A debate is a game. There is always a winner and a loser. This is why I don’t debate. Sonia sees things differently. She never loses. “What’s up?” My roommate slammed into my bedroom so hard that the door hit the wall. Another ding in the plaster. I shoved the dirty book I was reading under my pillow, but Sonia didn’t even look my way. She was already pacing. I kept quiet about the fact that she’d entered my room without knocking. Sonia loves to make an entrance, which means that she rarely ever knocks. “The fucking bastard.” I stared at her, curious. I’d never seen her like this before. Well, that’s not entirely true. Sonia’s hot-tempered. She gets all riled up during debates about war in the Middle East or why tofurkey is the wonder food. But this was different. Her cheeks were flushed a bright fuchsia and her dark espresso-hued eyes looked huge and wild.
