By Al'nycea Blackwell

“…I called him and he just ignored me. That asshole!” She begins to giggle.

Her giggle is soon accompanied by my laughter. The sounds of our laughter fill her dorm room. It overshadows the voices on her television and breaks the rules of quiet hours in the dormitory.

“I can’t believe that happened,” I utter in between giggles.

“Yeah, I know.” She giggles some more herself.  In an attempt to see myself in the dimly lit room, I get up from the chair and go toward her mirror.

 I study my reflection and my appearance makes me happy…my hair, my smile and my clothes. Especially my shirt.

Feeling consumed with glee, in a moment without thinking I said the worse thing I could have said: “I LOVE this shirt!!!” Beaming cheek to cheek, I turn around to my friend. She tilts her head sideways and squints her eyes, perhaps to see through her dim room. 

Her quiet face tells me her thoughts, before I can change the subject. Her voice erupts. “Whose shirt is that?”

“Mine,” I tell her.

“No, it isn’t,” her tone changes from light and funny to serious and assertive “it’s his!”