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312 pages, Hardcover
First published August 31, 2010
For a moment, she could see nothing but his eyes. The color was irrelevant (blue, if you must know), but the expression was magnetic: intensity masquerading as indifference, the look carried a challenge--Entertain me, or I will entertain myself at your expense. His mouth twisted in a smirk so natural she had to assume that this was its default expression. Even in silence, he appeared to be mocking her.
Callie felt her cheeks grow hot. "Oh--uh--yikes," she stammered, bending down and shoving her bras and underwear back into the box, cringing as she reached for her smelly shin-guards and wishing, for once, that she had listened to her mother ("The doctor said no more soccer for at least a year: do you really think your shins are going to need guarding in college?"). Instead Callie had insisted, a tad bit dramatically, that they were the closest thing she had to a teddy bear (seeing as she slept with them on the night before every big game), and without them she was like a warrior without his armor, at which point Theresa Frederickson-Andrews, no, make that Theresa Frederickson (it'd been three years since the divorce but she still had to remind herself), threw up her hands and shook her head, muttering the oft-repeated phrase, " . . . just like your father."
In a way, though, it was true: without soccer--a busted ACL put her out of commission at the end of last season for possibly forever--she wasn't quite sure who she was anymore. Thankfully old Scott Bugers Wentworth had also promised as rapt--raptly asleep that is--audience had lapsed into a collective heat coma on graduation day that "College is a primetime for reinvention." So far, it was looking like she had a jump start on redefining herself as the Dorm Klutz.
"I'd offer to assist you," said the box-droppingly handsome Reason-for-the-mess, still watching with poorly concealed amusement and looking like help was the farthest thing from his mind. "But usually I like to buy a girl dinner or at least a drink before I handle her undergarments."
When Callie arrives for her freshman year at Harvard, she encounters her three vastly different roommates, new friendships, 'steamy romance', and 'scandalous secrets'.
What is freshman life at Harvard University really like? Best friends and 2008 Harvard graduates Lauren Kunze and Rina Onur launch their series with this hilarious, romantic, sexy, and shocking novel about friendship, growing up, love, and – oh yeah – higher education.
Lauren and I were roommates and best friends for all four years at Harvard. We graduated in 2008. We started collaborating on this book when we were juniors. We swore to never tell how much of it is actually true.
-Rina Onur, on Goodreads
“No,” snapped Callie. “I mean, yes it was him but no, he’s not my ‘so-called boyfriend.’ He’s my real boyfriend, like, he actually exists. . . . His name’s Evan and he’s great,” she blurted. “Really great and really . . . tall.”
“I’m so sorry,” he said, standing immediately—which revealed his substantial height—and holding out the chair. “Please, have a seat.”
“She appeared to be in the middle of a heated conversation with the tall boy whose back was facing Callie.”
“Out of the corner of her eye Dana noticed the way that Matt was looking at Callie and frowned. According to Maxwell’s law of attraction, the prettier you are, the dumber you’re supposed to be. Yet there was Callie, a direct, unfair violation to the fundamental order of the universe. (Dana also fully understood Maxwell’s real paper about gravitational forces, “On a Paradox in the Theory of Attraction—something in which she took pride.)”
“Callie stuck out her feet and wiggled her toes. Her flip-flops looked just fine to her: convenient, affordable, the perfect polyurethane blend of rubber and foam.”
“First Law of Thermo-identify-namics: you can always tell a freshman girl by (the absence of) her clothing.”
“That may be”—Callie shrugged—“but you never know until you try.” (Translation: I’m too afraid to sign up alone .) “You know what?” said Vanessa, starting to nod. “This could be an excellent opportunity to meet some new people.” (Translation: I accept you as my interim friend on the way to bigger and better things. )
Lady Gaga blared out of the speakers at the First Chance Dance, telling the students that if they “just danced it’s gonna be okay, spin that record, babe, and it’s gonna be okay . . .”
“Okay,” he said after a pause. “Nice to meet you, too— officially . And don’t worry about the sweater,” he added with a glimmer in his eyes. “It was a gift from my ex-girlfriend, so I was planning to burn it anyway.”
e, x : there were no two letters in all of English or mathematics that were more beautiful.