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The Lumineers blast through the speakers of the car, filling up the space with the sound of acoustic guitar. I tap my fingers against my bare legs, softly singing along with the tune. Lena smiles brightly at me. She doesn't know the lyrics, but she bobs her head anyway.

"This is kinda cute," she says.

"You like it?"

She nods. "It's far better than the other band you showed me."

"Bon Iver?"

"Yeah. They were a total snooze-fest."

I stifle a laugh, shaking my head at her. We barely ever agree on music. We have a similar taste, but she much prefers R&B over folk music. At least we both love Beyoncé. But who doesn't love Beyonce?

"We're almost there," Lena tells me, nodding to the GPS. I read the words on the screen. Sure enough, it says we're only five minutes away.

"Oh, god," I mumble, feeling a put form in the pit of my stomach. I flip the sun visor open, checking my makeup in the mirror. We've only been in the car for about two hours, but that's plenty of time for my mascara to smudge, or lipstick to get on my teeth.

Even though we had to get up pretty early, I still managed to give myself a full face of makeup. I like how I look without makeup, too, but it definitely gives me a confidence boost. It makes me feel more like myself. Especially when I wear my signature red lipstick, like I am today.

Growing up, I always felt insecure about my facial features. I thought it was too found, and my cheeks were too chubby. But now, I think it suits me perfectly. Especially since I learnt how to style my hair. It used to be short and straight, but now it reaches down to my boobs, and I curl it almost every day to make it nice and wavy. It's naturally a dark blonde colour, but I've added some highlights to brighten it up.

I like how I look now. I even like my weird button nose and pouty lips. And thanks to Cara Delevingne, my dark eyebrows are trending.

"Don't be nervous," Lena says. "It'll be fine."

"I hope so," I breathe, attempting to calm my nerves. I pull at the skin on my knee, hoping that fidgeting will help.

I look out the window, eyeing the suburb we're going to be living in. It's right near campus, so it's bound to be full of students. I've already seen some houses with Greek letters displayed on them.

It's safe to say that Lena and I will not be joining a sorority. We're both raging introverts, so living in a house full of others, doesn't really appeal to us. Instead, we'll be living with Lena's brother Owen, and his best friend Tyler. I've met Owen a few times before, but I don't know much about him. He moved out here almost four years ago, and only visits his parents for the holidays, or birthdays.

When Lena suggested we move in with him, I was beyond hesitant. Living with two college guys was never really part of my college dream, but it was the only way Lena and I could live together. We can't afford to get an apartment on our own, and there was no guarantee we'd be together if we moved into the dorms. When Lena told me how much it would cost for us to move in with Owen, I was sold. With four people living in a three bedroom apartment, it was much more affordable than anything else.

"Alright," Lena says, flicking her indicator on. "This is it."

We turn into the parking lot, approaching the building. It's tall, but not huge. It must be about five storeys high, and we're on level four. The outside looks modern. It's got white-painted bricks, plenty of glass, and some stone wall cladding hiding the concrete stairwell. As nice as this place is, I can already tell it's full of college students. Someone's hung a giant flag with the college logo off their balcony, and a group of boys are unpacking a car a few spots down.

"You ready, Sarah?" Lena asks, unbuckling her seatbelt.

"Yeah," I nod. "I hope they have coffee. I need caffeine."

"Same," she laughs. "We'll go grocery shopping if they don't."

We step out of the car. I leave my bag in there, knowing we'll be back down, anyway. We still have to unpack the car, and carry everything four levels up. It's a good thing I only brought the essentials. The apartment is already furnished, so we only have to bring our personal things. We're planning on buying our beds, and everything else we need today.

By the time we reach the fourth floor, I'm out of breath. I hold onto the side rail, glancing over the edge. We're way too high for my liking.

"I'm going to have to get over my fear of heights," I say.

"And start exercising," Lena teases, walking ahead of me.

"Maybe I'll finally take you up on that offer to train me. "

"Remember that episode of Friends where Chandler starts working out with Monica? That'll be us."

"Oh my god," I chuckle. "That's so true."

I've never been a big fan of sports, or exercise of any kind. I took dancing classes as a kid, but I gave up when middle school came around. Lena, on the other hand, loves working out. She says it 'cleanses her soul'. It sounds lame, but that's also how I feel when I play piano.

Lena sways back and forth on her feet as she presses the doorbell. I pull my dress straight, wiping off some leftover Cheeto crumbs in the process. This is one of my favourite dresses. It's a red tea dress, with white dots over it. I've matched it with my white Converse, like I usually do.

The door is pulled open, revealing a smiling Owen. He's holding a cup of coffee in his hand. He must've just showered. His hair is wet, and there are some water droplets on his shirt. He looks so similar to Lena. They have the same dark coloured skin, and the same prominent cheekbones. Even though I saw him just a few weeks ago, I'm still surprised by his tattoos. He's covered n them. They're on his arms, his legs, and there's even one sticking out of the collar of his shirt. He's tall too, and muscular. The love for exercise definitely runs in the Benali family.

"Hey, girls," he grins. "Come on in."

"Hi," I smile politely, stepping into the apartment.

"Good to see you, Sarah."

"You too."

"Come on, bro," Lena laughs. "Give me a hug."

The two embrace, giving me enough time to eye the room. It's bigger than I expected. It's a large open space, with a couch and TV at the front of the room, and a modern kitchen in the back. It even has a breakfast bar. There's a small hallway leading past the kitchen, with multiple doorways attached to it. It's surprisingly clean. There's a bunch of glasses and plates dumped on the kitchen counter, and shoes littered over the floor. But it's not a total man cave. There's no gross dirty underwear lying around.

"I was meant to clean up before you guys came, but I had a late night," Owen says, swinging the door shut.

"That's alright," Lena says. "We weren't expecting much."

"I stocked up the fridge, though. I even got that strawberry milk you like," he tells me.

"You did?" I smile.

"Yeah, I don't know why you like that stuff," he wrinkles his nose.

"It's gross, isn't it?" Lena laughs.

It's my absolute favourite drink. It has been since I was a kid. Strawberry milk, strawberry milkshakes, strawberry ice-cream, everything strawberry. Ironically, I don't actually like strawberries.

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