We had to memorize and recite a line by each poet we studied. Yeah.” Cringing ruefully, I explained, “I took British poetry last semester. I grinned at the baffled expression on this face before nodding.
“Of course.” I threw my hands into the air, defeated as I consulted the bare, water-stained pipes lining the ceiling. “Fate is determined to keep me needy and dependent tonight, isn’t it?” “If I offer to loan you my laundry detergent, you’re just going to refuse.
“Let me guess,” Wick’s deep voice spoke from behind me as I stared despondently down into the metal well at my dry, unwashed sheets pooled in the bottom, still full of excess dye and scratchy starch. But as soon as I stuffed the crisp linen into one of the washing machines, I realized I didn’t have any detergent. When I returned, Wick walked me down to the building’s basement to show me where the laundry room was kept so I wouldn’t have to sleep in itchy, new sheets. Thankfully, the nearest twenty-four-hour mart was only a few blocks away, so after I shooed my parents out the door and on their way home to keep them from being on the road any later than necessary, I ran out and found myself some queen-sized sheets, trying to look at things on the bright side: I was getting a bigger bed! Wick offered to lend me a second set he had on hand, but stubborn, I-want-to-be-independent me resisted. Grateful that my old roommate and Topher were both nowhere around when Dad and I arrived at Dandridge Hall, we packed my belongings into his and Mom’s van, then into my car, for over an hour until I had all my college possessions completely cleared from Annabeth’s apartment, only to return to my new place and realize the sheets wouldn’t fit the ones I’d had for the single-sized bed I’d used in my dorm apartment.
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