"C'mon. Let's stop for coffee. My treat." Amber pulled away, her hand gliding along my back before she captured my hand and started tugging me in a new direction. She flipped her hair and flashed a brilliant white smile as we changed course and headed for the coffee cart. It was a common enough occurrence. She was always offering ‘my treat’ to pick up various snacks whenever the urge hit her. It had to be nice having that kind of money, especially in contrast to my college poverty.

“So how come I wasn't invited?" she pouted, her clear blue eyes twinkling prettily.

“Uh, it wasn't that kind of party." I couldn't help but smile remembering the strip club and especially Nataliya.

“Bullshit. I see that smug shit-eating grin on your face," she huffed.

I got all defensive. I didn't want her to think I wouldn't invite her.

“No, really. I-"

“Don't even worry about it. Jen told me the girls took you and Kevin to a strip club. How was it?”

I didn't answer. She watched me for two seconds and smiled. "There's that shit- eating grin again. I'm sorry I missed out."

Amber looked so unbelievably pretty at that moment. The light was striking her just right, her full lips so puffy and kissable, and her smile was dazzling. I wasn't the only one who noticed.

“Hey, baby!" came the derisive call. Two guys were walking the other way and obviously ogling my current companion. "Hot damn that's a fine ass." One of the guys whistled appreciatively.

Amber didn't even flinch, just holding up one hand a giving the guys the bird.

I stared at her for a moment as we kept walking.

She shrugged. "I'm used to it."

By now we'd arrived at the coffee cart. During a lull in the conversation I took a moment to appraise the pretty girl with me and the effect she had on other men. Amber was drop-dead gorgeous, and she knew it. She carried herself with a fire and confidence that I found inspiringly attractive. Her makeup was touch perfect, her clothes flattering, and her attitude just edgy enough to send a thrill through me. And now that I'd gotten to be friends with her, I was beginning to find I Liked her personality as well.

I wasn't dating anyone anymore. I was a free man. Would it be awkward seeing the roommate and best friend of my ex? Maybe. But maybe it was worth finding out.

We chatted about nothing for the minute or two in line. Once it was our turn, Amber spat out her order in rapid-fire: something-iatto caramel-this, venti-that. The cafeteria company barista didn't get it all on the first take.

Sighing wearily, Amber repeated her order, slowly this time, as if she were speaking to a 3-year-old. And then she stood there with her arms crossed, tapping her foot impatiently.

While the barista was then completing my order, Amber sipped at her coffee and kept checking her watch. We had plenty of time before class, but she seemed in an awful hurry all of a sudden.

She was still on edge when we both had our coffee and were walking to class. I reached out and touched her arm gently. "Hey, relax. We've got plenty of time.”

She calmed instantly at my touch. "Oh, I'm fine. It's just... those people. They're stupid and Lazy. That's why their people are so poor."

There was no vehemence in her voice, just a condescending superiority in her tone.

“Those people?" I wondered.

"You know, Mexicans."

ALL the warm, fuzzy feelings I was having over Amber washed away in an instant. I stiffened as sharply as if she'd physically slapped me. I couldn't help but do a double take back towards the coffee cart. I hadn't noticed the girl other than that she was a plain looking brunette. But as memory percolated I did remember her being a Latina.

Did Amber really just make that kind of a racist comment? Just when I thought she was mellowing out from her ‘Heights’ snobbish attitude...