Chapter 8

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A few weeks later, Keefe comes over. Our dorm looks so great! My room has a carpet with flowers, and my bedspread is white with gold lining. Fairy lights decorate the ceiling, and we hung flower hooks for our book bags. I have a huge mirror, and a small vanity in the corner. My bookshelf is white, too. Keefe and I have become much  better friends, with him walking with me to class and hanging out every day.

The living room has a tv with a pale beige couch, a light pink carpet, and purple beanbags. 

I smile because college is finally starting to feel like home.

I hear a knock on the door, so I jump up to see Keefe walk in without even waiting for me to say, 'come in.'

He has this intensity in his eyes, like he came here for a reason.

"Hey, Keefe," I say, uncertainty tinting my voice.

"I can't wait anymore." He says, and my eyebrows scrunch together.

"What?" I ask.

"I just can't." He walks toward me, him towering over me, and he clashes his lips against mine. I smile and wrap my arms around his neck.

"Well, it finally happened," Marella says sarcastically. I glare at her and chuck a pillow at her face.

"Shut up," I say, and press my lips agains Keefe's once again. And it feels right.

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