Love, Ally by Hannah Gray

eight

Ally

“I’m so excited to go to this football game,” Sloane squeals. “Football is a huge deal back where I’m from. This is like having a little slice of home here at college.”

I smile and shake my head. “Your accent is the cutest shit I have ever heard. Kinda pissed that I wasn’t born in the South.”

She’s like a little Southern belle. Though I can’t wait until she feels comfortable enough with me to tell me her real story. After all, everybody has one.

She smiles. “Me and Ally go together like peas and carrots,” her Southern accent drawls slowly, sounding like Forrest Gump.

“This is why we’re friends.” I smile so hard that it actually hurts my cheeks.

“Ahem, bitch … we’re best friends.”

“Fo’ life.” I wink at her. “For real though, Sloane, thank you for being my friend. It means a lot—to have a friend and be able to trust them. I haven’t exactly had a ton of friends in my eighteen years.”

“I mean, I tried to switch roommates, but they said no. So, I suppose I’m stuck with you now, aren’t I?” she says, completely indifferent.

My mouth hangs open as I whip my head toward her. “Wh—”

“I’m kidding! I’m kidding! Lousy joke. Sorry,” she says, throwing her arm around me. “Thank you for being my friend, Ally. I’m really happy that we were paired as roommates.”

Even when she’s mean as a joke, she can’t stand the thought of hurting someone’s feelings. I could learn a lot from Sloane—that’s for damn sure. Nonetheless, I’m so happy to have her as not just a roommate, but also as a friend.

Aside from Cole, this is the closest thing I’ve ever had to a best friend. It’s weird, talking girl talk. I’ve never been one of those girls. I was respected back in Charlotte’s Falls but only because of Cole. Girls saw me as a pariah. I had stolen the hottest guy on campus. And even though he was still a poor foster kid, it wasn’t hard to see with the football skills he possessed that he was headed places. Big places. So, naturally, they all loved and adored him. Me? I was tolerated.

“So,” Sloane says sweetly, “if you don’t mind me asking, what is up with you and that Cole or Storm or Storms or whatever the heck his name is?” Turning toward me again, she scrunches her face up. “Seriously, what even is his real name?”

I laugh. “His name is Cole Storms. I started calling him Storm when we were twelve. It’s sort of his second name now.” I roll my eyes. “Well, now, he’s called it by everyone and their damn grandmother. But before, it was my thing. I called him Storm.”

“Okay, well, that doesn’t answer my question. What is up with the two of you?”

I sigh at her persistency. It’s not that I don’t want to share; it’s just that things between Cole and me have always felt so sacred. “We’re old friends, you could say.”

“As in … old friends who used to get naked and roll around? Or just plain old friends?” she asks, arching an eyebrow.

My mouth hangs open. “Sloane Leighton! So much for you being the innocent girl I pegged you for.” I shake my head. “I’m almost never wrong about people either. You slipped right under my radar.”

“Eh, guess it’s true what they say. Looks can be deceiving.” She shrugs. “Anyway, did you know he was coming here? To Brooks?”

I shake my head. “I had no freaking clue, I swear. I thought he was going to Texas. Then, I came to Georgia, and bam, he’s here.” Pulling my hair up, I tie it in a ponytail. “And that makes my life more complicated.”

She nods. “Understandably so. But I have to ask, did you wish for him to be here?”

I think before I answer. “Not here specifically. Only because I never gave it a thought that he’d ever in a million years attend Brooks,” I explain. “His dream school was always in Texas. And I wanted to attend there too.” I blush. “But when I applied there, I got rejected. So, here I am.”

Looking forward, she continues walking. A smile suddenly touches her lips.

“Why are you smiling?” I grunt. I can only imagine what thoughts are going on in her everything is flowers and candy mind. She’s all light and colorful. I’m more dark and dreary.

“Well, it sounds like …” She pauses, her finger tapping her lips.

“Like what?” I ask. My curiosity killing me.

“Like destiny,” she says softly. “You both ended up here for a reason.”

“Oh my flying fuck.” I elbow her. “Destiny? Are you kidding me?” I joke it off, but I’ve thought about it myself. I don’t typically believe in that type of shit. But I can’t deny the fact that the universe has delivered me to that man not once, but twice.

“What?” she shrieks. “What’s wrong with the word destiny?”

“Well … to be blunt, I think it’s a bunch of horseshit.”

“Maybe you should start believing in it,” she says before leading the way to our seats. “Because I’m not sure what other sign you need from the world to tell you that you were meant to be in each other’s lives. It’s pretty dang obvious to me.”

Destiny couldn’t have brought us back together. Could it?

I shake that thought off. So far, destiny hasn’t been that kind to me. I seriously doubt it had anything to do with the man my heart beats for being at the same college.