My Favorite Mistake by Chelsea M. Cameron Read Free Book Online

called and left messages, but you weren't open yesterday.”
    “Okay, let me check. You hold tight.”
    She got to her feet and shuffled off to one of the offices, knocking softly on the door before going in. She closed the door so I couldn't hear what she said. Damn. I grabbed a hard candy from the jar and unwrapped it, earning glares from the other two people waiting. A few seconds later the secretary came back. I tried to judge from her face whether it was good or bad news.
    “I've talked with Marissa, the head of housing, and she's aware of your situation. If you want to sit and wait, she'll be with you as soon as she can. These people were ahead of you, and it's first come, first served,” she said with a tight smile.
    “Do you know how long it's going to be? I have class soon.”
    “Would you like to set up an appointment?”
    “When is the soonest you'd be able to do it?”
    “Let me check,” she said with a barely audible sigh. I wasn't trying to be difficult. “This is a very busy week. Hmm...” She scrolled through her computer, her eyes looking for an empty space. “The earliest we can do it is Friday afternoon at two.”
    “Friday?” Seriously? “Isn't there anyone else I can talk to?”
    “Let me check Roger's schedule. He's the assistant director.” She scrolled again, and I crossed my fingers. Not that I believed in luck. “The earliest he can do is next Monday at four.”
    Great, just great. I tried not to scream in frustration.
    “Okay, I'll take Friday. What am I supposed to do before then?”
    “You should contact your resident director and he can help you work through any issues you may have, okay?”
    She wrote out my date on card and took my name, typing it slowly into the computer. Yeah, our resident director. I'd seen the guy all of once when I moved in. He'd introduced himself and gave some speech about how his door was always open. Yeah, I was going to go to some complete stranger with my problems. Not likely.
    I thanked the woman and tried not to stomp out of the office. My phone buzzed, and I looked down to find a text from “Sexy Roommate.” I opened it, wondering what the hell.
    Sitting in class, thinking about you. You thinking about me?
    I had an idea who it was. More than an idea. I just didn't know when he'd gotten hold of my phone to put his number in.
    Who is this?
    The guy u slept with last night. One of them at least.
    Bite me.
    Saw u walking across campus today.
    U stalking me now?
    I was minding my own business and u crossed MY path. Who's stalking who now?
    This is harassment. I'm going to report you.
    Do whatever you want, Missy. You still haven't given me an answer on our bet.
    Me kicking u in the nuts wasn't enough of an answer?
    In most societies, a handshake usually symbolizes the making of a contract.
    Whatever. I'm shutting my phone off.
    I waited for a reply, but it didn't come. I shook my head and turned the phone off. I still had some time to kill before class, but nothing better to do so I went to get a good seat. Somehow I'd managed to weasel my way into human sexuality. It was the most popular class on campus, and most people couldn't get in until their senior year. Maybe I'd just gotten lucky. Haha.
    The class was located in what people called DPC 100. The DPC stood for David P. Corbett Hall. It was the largest classroom on campus and could hold up to 350 people. It was this crazy dome shape, with the seats stacked like a 3D movie theater. It was always a thousand degrees in there from all the people, and you never knew if you were going to trip on a half-empty Starbucks cup.
    Despite being nearly a half-hour early, there were already at least a hundred people in the room. I walked down the sloped side, trying not to trip and also trying to find a seat that wasn't close to anyone else. I liked my personal space, thank you very much.
    Most of the seats on the outer edges were taken, but I found one near the front that had a buffer. The desk next to me