Music thumped from somewhere inside my apartment building. A lot of lights were on and I could pick up pieces of conversation as I headed up the stairs. On the fifth floor, I found the culprit. The apartment across the hall, two doors down, was throwing a party. The door was cracked open and light and music spilled into the open hallway.

A little bit of jealousy wiggled inside my chest as I unlocked my door. All the laughter, the noise, and the music sounded fun. It all seemed so normal, like something I should be doing, but parties….

Parties didn’t end well for me.

Closing my door behind me, I kicked off my shoes and dropped my bag on the couch. Furnishing this apartment had put a dent in my account, but I’d be here for four years and I figured I could sell it when I left or bring it with me.

And it was all my stuff. That meant a lot to me.

The party raged on across the hall, long after I finished my not-so healthy salad, changed into sleep shorts and a long sleeve shirt, and finished my art homework. It was just after midnight when I gave up on reading my English assignment and started back toward my bedroom.

But I stopped in the hallway, my toes curling into the carpet.

A burst of muffled laughter rang out and I knew their door must’ve been open, because it sounded louder than before. I was frozen, worrying my lower lip. What if I opened the door and recognized someone from class? It was obviously a college kid throwing the party. Maybe I would know the person? So what if I did? Wasn’t like I was going to join in when I was braless, wearing my jammies, and rocking the messiest ponytail known to man.

I turned and flipped on the bathroom light, staring at my reflection. Scrubbed of all makeup, the freckles on the bridge of my nose stood way out and my face seemed more flushed than normal. I leaned against the sink my mom would’ve laughed at and pressed my face closer to the mirror.

With the exception of my reddish-brown hair that was from my father, I was the spitting image of my mom. Straight nose, rounded chin, and high cheekbones, with all the cosmetic help she’d had over the years to stay looking fresh, we looked more like sisters instead of mother and daughter.

Footsteps echoed out in the hall. More laughter.

I made a face at my reflection and pushed away from the mirror. Back in the hall, I told myself to go to sleep, but I found myself walking toward my front door. I had no idea what I was doing or why I was being so nosy, but everything sounded… warm and fun out there and everything in here was cold and boring.

Warm and fun?

I rolled my eyes. God, I sounded lame. It was cold in here because I had the central air cranked like a mother.