Life of Ives ✔️

Three

IVES

My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out to see a text from Josie.

From Josie 

911. Our room NOW.

I put my tray away, pick up my bag and then I rush out of the cafeteria. What can be so bad on the first day that she texts me 911?

I rush into our dorm and up the stairs, and I'm completely out of breath as I enter our room to find Josie sitting in the middle of our floor with her head in her hands. Her clothes are scattered everywhere, and I mean everywhere. Even under my bed.

"What's wrong?" I ask, and sit down in front of her.

I pull her hands away from her face and look at her red cheeks.

"I'm a mess. I'm a freaking mess, Ives. Grayson asked if I wanted to grab a cup of coffee at lunch, and that's in just an hour!" she exclaims throwing her hands up into the air.

"Wait, you got me to run all the way from the cafeteria for a boy?" I ask her in disbelief.

Really? I could have walked for a boy.

"Aww... You ran?" she says and she pulls me into a hug. "That's so sweet of you."

"Yeah, okay, but why is this a 911? You couldn't stop talking about how Grayson looked at you yesterday, you said it was, and I quote, 'disgusting'," I say as I make air-quotes with my fingers at the word.

She pulls away from me and sighs heavily.

"I know, I just... After you told me that he helped you get me back here last night I kind of changed my mind, and then he sent me a message on Instagram asking how I felt today. He took the effort to find me on Instagram, Ives!"

I smile a little at her tiny story. It was actually very sweet of him to do that.

"Alright. So, you need help to get ready for a date, or?" I ask her.

She nods and looks at me with her big, blue eyes.

I sigh.

"Okay, I'll help," I say and look around on the floor around us. "If it's a coffee date it's probably casual."

We go through a couple of different outfits before we settle on a pair of high-waisted, burgundy pants and a flowery blouse with the same burgundy in some of the flowers. It looks amazing, and it makes her bust stand out like crazy, just like you would want when you're meeting a guy you like. Or at least, think you like? I don't know anymore, but she seems excited about it.

I then help her get her amazingly soft and shiny brown hair into a braided bun. I'd never done that before, but she was a great teacher and it ended up looking really good, actually. I guess she being beautiful at the get-go had a lot to do with it.

She finished her look off with a pale, pink lipgloss and some mascara. She looks effortlessly beautiful and ready to conquer the world as our new queen. She would win first place in any beauty contest, and here I am with my own shoulder-length hair that is long overdue a touch-up on the balayage. My hair was naturally a just a few shades lighter than Josie's, but I liked having the ends lighter. My brother always said I didn't suit being blonde, but it's not his choice. That's part of the reason why I like being blonde.

My hair is also naturally the same color as my mom's. So I bleach it.

"Can you come with me?" Josie then asks me, and I look up at her with furrowed brows.