Shattered Rose (Winsor Series) - By T L Gray Page 0,2

lip and the back of it, the top lip. The fuzzy upholstery probably came complete with a lint brush. My laughter echoed in the room as I wondered which roommate purchased that thing.

I sat down on the lips, rubbing my hands over the fabric, and realized how much it clashed with my own style—simple and relatively plain. I had an unhealthy affection for solid colors and was rarely seen in anything other than jeans and a t-shirt or running attire.

I glanced over to the kitchen. It was pretty standard—white appliances and Formica countertops. No dining table, but at least we had a bar.

The apartment wasn’t large, so it was pretty easy to find the room marked C. The other two bedrooms were shut, but that was probably a good thing. Snooping in someone’s room was not the best way to make a good first impression.

I unlocked my door and could swear I stepped right back into the dorm. The walls were cinderblock and painted white. A small double bed was pushed against the far wall, and a petite dresser and desk sat to my left. The entrance to the bathroom was on the right. I smiled. It was quant…shower, sink, and toilet, but it was all mine. I inched to the window to see if my luck continued, and it did. In front of me were two large trees parted just enough to see the sun glistening off the campus lake. I pulled up the blinds to let the sun fill my room and basked in my good fortune. I was happier and healthier than I had been in years.

Grabbing my cell phone, I plopped on my bed, and dialed my best friend. I had known Cara since middle school, and she was one of the few people in the world I trusted. All through high school we had planned to go to the University of Georgia together. The campus was located only a few hours from our hometown. However, part of me always knew I wanted to get out of Georgia and try something new. When my Winsor scholarship came through, the decision was pretty easy to make. Distance didn’t seem to affect our closeness, though…I guess kindred spirits are designed that way.

“Hello?”

“Guess where I am?” I asked, my voice giving away the answer.

“Um, could it be your new apartment? Or have you come to your senses, decided we had way too much fun this summer and have transferred to UGA?”

“I wish. Tell the administration to give me an alumni scholarship, and I’m there.” That wasn’t entirely true, but I had learned with people that sometimes less is more, and I rarely let anyone know exactly what I was thinking…even Cara.

“Anyway, Yes, I am in my new room, complete with my very own bathroom. I also got a room overlooking the lake. Someone seriously needs to pinch me. Oh, you would not believe the loveseat in the living room. I’m going to text you a picture as soon as we get off the phone.”

“Sounds lovely. So, have you met any hot neighbors who are just dying to help you move all your stuff in…without shirts on of course?” she teased.

“You are officially boy crazy. No, in fact I haven’t met anyone yet, not even my new roommate.”

“Are you nervous? I mean, are you feeling anything we should talk about?”

I wasn’t surprised Cara asked me that question. I had had some struggles peak last year, and let the pressure of maintaining my grades get the best of me. In a moment of full disclosure, I opted to tell Cara about my issues, but had since wondered if sharing had been a mistake.

“Cara, I’m fine. I haven’t even thought about it. You don’t need to worry.” I was lying, but didn’t want to start a long conversation about decisions that weren’t even a factor today. Today was all about the future…not the past.

“Ok, but I do worry, and I want you to know I’m here for you if it becomes a temptation again. You got it?” She was stern, but I knew it was because she cared. I felt very lucky to have a friend like her.

“I got it. I promise. Ok, I have to go. I left all my things in the car, and it’s going to get dark soon. I’ll call you later.” I pressed END on my cell phone and headed back out the door.

Seven trips later, I was pulling the last box out of my car, the

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