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of a killer hangover, I’m going to guess that she’s in disagreement.
    “You’re down to thirty minutes now.  Tick tock, tick tock.”  I set a big glass of water and two acetaminophen tablets on the table beside her bed.  “Take the pills and guzzle the water.  It’ll help.”  Because honestly, it can’t hurt at this point. The only good thing I have to say about Brooklyn this morning is that the girl can definitely hold her liquor. I thought for sure when I’d texted her last night to meet me outside the house and then proceeded to carry her drunk ass home, that she would be puking all over the place.
    Much to my pleasant surprise, that hadn’t turned out to be the case.  Nor had she died of alcohol poisoning either.  So, win-win in my book.
    Ignoring me, she grumbles, “I think you’d be a much happier person if you got laid once in a while.  Just something to consider.”
    “I’m already a perfectly happy person.”  My sunny disposition nosedives at her words.  Yeah, I tried that trick last year… it hadn’t worked out so well for me.
    After ten more minutes of trying to cajole Brooklyn from her bed, she finally, rather reluctantly pulls the pillows and blankets off her face before blinking at the harsh sunlight pouring in through the large bank of eastern facing windows.  She covers her eyes with a hand as if the bright light might actually scorch her retinas.  “You’re a horrible person for forcing me to get up when I feel like such crap.”
    My eyes slide over the little bit of her I can now see.  Her long blonde hair is in total disarray.  Her skin is waxy looking instead of the enviable creamy glow it usually has.  Actually, she’s looking a little green around the gills.  “Well, if it’s any consolation, you look just as bad as you feel.”
    “Bitch,” she mutters again.
    Completely unaffected by her new pet name for me, I shrug.  “Alright then, I’m off.”  Wrapping a turquoise scarf around my neck, I grab my oversized messenger bag and sunglasses before heading out.  “See you later, alligator.”  Just as I’m about to close the door, I whip it open before poking my head back inside, “Get your lazy ass out of bed right now,” I bellow at the top of my lungs.
    In answer, she hurtles one of her hot pink pillows at the door.  It falls pathetically short of its mark.  By about five feet.  I shake my head at such an embarrassingly sad attempt.
    “Has anyone ever told you that you have really shitty aim?”  Because it’s completely true.  A future softball competitor, she is not. It’s doubtful she’d even do well in an over forty beer league.
    Her second attempt almost hits her intended target.  “Better.” I smile as one of her hands snake out of the thick pile of blankets to flip me off.  I can’t help but snicker as I shut the door.
    Hustling my way across campus for my nine o’clock class which, thanks to Brooklyn, I am now running late for, I try multitasking on the fly as I read a text sent by one of my professors.  Even though this bad habit is always ill-advised when trying to maneuver through a large herd of students who are also trying to haul ass across campus, I do it anyway.  I’m certainly not going to deny my own stupidity as I smack rather embarrassingly into a wall.  With a loud ouff, I stagger back a few steps before strong arms reach out to steady me.  And to the best of my knowledge, walls don’t have arms.
    Almost instantly my belly hollows out because I think I might know that hard muscled chest…
    Crap.
    Could life seriously be cruel enough to throw this guy right into my oblivious path within twelve short hours of our previous meeting?
    The answer to that question is a resounding yes .  My gaze arrows right to his smiling golden brown eyes.  A slight wind ruffles his gorgeous hair as we stand in the middle of the cement walking path that snakes its way through campus.
    “Oh you’ve got to be kidding me,” I