Let’s go to a party.” I cringed. I hated that stupid nickname. But when I tried to tell Melissa to stop using it, she only used it more. Lately she’d become enamored with the idea I was her little underling. She also seemed to find it funny to pretend to choke me. Yesterday Ian had gone around our building with a Polaroid camera to take pictures of everyone for the lounge. Just before he snapped ours, she wrapped her arms around my neck. Tightly. In the picture she’s smiling like a crazy person and I’m sitting in my desk chair looking like I can’t breathe. Ian had shaken the photo to develop it, frowned at the result. “Unfortunately we only have enough film for one picture a room.” He shot me an apologetic look before moving on to the next person. “I’m not really in the mood,” I said now, not looking up from my textbook. “It’s going to be super fun. A guy in the drama program told me about it and I don’t want to go alone.” “Maybe ask Carly.” “I want you to come.
