Virgin Playbook: Phoebe's First: College Football Sports Romance by Crystal Chance

1
    Co-Ed Living
    S tratfordshire Hall was not the place to get a good night’s sleep. The hallways reeked of pot and booze, while the residents didn’t smell much better. Studying was difficult, and sleeping was nearly impossible.
    My roommate spent most of her time socializing with friends at the recreation center, the library, the campus café, or wherever else she could go that was far away from me. Despite my various attempts to bond with her, she always found a reason why I couldn’t join her and her friends. Apparently, I wasn’t cool enough for them.
    It was only the first week of school, and I was already considering calling my father to pick me up. All of my high school friends loved college. Their social media pages were chock full of pictures of them and their new friends, their class lists, their dorm rooms, and everything else that they loved about leaving home. My social media pages were full of sad posts and worried questions from my internet friends. Unfortunately, none of them went to my college.
    In fact, I hadn’t made even one friend since arriving.
    I was ending a video call with my best friend from back home when Ariana walked in. She gave me a dirty look.
    “Do you ever leave?” she asked, tossing her neon pink backpack on the floor.
    “Well, yeah. I have classes,” I mumbled. “Where’ve you been?”
    “The café,” she replied, airily, “with Brendon and Casey.”
    I pretended to be interested. I hated being left out.
    “Which one of those is your boyfriend again?”
    “Oh God, neither of them!” she laughed. “They’re from my drama club—totally not into girls.”
    My face flushed. Ariana had so many friends that I could not even keep track of them, yet somehow, I had not even made one friend. I guess some people were just destined for social greatness.
    “So are you in for the night, then?” I asked, hopefully. “I got some awesome DVDs from the five dollar bin at the grocery store. They had a load of cheesy seventies films so I thought—”
    “Sorry, I have a party to go to,” Ariana cut me off. “I gotta get ready.”
    I looked down at the floor. I knew it was a rain check that would go un-cashed.
    “Sure,” I mumbled. “Another time.”
    “You know, you should join a sorority,” she suggested. “I think it’d be good for you. You’d meet other girls. Find some friends. Get out of the house.”
    I laughed a little. I was the last person on the planet that would join a sorority.
    “Me? At a sorority? Funny joke,” I replied. “I’m just gonna lay back with my microwave popcorn and campy horror flicks.”
    She nodded.
    “Try to do something for yourself, okay? Maybe something social, so you aren’t, you know . . . completely depressed and bored.”
    I looked at my TwillSpace buddy list. None of my high school friends were online.
    “I’ll try,” I lied with a smile. “Maybe after a shower.”

    L iving in a co-ed dorm was like living in my worst nightmare. Not only was Stratfordshire dubbed “the party dorm,” but we also didn’t get our own bathrooms. This meant we were forced to shower commune style.
    I avoided the showers for as long as I could. Unfortunately, there was only so long a girl could go without washing her hair and the first week of college just happened to take place in the last hot week of summer. Sweat was clinging to my hair, and it was time to give it a rinse.
    My heart pounded as I walked down the hallway. With a towel thrown over my shoulder, I was headed to the showers with dozens of other girls. I was convinced they were all going to size me up the second the towel dropped and desperately wished I could just take it into the shower with me.
    I could smell the bathroom from nearly fifteen feet away. I kept my eyes on the floor as I entered it. Not making eye contact was rule number one when it came to sharing a shower with hundreds of other girls.
    My eyes were still fixed on the floor when I saw a pair of feet that did not look