Four Girls and a Guy - Suzanne Jenkins Page 0,2

to the ocean, she had a certain affinity for Chicago and Lake Michigan. The winters were brutal and she dreaded the upcoming winter. But her roommates were wonderful, they had a primo apartment two blocks from the university, and she felt at home there. She’d tease about moving back to California, but it was unlikely in reality until after she graduated. With four years of medical school ahead of her, she’d stay in Chicago.

Dorm life was not for her, so as soon as she could, near the end of her freshman year, she borrowed more money from her generous father and put the security deposit on the big two-bedroom, two-bath with a den and a balcony with a view. But she couldn’t afford it alone for long.

The first acquaintance she approached was prelaw student Joan from Philadelphia. They’d met in introduction to psychology and hit it off right away, able to express their deepest longing. Joan was so homesick she could barely tolerate it, and almost every weekend, Alison and Joan would meet for a beer someplace off campus just to talk about home.

“I’m moving into an apartment. Would you like to join me?”

“I would love it. I loathe the dorm,” Joan said. “Maybe being in a homey setting would help me a little bit.”

Laura, in the undergraduate criminal justice program, and Alison’s fellow premed school cohort Samantha soon moved in. The four girls would spend the next three years growing as close as sisters.

The wind whipped up, and the heater clicked on, so Alison quickly closed the window. She had to pay the heating bill, after all. Passing by Samantha’s bed, she thought she was seeing things when a muscular ass peeked out at her from the sheets.

Stumbling down the hallway, she heard moaning coming from the kitchen. Sitting cross-legged on Alison’s yoga mat, her head in her hands, Joan moaned, intermittently crying out for God to kill her.

“Did you sleep in here all night?” Alison asked, waving her hand in front of her nose.

“You! You and your damned tequila!”

“I see you’re both finally awake,” Samantha said from the window seat, a glass of water in between her shaking hands.

“I didn’t see you there,” Alison said. “I need coffee. And there’s a guy sleeping in your bed.”

“It’s Tom. I thought I told him to leave an hour ago.”

“Did you two have sex last night? If you did, it had to be the quietest one in history because I didn’t hear a thing.”

“Actually, I yodeled, if you must know. You were out cold, so I didn’t worry then, but I am sorry. Gross.”

“I think I shit my pants,” Joan moaned from the floor.

“It smells like it,” Samantha replied. “Honest to god, you two can’t hold your liquor, and frankly, I’m tired of dragging you out of bars.”

“I’ll be back,” Joan said, wrapping up in a blanket and leaving the room.

“I guess I’ll have to throw this thing away,” Alison said disgustedly, rolling the yoga mat into a cylinder as she held her nose.

“Throw it on the balcony now just to get it out of here.”

“So she’s going to be mad at me for a while. What about you?”

“I can regulate my own alcohol intake. Laura is pissed off because of Joan. So you’ll have to make amends to those two.”

“I can do that,” Alison said, returning from the balcony. Her olive skin more pale than usual, her curly black hair framed her face like a halo. Her lean, athletic body moved across the kitchen floor as gracefully as a dancer’s.

“Good morning.”

They looked up to see Tom Kolsky in all his cuteness, bending over like he’d been punched in the gut.

“Do you want coffee?” Alison asked him.

“I’d better get out of here. I’m late for work. Thanks, Samantha. I’d kiss you goodbye, but I stink. Talk later?”

“I’ll see you,” she said, winking. “Thanks for helping us get Joan home.”

They heard the door shut.

“So what was with Tom? I thought you were just friends.”

“The refrain of all of us. We’re just friends. Last night I needed more than a friend, and I just hoped you didn’t wake up.”

“I spent a few seconds looking at Tom naked while he was in your bed this morning. That guy has a body that doesn’t quit.”

“You say that about everyone. Aren’t there any unattractive people in Chicago? I don’t remember much of it. I hope he used a condom.”

“Yikes, Sam,” Alison said, snickering. “That could be trouble.”

At the counter, Alison took a coffee pod from the