The Roommate Pact

by Allison Ashley

Then, he said, “You look nice.” She paused, ignoring the single butterfly that had the nerve to take flight behind her bellybutton.

“A ship is safe in the harbor, but that’s not what ships are made for.”

As it was, I just lurked in the hallway like a creeper with little hearts for eyes.

“Mmmkay. But can we make out first? Just a little.” He brushed his lips against her hair. “Sure. But I have to ask. Is it my fifth-place wrestling trophy or the photo montage of my good looks from first through twelfth grade turning you on?”

“You know what else will clear your head? Alcohol.” “I don’t think that’s how that works.” Reagan laughed. “But it will temporarily make you feel better while simultaneously guaranteeing you’ll feel like shit tomorrow.”