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Leslye spent much of her time pretending not to care. She pretended not to care about how she looked, what she ate, what other people thought of her. It was all part of the Leslye 2.0 she had created the minute she stepped foot on her large university campus.

The goal? Become unrecognizable to her high school “peers”. She vowed during that sweaty graduation ceremony, thighs sticking to her robe, robe sticking to the flimsy white plastic chair, that she would prove to these so called “friends” of hers she was more than the follower they saw her as.

It was pure luck she was placed with her charming roommate, whose international upbringing drew crowds of enamored revelers those first few weeks of freshmen orientation.
“”Have you really lived in all seven countries Kylie?” Jarrett posed this question the first time he stopped by and Leslye knew by the way the room hushed when he spoke that she needed to be associated with him. Kylie’s casual confirmation of her childhood travels led to nights filled with people crowded in their tiny dorm room, punctured by the occasional long-haired dude strumming Bon Iver on his guitar. Leslye decided she would make Jarrett fall for her. In her mind, it wasn’t a question of if they would get together, rather how quickly she could make it happen.