She gestured to herself and stuck out her tongue.

It was colder outside than I expected. I thought for sure once the sun was up it would chase away the worst of the autumn chill. It seemed that more leaves had fallen to the ground overnight and people shuffled through them on the sidewalks, rustling sounds filling the air. My cheeks stung a little as the breeze blew and bit into them.

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