My One Night: An On My Own Novel by Carrie Ryan (life books to read .txt) 📕

gameboard, and I always found it a bit weird. Our other roommate, Paul, who went by his last name—Sanders—had his little desk area in the foyer. It was a bit more out in the open so we could tell when he was studying or not—mostly not these days—but he had the biggest space. We had all chosen our rooms and study areas courtesy of a bag of Twizzlers the first day we met, in lieu of drawing straws. The Twizzlers were usually in Pacey’s hand, as the guy was addicted to them. I didn’t see them on him now, but I figured they were probably in the pantry, beckoning him like always.

That brought a smile to my face, and Pacey once again glared at me. “Why are you off in your head again? Now what are you thinking?”

“Just about Twizzlers.”

Miles’ eyes widened, and Tanner winced.

“What?” I asked.

Pacey straightened, his eyes narrowing. I thought I saw a little humor there—at least I hoped—but I wasn’t sure. “Sanders and Mackenzie ate the last Twizzler, and I haven’t been to the store to replenish. I was a little busy taking my exam this afternoon and setting up for the party. Therefore, I have not had a Twizzler all day. Let’s not discuss it.”

I looked between all of them, my jaw dropped. “Sanders and his girlfriend ate the Twizzlers?” That offense was a literal Code Red in this house.

“I cannot blame Mackenzie,” Pacey said, holding up a hand. “She didn’t know. She will, though, because I will make sure she does. And Mackenzie is usually nice enough to replenish whatever she eats here.” Somehow, I had a feeling this was all Sanders.

“Did you put the Twizzlers on the common shelf?” I asked, knowing I was treading on dangerous ground here.

Pacey’s eyes narrowed even more. “It shouldn’t matter. We all know I’m the one who buys my favorite candy.”

“I’ve never actually heard you sound so haughty before,” Miles said, holding back a laugh.

“Very, very British,” Tanner said deadpan.

Pacey looked between all of us and lifted his lip in a small snarl. “I hate you all. And I would do better if I had my favorite crutch to get me by. Sadly, I do not.”

“Hi,” a bright voice said from beside us. I turned to see Sanders’ girlfriend, Mackenzie, standing there, her long, brown hair hanging in curls and waves down her back. “I didn’t realize they were yours when Sanders offered them to me,” she said, and I met Pacey’s gaze.

He winced and then did his best to school his features. “It’s okay, I understand.”

“Well, then I hope this will help.” She reached into her large bag, the one that all the girls around here seemed to carry with them these days, even to house parties like this, and pulled out a family-size bag of Twizzlers. “It’s the least I can do. I’m so sorry,” she said.

Pacey looked down at the candy and then at her, a smile slowly crawling over his face. “I do believe you’re my favorite.” He took the red licorice from her and winked.

“Oh, well, I was kind of a jerk to help finish it. And I felt bad. However, here you go.”

“You macking on my girl?” Sanders said as he put a proprietary hand on Mackenzie’s waist. She rolled her eyes but leaned back against him. According to Mackenzie, the two had been dating since the cradle, and Sanders usually went along with that idea. I didn’t know how someone could be with another person for so long, but I thought it was kind of nice. The two seemed to suit each other and got along. Mackenzie was a little uptight sometimes. Things always had to be a certain way, and her making sure of that could come off as kind of rude, a bit stuck up, but then she did things like this. I didn’t really understand her, but I liked her. That seemed to be my go-to these days.

Sanders was a bit of an oaf sometimes, kind of a jerk, but he did his best not to act like one with us. He was considerate and didn’t keep music too loud at night when we were studying. I liked all of my roommates. I just happened to get along with Pacey the best. Maybe because he reminded me of a British version of my brothers for some reason—not that I would ever tell him or my brothers that.

“Who uses the word macking?” Tanner asked, rolling his eyes.

“It’s probably back in the new slang,” Miles said, defending Sanders. Tanner didn’t really get along with Sanders, and Miles was always the mediator. I usually stayed out of the way. I had enough family drama when it came to mine. I didn’t need to add the cross-section of five guys who didn’t know each other, trying to live with one another.

“Anyway, it was none of the sort,” Pacey remarked, his tone formal. “She was just replenishing the stores you seemed to have forgotten were mine,” he said, holding up the bag of Twizzlers.

Sanders blushed and then shrugged. “Sorry about that. I would have taken care of it tomorrow. Thanks, babe.” He kissed her hard on the cheek, and she just smiled.

“It’s what I’m here for. I have lists of lists. And I’ll be sure to bring my own snacks next time. Again, sorry.” She tugged on Sanders’ hand. “Now, come on. There’s someone I need you to meet. Bye, boys.” She waved at us and then sauntered off, Sanders right behind her.

“I have a feeling those two are going to be married by the end of the semester, and we’re going to be one roommate short,” Pacey said dryly.

“I hope not,” Tanner grumbled, and I looked up at him.

“Really? I didn’t think you liked Sanders.”

Tanner shrugged. “It’s not that. I don’t mind him. I don’t mind any of you guys,” he added, and we all laughed. “It’s more that I don’t know if you need to get married when you’re twenty