The Girl Who Cried Werewolf

“Oh, hell no! You can't read a book at a bar, Romy.”
Talia’s words startle me, and I knock my book off the table as I turn to look at her and Anna. While Talia’s pale rose hair, septum piercing, tattoos, and tough New Yorker attitude might intimidate some, they didn’t work on me.
Glaring, I pick up my copy of The Vampire’s Mail Order Bride from the floor of Valkyrie.
“If there is any alcohol on this, you owe me a new one,” I say. “And for your information, I wasn't going to read it. Much. I just needed to get some good pictures for my Insta.”
I position my book at the perfect angle for a quick photo on the low drink table in front of our couch.
“Oh, sweet baby Jesus, Romy. Did I just see the words Mail Order Bride on the cover? What are you even readin’?” Anna groans before covering her face as though that will contain her embarrassment.
I narrow my eyes and point to my chest before speaking to her like she's a small child. “Romy. Reads. Romance.” I say, pointing at myself. “Don’t act like you whores aren’t aware that’s my Insta handle.”
Talia snorts, and I roll my eyes at both of them.
“I met you assholes at freshman orientation. You'd think that you would be used to my weird book shit by now. And to answer your original question, it’s about a vampire who orders a bride by mail in order to appease his grandmother. It's really good. You can totally borrow it.”
I change angles to get a new shot, and Talia arches her perfectly sculpted brow at me.
“So, you're being crazier than normal. That's fun, but how about you tell us why your book nerdiness is on full display tonight.”
“My nerdiness is completely camouflaged,” I argue. “Does your average bookworm wear three inch heels?”
“And you look damn hot in them,” Talia agrees.
“What Talia means to say is that you seem stressed,” Anna says. “We just want you to know that we're here for ya, girl. Even if it’s just to hold that book right there at a perfect ninety-degree angle. Right?”
Anna levels a pointed look at Talia, who grins. “Right.”
Anna's kind blue eyes hold no judgment as she tucks a lock of her long blonde hair behind her ear, and I smile at her peacekeeping attempts. Her Tennessee is showing again. She's far too southern to allow us to argue in public.
“Thanks,” I tell them. “Actually, I do have something on my mind.”
Talia leans in. “I knew it. Spill.”
“Professor Higgins assigned a project that starts today and runs through the end of the year.”
“Already? Professor Hottie sure knows how to start the year off as a buzzkill. My biz accounting professor just wants us to do a PowerPoint every three seconds.”