But as soon as I walked through the door, my happy feelings evaporated so quickly, I practically heard the pop.
“Oh, man,” I said softly. “Why do I keep being surprised when everything turns out gross and depressing?”
Jenna was sitting in the middle of her bed. “I thought the window was the worst,” she said quietly. “Or, you know. Evan getting eaten. But now I really feel like crying.”
Our room had never been what anyone would call luxurious, but thanks to Jenna’s obsessive love for pink, it had been…okay, I was going to say “comfortable” but “bright” and “maybe a little insane” were probably better descriptions. Still, it had been ours, and I’d never really realized how much Jenna’s lights, scarves, and Electric Raspberry comforter had made that tiny dorm room feel like home.

Autore: Rachel Hawkins