After class, I was in no hurry to get back to Clark Kerr. I felt like I’d been rushing around all day especially after I ran away from Jett and Troy acting like Neanderthals in front of all those people. It was humiliating!

I stopped by the International House’s café to grab some much-needed caffeine. My hangover had faded a bit, but I needed an energy boost. I sat down with my frothy cinnamon latte and took out my book, “Competitive Strategy: Techniques for Analyzing Industries and Competitors.” I opened the book to the chapter on market signals, but I couldn’t concentrate.

The café hummed a harmonious mix of so many languages, it took my attention. I put the book away and just looked around me, taking it all in. I was surrounded by so many people from different faraway places who were all here in Berkeley for the same thing, to study. And I was one of them.

Of course, Florida wasn’t that far away, but still, I was in California on my own at this spectacular school. I sipped my latte savoring the woody savory aroma from the cinnamon. I loved it here.

On the walk home, I checked the time. My mom would be home now probably eating dinner while grading her students’ work or going over her research. We spent many dinners together, mother and daughter, eating while diligently reading or grading.

A couple of KA guys were out in front of their house sitting on a ratty couch drinking beers, people watching and yelling at girls as they walked by. I crossed the street. I was not in the mood.

Seriously, did catcalling ever work on any girl ever in the history of time? I doubted it.

A few minutes later, I watched in disbelief as a pretty girl with a green backpack actually stopped to talk to one of the KA guys after he complimented her ass. I guess that did work with girls.

Some girls.

I hovered my thumb over my mom’s number. I wanted to call her so badly, but I stopped myself. I knew talking with her after such a crazy day: being hungover for the first time, the fight between Jett and Troy, I’d cry as soon as I got on the phone with her.

When I got back to my dorm room, I found a gorgeous bouquet of flowers on my desk. Marsha was hunched over her desk buried in her textbook.

“These are beautiful,” I said leaning down and smelled them. I loved the smell of fresh flowers. The arrangement was made up of hot pink and lavender roses, soft pink tulips, vibrant green and pink hydrangeas, and delicate green cymbidium orchids that were a creamy green avocado color.

Marsha smiled watching me smell the flowers. “They are beautiful, Laney. Who sent them?” she asked rushing to my side as I picked up the card.

I excitedly opened the envelope. “It must be from my mom. She knows how much I love flowers. I mean, look at them! They’re gorgeous: Tulipa gesneriana, Cymbidium chloranthum…” I stopped reciting the scientific names of the flowers when I opened the card. These beautiful flowers were not from my mom.

Marsha peered over my shoulder reading the card with me. “Jett is laying it on pretty thick, don’t you think.”

I closed the card in shock. Jett? I couldn’t believe it.

Marsha sucked her teeth in disapproval. “You are just a game to him, Laney. You know that, right?”

I picked up the box of candy: Lake Champlain Vermont chocolates. I opened the box. Daintily crafted chocolates waited inside for me. They looked too cute to eat: chocolates shaped in flowers, maple leaves, and perfectly rounded mounds.

Marsha hovered a hand over a white globe with brown chocolate stripes. “Can I have one?”

I pushed the box toward her. “Of course.”

She snatched up the white chocolate and popped it into her mouth. As she chewed, she said, “If you’re looking for a guy, go for Troy. He is, by far, a much better choice than Jett.”

I picked up the flower shaped chocolate and took a tiny bite. I wanted to savor these treats. A tartly sweet orange cream burst into my mouth. It was decadent. As I rolled the orange chocolate mix around with my tongue, I thought about Jett and Troy.

What am I going to do?

When the tanginess melted, I said, “I’m not sure what to do or who to pick or if I should pick anyone. I have to think it over.”

Marsha grabbed a dark chocolate shaped maple leaf from the box. “Last one, I swear,” she said before retreating back to her desk. “Okay, think it over, but you know what my vote is.”

I took a hot shower and pulled on my striped pink and white cotton pajamas. My PJs were well worn and soft from years and years of washes. Taking a couple of Ibuprofens, I burrowed in my bed with my laptop. Then browsed through Netflix before choosing the newest adaptation of “Anne of Green Gables.”

With my headphones on, I intently watched the first episode and barely heard the knock on our door. Marsha called my name to get my attention. From my bed, I looked up and saw Troy standing in our doorway.

Pulling off my headphones quickly, I was utterly confused.

Why’s he here?

Troy looked past Marsha at me and as his words came out anxiously, “Laney, will you please come outside and talk to me?” My bed was so comfy and warm. I wanted to stay there. Troy took a step inside our room and added, “Please. It will only be a minute.”

I couldn’t come up with an excuse with him staring right at me, so I resigned myself to the fact I had to hear the guy out. “Okay. I’ll be right out.”

Troy awkwardly back-stepped out into the hallway as I gestured to Marsha to shut the door. She reluctantly closed the door with a disapproving look, her hands on her hips. “You’re going out there, right?”

I climbed out of bed and pulled on my robe while stuffing my feet into my fuzzy purple slippers. “Yes. I’m going. I don’t really want to, but I’m going.”

Marsha put a firm hand on the door stopping me from opening it. Her voice was low as she said, “Give him a chance, Laney.”

“Okay. I will,” I said exasperated, pulling the door open.

Marsha must be the president of Troy’s fan club.

Out in the hallway, Troy paced with his hands in tight fists. When he saw me, he hurried to me and said, “Laney, I’m so sorry for how I acted earlier. It’s just that…”

He looked up to the ceiling searching for words. “Jett is exactly what I said he was. He’s never been with the same girl more than a few times. He leaves every single one in tears.” He talked quickly while his eyes darted all over the place. He seemed nervous.

Crossing my arms in front of me, I was growing weary of everyone telling me how bad a guy Jett was. “I’m not some dimwitted twit you know.”

He must have realized how erratically he was talking and leaned back on the wall trying to look relaxed. Then clasped his hands together and said quietly, “I just don’t want to see you get hurt. He’s full of promises he never keeps.”

“Thank you for being concerned for me, but Jett sent me flowers and chocolates as an apology. It was really sweet. He even asked me out on a real date.” I looked down at my hands feeling bashful all of a sudden. “Has he ever done that with anyone else that you know of?”

His posture snapped rigidly upright as he bounced off the wall immediately. His hands curled into fists again. He fired off quickly, “I have no idea if he has. I doubt it. He will stoop to anything to get what he wants though. I can tell you that much.”

I stepped back away from him, feeling drained just from the conversation. I wanted to get back in my bed. “Thank you for your apology,” I said placing my hand on the doorknob to my room.

Troy stepped closer to me. “Will you go out with me tomorrow night?”

I tapped my thumb on the doorknob wanting to turn it and go back inside. I turned to Troy. “Thank you, Troy, but no thank you.”

Troy took another step closer. His brown eyes pleaded. “I won’t stop asking until you say yes. All I ask is that you give me a shot.” He looked as if he was holding his breath waiting for me to answer.

I heard Marsha through the door singing along to Taylor Swift. She seemed to think I should give Troy a chance. I thought about my bed again. My plump pillows. My soft comforter. If I said yes, Troy would let me go back to my bed.

I let go of the doorknob and turned to Troy. “Okay.”

His face lit up, and he raised his arms up over his head. “Yes!” He started talking rapidly again. “Oh, Laney. You will not regret this! We’re going to have a fantastic time!” He laughed happily while lifting me up off my feet, spinning me around. “Thank you! Thank you!”

I was surprised by his gesture and laughed too despite my fuzzy slippers flinging off my feet. He placed me back down gently. Noticing my bare feet, he collected my slippers from where they’d landed and placed them right at my feet in front of me. Troy offered his hand. I took it feeling silly as I pushed my feet back into my slippers as he grinned at me.

Back in my bed, watching Anne meet the Cuthberts for the first time, I thought about my plans with Troy.

Why did I agree to go out with him?

Of course, after I told Marsha, she congratulated me for my wise decision, but then why was I confused by the whole thing?

I watched in amusement as Anne, in her endearing melodramatic ways, lamented about being sent away. She chattered on about destiny and her dreams. When she said, “Tomorrow is always fresh, with no mistakes in it.” I agreed with her.

I had already agreed to a date with Troy. If this was a mistake, I’d soon see.