Taking Chances

“Ugh,” my roommate Rebecca groaned as our classmates around us started packing up their materials, “I don’t want to write this term paper.”

I laughed, sympathizing with her. “I know. It’s going to suck.” We both got to our feet and started out of the lecture room. “But look at it this way: we can have an all-nighter to write it. And we can work together! Kind of.”

“We can’t work together…” she chuckled, her brown eyes lighting up. “Our topics are two totally unrelated things.”

“So…?” I laughed. “These papers don’t have to coherent or anything, do they?”

“A little bit.” She tucked a lock of her dark brown hair behind her ear. “Unless you wanted to fail the class.”

"Eh,” I shrugged dramatically, “it’s just psych. No big deal.”

“Oh, of course not.” She rolled her eyes behind her rectangular glasses. “It’s just that if we don’t pass it, we don’t get to graduate.”

I grinned at her and nudged her in the side. “Not to mention all the money that we wasted trying to go to this place.”

“Good point,” she agreed. “Okay, I’m going to go over to the library to take out a couple books for my paper. Are you coming?”

I thought about it for a second before shaking my head. “No, I don’t think so. I’m not going to start it so early.”

“Your grade on the line,” she teased, starting to back away from me. “I’ll see you later! What do you want for dinner?”

“Uh…Italian okay with you?” I called back.

She nodded and gave me a thumbs-up. I waved at her as she walked away, a smile tugging at the sides of my lips.

I’d been going to Emerson College, a small school in Boston, since I walked away from selling myself to that record company. It was nice, being away from home, yet still being close enough to visit Mom on most weekends.

They didn’t care who I was at school, where I’d come from. No one treated me any differently than anyone else. In fact, nearly everywhere, Bailey Austin was just one of those stars who had their fifteen minutes and were no longer relevant. It was a rare occurrence that someone pointed me out, and even rarer for them to ask for an autograph. And all that in a mere six months.

The scent of coffee filled my nose, my heart starting to race as if the caffeine could be absorbed through smell. Grinning, I made my way over to the little cart and ordered a hot French Vanilla coffee.

It warmed me instantly, making me shiver. I wanted to gulp the whole thing down, but I knew that was going to cause absolutely nothing but pain, so I refrained.

Just as I was rounding the corner to get to my dorm building, my phone started going off in the pocket of my bright pink pea coat. I struggled to readjust everything in my hands so I could pick it up, and ended up dropping my binder on a stone wall so that I could get to the call in time.

“Hello?” I asked, slightly breathless at my fumbling.

“Bailey, hi!” Mom’s voice exclaimed through the phone. “It’s been a while since we talked.”

“Yeah, it has been,” I agreed. Careful not to spill my coffee, I balanced my phone between my shoulder and ear and leaned over to pick up my binder, wanting to get to my dorm room and out of the cold. “How have you been?”

“Oh, same old, same old,” she responded off-handedly. “Work’s been…you know.” We both laughed. “How about you?”

“Eh, fine.” I shrugged, even though she couldn’t see me. “All my midterms are next week, so I’m freaking out a little bit. I’ve got two papers to write that I haven’t started yet.”

“Bailey…” Mom started warningly. “Don’t let yourself get swamped. Remember how stressed you got when you had to fill out all the applications last minute?”

I sighed at the memory. I’d nearly broken down completely. Having to write so many different essays to all the different colleges was excruciatingly nerve-wracking. But in the end, it all worked out. “Don’t worry. Rebecca and I are going to start our papers tonight.”

Okay, so Rebecca was going to start her paper then, and I wasn’t, but Mom didn’t have to know that.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Mom praised.

There was a short silence, so I asked the question that neither of us wanted to talk about. “Is Gabby still calling?”

Gabby had taken up the habit of calling every Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday, asking if I was interested in getting back in the business yet. She said that she had things lined up for me when I returned, but she wasn’t allowed to negotiate any solid deals without my consent. It hurt me a lot to have to reject her time and time again, but I really needed a break from everything.

“Yeah,” Mom expressed sadly. “I feel horrible telling her every time that you’re not interested.”

I let out a breath and tried to open the door to my dorm building. A guy who was leaving propped it open for me, holding it as I stumbled my way through. ‘Thank you,’ I mouthed at him with a smile.

‘You’re welcome,’ he replied, his grin sending crinkles into the corners of his dark blue eyes. He was a cutie.

“I know,” I replied as I made my way down the hallway. “But maybe she’ll give up sometime?”

“Or maybe you’ll actually take her offer,” Mom seconded.

“Oh, yeah.” I laughed. “That doesn’t exactly look like it’s going to happen anytime soon.” I leaned against the wall, pinning my binder to keep it from falling, as I fished through my pocket for my key.

“Whatever you say, honey,” Mom joked knowingly.

I rolled my eyes and sighed as I opened my door. “Mom, I don’t really appreciate your condescending tone.”

“I’m not trying to be condescending!” she argued, chuckling a little. “I’m just telling you what you want to hear.

“Also not appreciated.”

I brought my head up, prepared to toss my binder onto the small desk and collapse back onto the bed.

But instead, my eyes met a pair of dark brown ones that matched a boy I hadn’t seen in a very long time.

“Holy shit,” I gasped out, my face turning a deep shade of red. “Mom, I’m going to have to call you back.”

“What? What’s going on?” she rushed frantically.

I ignored her panic and hung up the phone. I stared without embarrassment, my eyes filling with shocked tears, my heart racing.

“Zayn?” I breathed.