ã€ŠSteadfast &amp; Fervidã€‹


 Chapter 1

    Catherine clutched her long-outdated phone in one of her hands, squeezing so tightly that if it wasn¡¯t a flip phone, it might have cracked. This was it: She was here. After an entire year of late nights and extra shifts at the coffee shop, penny-pinching and skipping meals with her family, she made it.

    As the bus came to a screeching halt, its standing patrons made way for the lucky minority that nabbed seats earlier in the ride, including Cat. She shrunk in on herself as she squeezed past her elderly man that accompanied her for the better half of the thirteen-hour ride, and quickly seized the handle for her duffle bag that hung from the overhead compartment.

    ¡°Hey, watch it!¡± one of the standing men cried as her duffle brushed past him. She muttered an apology, but his response was quieter, and far nastier, containing some not-so-friendly racist terms she chose to ignore in favor of rushing off the bus. Everyone else she hit with the fifty-pound bag was much kinder than Mr. Socks-with-Sandals, though the bus driver nearly shut its doors on her before she could leave.

    ¡°Oh! I thought she was homeless,¡± a teenager said to her mother as the doors squeaked open again. Couldn¡¯t blame them on that assumption. Who else carried their life in a backpack and duffle bag, and rode the bus for hours on end? Plus, after so long on a bus, she probably smelled pretty ripe.

    Cat jumped the last step to land on the sidewalk. Though they were still at least two miles away from the ocean, the air still held a salty aftertaste in its smog. The buildings behind her were taller than the ones at home, at least three stories high, and speckled with mold and stains. Her mother said the place smelled like sewage when they toured the college, but Catherine thought it smelled like a home away from home.

    Bay City University: a school with over fifty-thousand students, one of the highest dropout rates in the state, and a plethora of majors to choose from to go with their relatively cheap student housing prices.

    Her father didn¡¯t want her to move this far away, not with Papa getting so old. But her mother all but begged her to at least apply.

    ¡°Kitty-Cat,¡± she said, ¡°you didn¡¯t work so hard for nothing. Go where you want to. Make us proud. Get out of here and don¡¯t come back.¡± Cat had watched all of her friends and family members try to get out of Culosa...but with an unemployment rate of more than twenty-five percent, it was hard to get out, and even harder to stay out. All through high school, her mother begged her to work hard and find a way out. Maybe it wasn¡¯t her dream initially, but after hearing it repeated over and over again for four years, Cat eventually adopted it as her own.

    And so after a million times of reassuring everyone that this is what she wanted, the family--her parents, surviving grandparents, and her little brother--banded together to raise enough money for tuition for two whole semesters.

    Well, that was more education than anyone in her family ever got. She wasn¡¯t going to waste it.

    While Cat¡¯s intestines wrestled violently in her stomach, she hoisted her duffle bag onto her shoulder and headed inside the gates of the old mission.

    Orientation granted her better footing in this half-neo-Mexican-style campus this time around. It was just a month ago where she met random incoming students, played irrelevant games, signed up for classes and a dorm room. She knew her building, Casa del Sol, was near the South West Quad, closest to the sports complex and not too far from the main dining hall. Her roomie, who she didn¡¯t get to meet for more than a minute, insisted they had a great view of the race track and pool from their window.

    It was probably the cheapest building available because it had yet to be renovated, and was popular with the newer athletes, who partied and smelled bad. She didn¡¯t mind so much. Her floor was a mixture of guys and girls, but she was on the side with the girls¡¯ bathroom. Not so bad. And--was it Hannah or Harriet?--her roomie said that they were above the party floor, so they would be able to sleep at night. Being paired with a sophomore had its perks.

    Cat settled into her dorm before her roommate even arrived. She didn¡¯t have much, but her duffle contained enough collapsible fabric cubes to organize her clothes and supplies. She didn¡¯t anticipate to completely unpack by sunset, so when she threw her duffle on the top shelf of the shared closet, the oddest loneliness washed over her without warning.

    She was alone. For the first time ever. And, this was the first day of move-in, so she might be alone for the next few days. What if she hated it here? What if no one liked her? What if she failed and ruined any and all of her chances of having an actual future?

    Cat¡¯s stomach pain only intensified after her first college dinner of chicken nuggets and tater tots. Nerves, she figured. Tomorrow, she reported to get work-study assignment as a barista at the coffee shop. And from there, she¡¯d work 24 hours a week in exchange for her dorm room and an extra $88 weekly paycheck for food. Everything was perfectly calculated and planned...but the anxiety didn¡¯t lessen.

    As she curled into her bed in the half-empty dorm that night, Cat couldn¡¯t stifle the memories of orientation. Would tomorrow be like that? Name games, boring presentations, snotty rich boys? God, she hoped not. She wouldn¡¯t be able to survive if so.

    <hr>

    ¡°Alright!¡± the peppiest blonde called. ¡°Welcome to Orientation! I¡¯m Rebecca, and I¡¯ll be your hostess for the next few hours. Just confirming--group twenty-three, right?¡±

    Catherine nodded despite the butterflies in her stomach telling her to high-tail it to the nearest bathroom and hide. Looking around at the group she stood amongst, she was the shortest, as usual, but it also seemed like she might have been the youngest. Everyone looked so much older in college. This was a group of transfer students, it seemed. Everyone was dressed so casually. She was the only one wearing a dress. Did she look like she was trying too hard? One guy just wore a plain t-shirt that looked like it barely fit him in all the right places. Staring at him was a nice distraction from her sudden insecurity. If there were more guys like him around--tanned, slightly stubbly, strong bones--college would be a breeze.

    ¡°Great!¡± the blonde continued, ¡°My list says I have--and please let me know you¡¯re here when I call your name--Jeffrey, William, Catherine, Josephina, Caroline, Xavier, and JP.¡± Everyone gave the appropriate response upon hearing their name, except for JP in the tight shirt, who corrected her to, ¡°Just Peter is fine.¡± When Rebecca confirmed the required amount of people she was supposed to have in her group, she waved for everyone to follow her into a classroom with eight chairs arranged in a circle. Catherine tried to get a better look at everyone in her group by being one of the last ones to enter the room, but the guy in front of her, Jeffrey, was too tall to see over. Or she was too short.

    The room was older, one of the non-renovated ones, and smelled like colored pencils and moth balls. It was probably the carpet, which had seen better days and curled in on itself along the edges. Cat lowered herself to a chair, and began to examine the people in her group.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go around and introduce ourselves really quick. Name, transfer or freshman, major. Okay? We¡¯ll go clockwise.¡± Rebecca lowered herself to the last chair, closest to the only bare wall that didn¡¯t have any desks shoved out of the way. ¡°I¡¯m Rebecca, I¡¯m a junior and a biology major.¡± She gestured to the skinny guy next to her.

    ¡°Xavier, transfer, chemistry.¡±

    Next, a colorfully-dressed Latina. ¡°Josephina, or Josie, transfer, and dance major!¡± The petite redhead beside her exploded.

    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re a dance major? Me too! Caroline, freshman!¡±

    Josie exploded with excitement. ¡°Oh that¡¯s so cool! Hi!¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s continue,¡± Rebecca interrupted, gesturing to the guy beside Caroline.

    ¡°I¡¯m William, I¡¯m a transfer, and I¡¯m a marketing major.¡±

    Then the guy beside her, a dark-skinned, younger-looking man with an impressive beard. ¡°Jeffrey, freshman...and I¡¯m undeclared still. Maybe finance.¡± Did all guys get handed out Rogaine when they graduated?

    Cat tried not to freeze, and let out a shaky breath. ¡°Catherine, or Cat, or whatever, and I¡¯m a freshman, and I¡¯m, uh, still undeclared.¡± That wasn¡¯t so bad. She now looked to the guy sitting next to her, the guy in just the tight t-shirt and jeans. Easy on the eyes.

    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

    ¡°Peter, transfer, and math major...for now. Thinking of changing to kinesiology.¡± Oh, and he had dimples.

    Cat turned to look at him, cocking her head to the side. ¡°Like PE?¡± It was meant to start a conversation, but this seemed to annoy him, and he turned to her with an expression that looked as pleasant as his tone: ¡°No. Like kinesiology.¡±

    "O-kay,¡± she relinquished, shaking her head. Touchy, touchy. Well, couldn¡¯t have looks and personality. That wouldn¡¯t be fair.

    ¡°Um, okay! A game!¡± Rebecca chirped. ¡°This is a game to help remember names. You¡¯re going to be meeting a lot of people, and it can be really daunting and confusing. So I made a game called Assumptions that hopefully will help you remember everyone¡¯s names. Here¡¯s how it goes--we each take a turn, looking to everyone, and say one positive assumption about their personality. Like this. Xavior, I assume you¡¯re very bright because you have a difficult major. Now Xavier says an assumption about me, then I move on down the circle. Make sense?¡± The group shifted in their seats, some quite a bit more excited than the others. Catherine wasn¡¯t entirely sure this was a great idea, considering how assumptions were, but...well, it was worth a shot. It would be nice to see what people thought of her with first impressions.

    Xavier cleared his throat. ¡°Okay, Rebecca. I assume you¡¯re...I don¡¯t know, um...responsible.¡±

    ¡°Great start. Let¡¯s keep going, keeping with the theme of positive personality traits. Josie, I assume¡­.¡±

    Unfortunately, Cat spent so much time thinking up assumptions for other people, she could hardly pay attention to what everyone else was saying.

    ¡°Catherine, or Cat,¡± Rebecca called, stealing her attention. ¡°I assume you¡¯re really personable!¡± Oh! That was really nice to say. Maybe this wasn¡¯t so bad. She smiled.

    ¡°Um, Rebecca,¡± she started with uncertainty, ¡°I assume you¡¯re very--excitable!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s been said already,¡± Grumpy Gus Peter beside her muttered.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± Cat continued, ¡°I meant, um, enthusiastic.¡±

    ¡°Great!¡± Rebecca seemed pleased with her efforts, and turned to the Grumpy Gus beside Cat.

    ¡°Peter, I assume you¡¯re very well-rounded.¡± Catherine couldn¡¯t help but cock an eyebrow at Rebecca, who caught her. ¡°With the balance of math and physical science,¡± she clarified. Peter didn¡¯t miss the exchange; he suppressed a scowl, but seemed to shake it off.

    ¡°Thanks. Rebecca, I assume you¡¯re...uh, perceptive.¡± Pft. What a way to make it about himself. Perceptive, after a compliment? Really? When Catherine checked around the group for their reactions, no one else seemed to catch how arrogant that answer was. But the game continued.

    A lot of these words were shallow, transferable words one might find on a resume. Organized, prepared, and eager. A hard worker. When Catherine took her turn, she paced herself, speaking slowly. She hadn¡¯t thought of the second words for everyone, now that they had already really complimented each other once. To buy her time, she used far too many word-fillers, but she was desperate. she settled on assuming Xavier was a leader, Josephina was coordinated, Caroline was passionate, William was neat, Jeffrey was a great salesman, and¡­ Well, now that she got to Peter, she hesitated. While people were looking at her, being kind and calling her such sweet words like fun and thoughtful, she drowned out their talking by trying to find something nice to say about Peter.

    It was a sting to her chest every time someone complimented Peter. She wanted to call him hard-working, but someone already did that. Smart? Already said. All of the resume-building words were used by the time it was her turn to say an assumption about him. And she couldn¡¯t say what she really thought¡­. Arrogant. Snobby. Smelled like old money. His jeans were definitely not cheap, his shoes weren¡¯t scuffed. He was a prep who thought he was better than everyone else. But none of that she could say.

    ¡°Peter,¡± she started slowly. God, what word? Blonde. Uh. Green eyes. No, that was all physical. Strong? He had to be, if he was into fitness--and his shirt collar looked like it was choking his tree trunk of a neck. His arms weren¡¯t bad, either. Or maybe his shirt was too tight. He spent so much money on designer jeans, he couldn¡¯t afford more fabric for his shirt. ¡°I, um¡­ I assume you¡¯re....¡± Tall? Not physical! ¡°I assume you¡¯re...um¡­.¡± Her hesitation was starting to get awkward. What was a nice word for stern? That wasn¡¯t such a bad word. ¡°I assume you¡¯re stern.¡± Rebecca looked like she was about to say something, so Cat continued. ¡°I mean stern in a good way. Like serious. About school or....¡± God, how was she supposed to compliment a wet blanket when everyone else took all the generic, positive words?

    Rebecca cleared her throat. ¡°Do you mean studious?¡±

    ¡°Yes! That¡¯s the word. Yes. Studious.¡± When Peter finally turned to her, his patience had clearly stretched thin.

    ¡°Mmm. Catherine¡­. I assume you¡¯re¡­.¡±

    ¡°It gets really hard at the end when everyone¡¯s gone so many times,¡± Rebecca interrupted nervously. The group let out a courteous chuckle for her. She must have sensed the struggle. And the growing tension that rose like a slow-burning fire. But Peter and Catherine still stared at each other, unsmiling. Peter, leaning his elbow on his leg, just kept staring, looking up and down at her, judging. She almost couldn¡¯t stop her scowl. She could only imagine what was going through his head. She knew she looked like she was trying too hard, with her dress and everything, or that she was stupid if she thought PE and kinesiology were the same thing--which she didn¡¯t! She just wanted to start a conversation.

    ¡°I assume you¡¯re--¡± He looked to the ceiling, now, as if praying for some sort of ability to be a decent person and say any random compliment, before he settled on spitting out the word, ¡°talkative.¡± Catherine bit back a retort by pursing her lips, forcing her scowl into a smile, and turning to Rebecca. Talkative. Really?

    ¡°Rebecca, I assume you¡¯re very quick to think on your toes,¡± Catherine said without difficulty. The room seemed to let out a collective breath.

    ¡°And you, Catherine, I assume you¡¯re passionate!¡± Thank God that was over. But Peter still had to go.

    ¡°Last round,¡± Catherine muttered as she crossed her arms.

    When Peter started out, he moved a lot faster than she did. He pulled out near synonyms, ridiculous thesaurus entries. Reliable. Trustworthy. Real original. Words he didn¡¯t bother to waste on someone as talkative as her. He even repeated a compliment, but with it being so close to the end, no one else seemed to catch it. Or maybe they were giving him a break so this would just end already.

    He let out a heavy sigh before he came back to Catherine. ¡°Catherine, I assume you¡¯re very...opinion¡­¡± Opinionated? ¡°I mean, you¡¯re very...your opinions are¡­important to you.¡± She raised her brows, staring him down. That¡¯s what he was going with?

    ¡°Personality traits,¡± Rebecca reminded weakly from the sidelines.

    ¡°I mean--presumptuous. Or--partic--¡± Before Rebecca could find him a suitable synonym, Catherine let out the fire in her chest.

    ¡°And you, Peter,¡± she continued, ¡°I assume you¡¯re judgmental. Judgy. Or, sorry, particular about people.¡±

    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re just a delight, aren¡¯t you?¡± he spat while he shook his head. Rebecca¡¯s call to order went ignored. Time to take off the gloves.

    ¡°And you¡¯re a fuckin¡¯ cakewalk.¡±

    ¡°Classy.¡±

    ¡°Oh, get that stick out of your ass--¡±

    ¡°BATHROOM BREAK-TIME!¡± Rebecca shouted, now. Cat jumped in her seat, and she wasn¡¯t the only one. ¡°Men¡¯s is down the hall to the left, women¡¯s to the right! Let¡¯s go, let¡¯s go!¡±

    <hr>

    Rebecca kept them separated after that, like some sort of kindergarten teacher. But, when it came time to sign up for classes, there was only so much she could do in a small computer lab. And if it was one thing Cat and Peter had in common, it was that neither of them were very good at whispering. About anything. Least of all, insults about one another.

    ¡°Stats will be too hard for you,¡± Peter mused over Jeffrey¡¯s lap at her when she asked Rebecca about it. ¡°How about remedial algebra?¡±

    Cat didn¡¯t even bother looking at him anymore. This was the hundredth stab he took at her intelligence this afternoon, and none of it stuck anymore. Now, the irrigation was constant, not just when he spoke or when she accidentally looked at him. ¡°How about a remedial fist in your face if you don¡¯t shut up?¡±

    ¡°Remedial English, too, so you learn what words mean.¡±

    Rebecca looked insane by this part of the day, her hair stuck in a tizzy from pulling at it all day long. She sounded hysterical when she said, ¡°Stats is fine for you, Cat! If you got an A in trig, you¡¯ll do fine in stats.¡±

    Jeffrey sounded just as uncomfortable when he shouted, a little too loudly, ¡°My computer is broken and I need to change seats!¡±

    ¡°No you don¡¯t, Jeffrey!¡±

    Cat didn¡¯t waste any time. ¡°I heard demons affected electricity. Maybe it has something to do with sitting next to the Prince of Darkness?¡±

    ¡°Or maybe it¡¯s--¡±

    ¡°I swear to GOD, if you two don¡¯t shut up--!¡± It was Josie this time, sitting behind them. Cat wasn¡¯t an aggressive person by nature. But she wasn¡¯t a coward or a pushover, either. If Peter thought he could get the last word in, he was sorely mistaken.

    ¡°If you¡¯re done signing up for classes, you can just leave. This is the end of orientation.¡± Rebecca¡¯s announcement forced a hush to wash over the room. Suddenly, everyone studied their screens intensely, and clicked faster than ever. How anyone could be that careless about future classes was beyond her.

    Cat continued to compare times to professor ratings, and almost everyone had left by the time it came to choosing her last class: communications.

    Jeffrey scrambled out of his chair faster than his legs could carry him. When Cat looked up, it was just him and Peter left. And now their barrier was leaving.

    ¡°Shit,¡± she muttered to herself. Semi-fair teacher with no support three days a week, or less-fair teacher twice a week with more office hours?

    ¡°Just pick!¡± Rebecca shouted from the front of the room.

    ¡°I-I¡¯m done!¡± Cat announced right when Jeffrey let the door slam behind him. Communications three times a week it was.

    And, just like that, she saved her selections and pressed the power button on the computer to speed up the shutdown process so she could leave.

    She would have rather had a root canal than stay any longer in that stifling room without anything to stop her from punching Peter in the face and getting expelled. But, she was signed up for her first semester: Advanced Expository English, Statistics, Human Sexuality, Communications, and an open track and field class that just said she had to turn in proof she ran a mile a week.

    So long as Peter kept to his schedule and his own major, there was a very little chance she¡¯d have to see him again.

 Chapter 2

    Catherine had never truly felt loneliness before. Despite being completely surrounded by strangers, by new coworkers and potential friends for life, she returned from her Saturday and Sunday shifts at work to a mostly-empty dorm room, to a hallway where it seemed like everyone already knew someone and had somewhere to be.

    Sunday afternoon, she lay on her bed, exhausted from trying to memorize a new menu for a new coffee shop she now worked at, the special training that came with working on a college campus, and trying to memorize even more peoples¡¯ names. Thank goodness her coworkers had name tags. And, one she even recognized from orientation! So she sort of, technically, kind of had a friend. But Jeffrey lived off-campus and commuted to work, so there wasn¡¯t much of a chance to grab a late lunch with him. Besides, she didn¡¯t want to look desperate by asking in the first place.

    The last thing she wanted to do was text her family. She was supposed to be out with people her own age, without any care in the world. But curled up with her only pillow and the sounds of laughter outside her door, nothing felt like it was supposed to. Not like the way people told her it would. It was hardly Day 3, classes hadn¡¯t even started yet, and she already clutched her phone in her hand and debated crying to her mom. What was she, four?

    The frustration only made her want to cry even more. To make matters worse, she finally let the building pressure in her chest release, and turned into her pillow to let out a sob.

    But of course, her door had to open at that point.

    ¡°Hi, roomie!¡± came the familiar, excited voice. Henrietta! Or...was it Harrah? ¡°Oh!¡± Cat did her best to cool her face down with one breath, to suck in enough air and plaster on a fake enough smile to look excited, but the gig was up before she even started. ¡°Cat? Are you okay?¡±

    ¡°Yes! Fine!¡± Cat shot up from the bed and discarded her pillow to the wall faster than the last time she got caught dirty texting a boy in her room by her father.

    ¡°Sorry I¡¯m late--I mean, not late, but¡­. My parents live just twenty minutes down the road, so I don¡¯t have much to prepare.¡± Hannah. Her name was definitely Hannah.

    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s great.¡± Cat¡¯s friendly words were muffled by Hannah entering the room with three large bags, one on wheels. ¡°Can I help you unpack, or¡­?¡±

    ¡°Sure! I don¡¯t have much, but then we can grab dinner together after, if you¡¯re free? I don¡¯t want to impose if you have plans¡­.¡±

    ¡°No plans! Dinner sounds great.¡± Fully taking advantage of Hannah¡¯s momentary stress, Cat was careful to craft every question to be about her new roommate, her life, where she grew up. The next couple of hours went quickly, and didn¡¯t entirely feel that forced. The questions came up naturally after a while, and she nearly forgot that she was upset earlier until Hannah brought it up on the way to the dining hall.

    ¡°So, now that that¡¯s all done¡­. Were you upset before I came in?¡± Hannah was gentle. Everything about her was soft, from her round face, her doe-like eyes and her gentle curls. Her voice was no exception, and every bit of her words sounded genuine. Cat desperately hoped she stayed that way.

    ¡°I was just feeling a little overwhelmed,¡± she admitted with a shrug. Hannah seemed to have everything together. She was peppy, her parents were close by. Her siblings were grown and had families of their own, she had friends from last year she planned to meet for brunch tomorrow--which Cat couldn¡¯t attend despite the invitation, due to work. Thinking to how she must have looked when Hannah opened the door was a little embarrassing. How was someone supposed to react to a little brown girl crying like a child in their dorm?

    ¡°Your family live far away?¡±

    ¡°Culosa.¡±

    ¡°Yikes, quite a drive.¡±

    ¡°Even further bus ride.¡±

    ¡°They couldn¡¯t come to see you off?¡±

    Cat frowned. ¡°No, couldn¡¯t get time off work.¡± Any of them. Too busy banking money for her education.

    ¡°Have you called them yet?¡±

    ¡°No, just texted.... They haven¡¯t called me either.¡± Who was supposed to call first? Weren¡¯t her parents supposed to be calling her every hour, checking on her? Or did they just assume she was perfectly fine?

    Hannah opened the glass doors to the common dining area to let the overused AC air brush into them. It was a nice contrast to the heat that rose to her cheeks.

    ¡°You¡¯re going to feel worse for a little bit, then you¡¯ll call them, and remember why you¡¯re here. You should call them after dinner. Trust me, if it¡¯s as bad for me, and my family¡¯s close, I can only imagine how much it will help when they¡¯re far.¡± It was such genuine advice. Cat was taken aback, to the point of hesitation, before she finally nodded to join her friend in line for the Thai food they previously agreed to get together.

    ¡°There are quite some perks to being roomed with a sophomore,¡± Cat remembered her new roomie saying during orientation.

    ¡°That¡¯s right!¡± Hannah lit up like a Christmas tree. ¡°I¡¯ll show you all the good places to study and nap, and where to not get food. First lesson--stay away from the chicken nuggets.¡± Oops.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Everyone gets stomach cramps from them. No idea why.¡± So maybe it wasn¡¯t all just from anxiety. Maybe she was doing better than she thought. The idea, alone, softened the pangs in her stomach.

    ¡°That might explain some of the pain I¡¯m in,¡± Cat said through a laugh.

    ¡°Everyone always gets them first day because they¡¯re familiar everywhere you go, but they are literally the worst thing for you. Not even the line cooks know what¡¯s in that batter.¡±

    <hr>

    The final night of rest before classes was borderline blissful compared to the other days. Cat called her parents after dinner to say hello and catch them up, and her father only cried twice. Hannah was right about feeling better after. And she was right about knowing everything to do with the campus, too.

    After talking with her parents, Hannah offered a brief tour of the place, pointing out which buildings Cat¡¯s classes would be in so she had an idea of where to go tomorrow. The sunset was breathtaking, disappearing behind the trees. The orange and pink rays speckled the cobblestone walkways through the canopy of palm and oak trees, and from the gentle breeze, the shadows looked like they were dancing. At home, sunsets were hazy and angry red. Here, there was more pink, a hint more purple. Hannah said it was because the morning fog burned off a lot of the smog from the inner city.

    They returned to their dorm building at the cusp of twilight, and Hannah was already deep into the explanations on how each floor had its own culture: ¡°First floor is always the party floor. Even if a party starts on the second floor, it ends up on the first floor. The stairs are so killer. They¡¯re the tallest stairs of any building, so lots of people just fall back down on them. Don¡¯t ever use those bathrooms, if you can avoid it. My friend, Magenta, says she got a staph infection from one of the showers, just by being barefoot. Second floor, where we are, isn¡¯t so bad, especially our side of the building. It¡¯s quieter, since it¡¯s by the pool. There¡¯s also a duck pond by the football field, and you can kind of see it from our window. Anyway, third floor is usually reserved for the upper-classmen, if they still live on campus. They tend to be nicer, sometimes more expensive. Not many lower-classmen get to the third and four floors unless they are either very lucky, or know someone to room with.

    ¡°My friend, Cameron, who¡¯s just a sophomore, managed to get a room on the third floor, though. He¡¯s roomed with a junior. He was going to be roomed with a senior he knew, but that guy dropped out, and then this junior came in and didn¡¯t request anything specific, Cam got to keep his room. Actually--Cameron is one of the people I¡¯m meeting tomorrow. Him and Kelsey, my old roommate. Thick as thieves, probably not still sleeping together.¡± For the first time since Hannah arrived, there may have been a cause for concern.

    Cat¡¯s voice took a nervous edge. ¡°Why aren¡¯t you roomies with Kelsey anymore?¡± she dared to ask. Obsessive? Crazy? Boyfriend-stealing--

    ¡°She¡¯s a slob and it caused a lot of fights. But she¡¯s a good person. You¡¯ll like her. She¡¯s a lot of fun. Not as fun as I am, but still fun.¡± Oh, well. That was surprisingly tame. Cat silently scolded herself for assuming something more along the lines of a TV drama. She was smarter than that.

    ¡°Anyone to look out for?¡± Cat dared to ask, brows raised.

    ¡°Umm¡­.¡± Hannah seemed deep in thought as they made their way to the elevator of the building. ¡°Not really. Haven¡¯t met any crazies. But I guess, like¡­. Cameron, he¡¯s a bit of a slut. So if you like him, don¡¯t expect anything serious. The guy doesn¡¯t know what that word means.¡±

    ¡°Fair...so...you dated him, too?¡± As they exited the elevator, Hannah flashed a smile.

    ¡°For a bit. But it got boring too fast for both of us, so we agreed we¡¯re much better wingmen.¡± As they passed the open doors down the hall, Hannah waved to a few people, but mostly kept speaking to Cat. It was an odd feeling. Was Hannah a sort of popular person that everyone knew?

    ¡°I could use a couple wingwomen,¡± Cat murmured, more to herself. She wasn¡¯t exactly looking, but this was college, after all. This was what part of the experience was.

    ¡°Ooooh, you¡¯ve got the right roommate! Guys or girls?¡± Well that wasn¡¯t a question she¡¯d ever considered.

    ¡°Um, I think guys. I¡¯ve never been with a girl.¡± Upon admitting this, Hannah seemed to light up once again.

    ¡°You ever want to, you know where I live.¡± Huh? ¡°So what¡¯s your schedule for tomorrow look like?¡±

    <hr>

    Ugh. Peter. First Monday of college, ever. She had been working since five in the morning, and three hours into her shift, he decided to walk right in and ruin her life. Her coworker, Jeffrey, looked up from the tea he was making, and groaned, ¡°Christ. Here we go again.¡± She ignored his preemptive complaints and leaned forward onto the counter toward Mr. Overdressed Buttonup and put on her Customer Voice.

    ¡°Welcome to Jittery Joe¡¯s, Peter. What can I get you? Blood leached from newborn orphans?¡± Upon seeing her, he looked just as pleased to see her as she was, him, and stared at her with irritation.

    ¡°Oh, I could never finish your leftovers, Catherine.¡± The contempt in his voice sent an excited jolt through her stomach, turning her fake smile genuine. ¡°A plain, medium black coffee is fine.¡± With an empty cup and sharpie in hand, she looked up at him.

    ¡°Cold like your heart or hot as the Hell you run?¡±

    Peter scoffed, ¡°I¡¯d say hot, but then with how good you are with following directions, it would still come out lukewarm.¡± He granted her a small, sardonic smile. His dimples teased the edge of his lips, but disappeared too quickly when his expression faded. She faltered at coming up with her next snide comment, took too long, and now he just stood there, waiting for the next bout.

    Cat marked his order on the cup as she shook her head. ¡°Loving the unnecessary judgement, Peter. Six bucks.¡±

    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    He cocked a brow. ¡°Is that including the sarcastic comment?¡±

    ¡°No, that¡¯s free, just for you.¡±

    ¡°I thought I was feeling lucky today.¡± All smiles disappeared, real or fake.

    ¡°Now it¡¯s seven bucks.¡±

    ¡°I forgot, I have a discount code. It¡¯s called, Shut Up, and it¡¯s supposed to take off any added remarks from a Terrible Barista?¡±

    Cat narrowed her gaze as she leaned in. ¡°Sorry, Snobby Rich Boys are excluded from said discount code. But I can give you a complementary Fuck You if you feel free to give me the damn cash and Fuck Off.¡±

    He challenged her glare, and took one step closer to the counter and lowered his voice. ¡°How much for your permanent silence?¡±

    ¡°Not even you could afford that with your trust fund, Peter.¡±

    Finally, the next frazzled patron stepped up to the counter, eyes wide and hair bigger than a personal space bubble should allow. ¡°Are you done, or can we move this along? I¡¯ve got class.¡±

    ¡°Sorry,¡± Cat muttered. Caught off-guard, Peter jumped back a step and immediately began to fish into his slacks for his wallet, and she, with a sly smile, drew the most graphic, veiny penis she could instead of his name, and passed it onto her coworker to fill it up. Peter tossed the cash on the counter instead of into her outstretched hand and stepped aside for the person behind him to order.

    ¡°Just a scone and small green tea, please,¡± the girl asked before Catherine could fully greet her.

    ¡°Warmed?¡±

    ¡°Sure.¡± The grinding of the coffee machine nearly covered her answer, but she smiled and retreated to the display window to grab the scone and shove it in the microwave. She could have sworn she heard Jeffrey chuckle at her work of art on Peter¡¯s cup.

    Jeffrey set the coffee on the counter the minute Cat returned with a piping hot plate and pastry. Peter seemed too busy stifling laughter at his fancy phone to reach for it himself, so she couldn¡¯t help but take the opportunity presented.

    ¡°I have a black-as-your-soul coffee for one gigantic dick?¡± she called with a smile. When he met her with a glare, she winked and offered him his cup. He squinted, furrowing his perfectly-shaped brows in her direction.

    ¡°Really? Real mature.¡± His sarcasm fed her smile.

    ¡°Have a miserable day, you sack of shit!¡±

    ¡°If seeing you first thing this morning is any indication, it¡¯s a guarantee.¡± The dimples returned.

    The next patron slapped her hand on the counter. ¡°Can you just bone already?¡±

    As Peter turned to leave, Cat jumped at the shout. Really, no reaction from him? She had to handle this all on her own?

    ¡°Excuse me?¡±

    ¡°Can I have my scone already?¡± Oh, scone. Right. Of course. No one would be that...right. She cleared her throat and offered the plate, shaking her head.

    ¡°Oh--right. Your...sorry. Yes. Here you are.¡±

    ¡°You thought she said bone, didn¡¯t you?¡± Jeffrey mused once she left. Cat couldn¡¯t seem to answer with any complete words. ¡°I thought she did, too. That¡¯s some intense energy you two¡¯ve got.¡± Intense. That was the word. Instead of answering, she cleared her throat and turned her attention to the cash register to organize the bills left on the counter.

    The rest of the day had to go better. She had her human sexuality class at four, and communications at six, and then her exhausting day could end.

    And, if she was being honest and a little nerdy, she was kind of excited for communications. It was just introductory, but the method of speech was always fascinating to her. Maybe if she liked it enough, she could major in it.

    <hr>

    But no. No, no, no, no. Life was too cruel. Peter was a junior! What was he doing in a beginner¡¯s communication class? Everything was going so well today! Human sexuality was just a glorified Look At This Paper meeting, and she was actually looking forward to this class until she walked through the door and saw none other than Mr. Peter McFantsypants sitting at a desk in the front row, consumed in his phone as if it held the meaning of life. What a typical rich white boy. He wasn¡¯t even original.

    Before he could look up to see her, Cat scrambled into a seat in the middle and hid her face with a hand, as if she was suffering from a headache. Hopefully he wouldn¡¯t recognize her. She changed from this morning, wore a bright dress and let her hair fall past her shoulders. Hopefully he wouldn¡¯t think twice.

    People of all shapes and sizes filled the seats, until the final stragglers were forced to stand in the back. The professor, a stout woman that reminded Cat of a dwarf from World of Warcraft, addressed the room with a smile.

    ¡°Welcome to Communications 101! I¡¯m Professor Amber Harlem I¡¯ll start off by taking roll. If there are any missing students, I¡¯ll be accepting add codes. If not, I can only add the amount of students as there are chairs in the room.¡± Cat pretended to understand what any of that meant as she reached into her messenger bag for a notebook. Anxiety told her to rehearse how to say ¡°present¡± or ¡°here¡± a million times before her name was called. And, by the time the professor got to the ¡°R¡±s of the alphabet, she¡¯d perfected her tone in her head.

    ¡°Catherine Ramos?¡±

    ¡°Here!¡± she called clearly. Honestly, it was a little childish how much she practiced that. But no amount of reassurance ever made listening for her name in roll any easier. Maybe it was that B+ that ruined her perfect GPA in high school due to one missed class too many.

    After Cat replied, however, her eyes shifted to Peter. As expected, he slowly twisted around in his chair to look back at her. He looked like someone keyed his expensive car when he rolled his eyes.

    ¡°What are the odds?¡± he whispered to her.

    ¡°That you would be in a freshman class? Quite high, based on what I know about you so far.¡±

    Peter scowled. ¡°It¡¯s not a freshman class. And I meant that you would be in the section I picked?¡± As if he owned the section of this class!

    ¡°Thought I¡¯d return the favor and try to make your life a living hell, I guess.¡±

    The professor finished roll and immediately cleared her throat for everyone¡¯s attention before she continued. ¡°So this very first assignment is how I weed out the weaklings.¡± The professor¡¯s eyes lit up as she said this. ¡°Debates!¡± As some of the standing students in the back made their way out of a class they couldn¡¯t add to, there were even a couple seated people who gathered their things and walked right out the door. Eventually, everyone in the classroom had a seat, and Professor Harlem looked pleased with herself.

    ¡°Now that¡¯s settled. This side of the room--¡± She gestured to the side that Cat wasn¡¯t sitting on as she continued, ¡°is Against. The rest are Pro. I¡¯ll point to you and say a number, and that will correspond to your topic on this sheet. Make sense?¡± She turned around to tape the paper on the whiteboard behind her. ¡°Before I pair you off, let me give you the rubric. I¡¯ll be nice for this presentation.¡± As she took stacks of paper to give to the front row, she continued her instructions. ¡°We will study good arguments this week, so be sure to have read chapters one and two by Wednesday. Debates will start next week. I¡¯ll assign your presentation days later.¡±

    Cat swallowed thickly when she accepted her rubric, noting the tiny details and the acceptable scores beside them.

    ¡°Jesus, she¡¯s picky,¡± the guy behind her muttered. He noticed all the little lines, too. The debate was out of 100 points, and she took a full point away for every ¡°word-filler,¡± five for every point that wasn¡¯t backed up by a reference.

    ¡°Alright,¡± Professor Harlem said as she stood off to the far side of the room. ¡°I¡¯ll number you, you find out your topic, and you¡¯re dismissed. It may be a good idea to wait for your partner to exchange contact information to plan your debate better. Just a little advice.¡± Right as she pointed to the first person to start counting, someone blurted a question in the back: ¡°How structured is this?¡±

    The professor let out a small giggle, as if this was a hilarious question. ¡°Very structured. You can script out a winner, if you¡¯d like. We¡¯re just going to be focusing on form and etiquette for this debate.¡± And, without asking to see if there were more questions, she began to number people off.

    Looking about the room, Cat counted exactly thirty seated students. So there were probably fifteen topics. The professor stopped at the very middle seat, then began counting over again. Cat figured she would get topic number seven, confirmed it with the professor, then stood to join the ever-growing line of students confirming their topics with one another. They separated in pairs, phones and planners out, jotting down information and ideas while others awaited their debate partner.

    Cat stepped up to the sheet and raised her brows. The topics weren¡¯t without their baggage. Abortion rights, death penalty, media censorship. This wasn¡¯t high school anymore. They were heavy topics, intimate. Some were literal in that sense, even going over age of consent in certain countries.

    A tall figure loomed out of the corner of her eye. She didn¡¯t have to turn and look. She didn¡¯t have to ask. The day was just going this way, so it only made sense for Peter to also have number seven.

    ¡°Seven is the claim that violent video games cause aggression.¡± And a topic she had to argue for that she didn¡¯t agree with. Cat grimaced as she stepped out of the way for the next student in line, then looked up to Peter.

    ¡°Okay,¡± she said tersely. ¡°But studies show that video games don¡¯t cause any additional violence in society.¡±

    ¡°Great, so we¡¯re in agreement that we¡¯ll set it up for me to win.¡± Over her dead body! Just because she didn¡¯t agree with the assignment, didn¡¯t mean she wouldn¡¯t absolutely demolish him in every other aspect. Debates weren¡¯t about who was right, they were about who was better at debating.

    Cat scoffed. ¡°Maybe we should meet about this after reading the chapters and learning the expectations the professor has.¡±

    Peter shook his head and said, ¡°It sounds straight-forward enough to me. Do you not understand the subject?¡± The way he squinted at her, the way his lower lip came out to just a tiny pout. Her hand literally curled into a fist.

    ¡°I understand it just fine, but she said we¡¯re focusing on structure--¡±

    ¡°So follow the structure and you won¡¯t fail.¡± He said it so simply, with a shrug that just oozed pretentiousness, and shoved passed her like some sort of high school bully passing a nerd in a locker room. Oooh, she could kill him. Would it be worth paying a year¡¯s tuition to just go to jail? She¡¯d have to think on that.

    <hr>

    The rest of the week went smoothly. English and math were glorified syllabus reading days, and even on the second days of classes, people were pleasant and helpful. Professor Harlem was a bit strict, but she was fair, and was very clearly an expert. Classes were going well, and she generally liked her classmates. Except for one. But she could handle an hour of sitting in the same room as Peter three days a week.

    Tomorrow was the second Friday of the semester, and she and Peter were scheduled to be first to debate at six PM, sharp. Cat prepared everything she could, but even when she approached him after class on Wednesday, he dismissed her. Fine. If he wanted to fail, he could fail. She just wanted to give him the option to be an adult and work through their animosity.

    Throughout the week, though, Cat met Hannah¡¯s friends, Cameron and Kelsey, and true to her roommate¡¯s word, they got along great. Kelsey was a loud, skinny redhead that kept Cameron in line, which seemed to be something he needed. He was a tall blonde boy with stubble and a swimmer¡¯s physique--and was unfortunately aware of the fact that he was conventionally attractive. But he was nice enough. Cat could see how he would become a serial dater, incapable of anything serious. She could also see why everyone would fall for him every time he smiled, too.

    Hannah planned a party for Thursday night when she discovered her parents were going out of town and needed her to watch the house. So with the promise of meeting new people and smuggled alcohol, Cat enthusiastically agreed to be her wingwoman.

    But now that Thursday classes were done, and the party was just in a few hours, Cat stood in their dorm room that afternoon with her stomach full of butterflies. She decided to funnel the energy into finding something to wear when the days were nearly ninety degrees hot and the nights were nearly half that. How did anyone plan for that kind of weather?

    ¡°Thanks for inviting me to your party,¡± Cat said, smiling nervously. Her side of the closet was so much less populated than Hannah¡¯s. Her roomie turned around to beam at her as she continued digging through her drawers.

    ¡°Of course! There won¡¯t be too many people, since it¡¯s a Thursday and everything, but I had to take the opportunity.¡±

    Cat finally settled with some black short-shorts and a loose, netted halter top she wore as a bathing suit cover-up. ¡°I haven¡¯t snuck alcohol someone else¡¯s parents¡¯ house since high school.¡±

    ¡°Right? It¡¯s cool of them to say it¡¯s alright. I wasn¡¯t sure they¡¯d be into it, but after I said how much safer it was to drink at home, my mom was all, ¡®Oh, okay, fine!¡¯¡± Hannah let out a laugh until she fished out the bikini she had been looking for. ¡°Oh, you wearing that over your suit?¡± She gestured to the booty shorts and top she just put on.

    ¡°I think so. I don¡¯t have many options. I packed lightly.¡± Though the netted top was supposed to be worn over a tank top, and showed a little more skin than she normally was comfortable with. This was her first party, and she wanted to look confident. And, with enough sunscreen, she wouldn¡¯t get weird tan lines.

    ¡°I think it¡¯s cute. I¡¯m just going to wear regular clothes. It might get cold tonight.¡±

    ¡°I thought you said there¡¯s a fire pit?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but I always get cold easily, and I don¡¯t have a guy¡¯s sweatshirt to steal locked in yet.¡± Cat laughed at this. Her most recent ex-boyfriend, from before she moved here, got into a really lengthy rant about how he was so sick of Cat stealing his sweatshirts. She still had one, packed away somewhere. Softest thing she¡¯d ever stolen. Not that she made it a habit to steal.

    ¡°So who¡¯s all going?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Not sure yet. Still mentioning it to people, still hearing back from some. Cam and Kelsey, definitely, and Cam¡¯s roomie is coming, too.¡±

    ¡°The junior? What¡¯s his name?¡± Easy access to someone to flirt with would be nice, especially if he was friends with Cameron and Hannah. And if he was slightly older, there was a higher chance that he wouldn¡¯t be obnoxious. Maybe he had soft sweatshirts.

    ¡°Peter, I think.¡± Good lord she hoped that was a coincidence. How many guys willingly went by that name? Not many, nowadays. Hannah noticed her reaction.

    ¡°Think you know him?¡± She sounded skeptical. Why would a freshman from a city six hundred miles away know a junior? It shocked her out of her pessimism, and Cat shook her head.

    ¡°I hope not. So this is sort of an open invite thing?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, whoever shows up, shows up.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯ll be chill, then.¡± It was a little sarcastic. Things were bound to get out of hand one way or another. But, as long as the cops weren¡¯t called, it didn¡¯t entirely matter that much.

    ¡°Probably not, ha! But you¡¯re still cool to stay the night. No need to get a ride or anything. We have lots of spare bedrooms.¡± Must be nice. ¡°The offer is up to everyone. Rather be safe than sorry, y¡¯know?¡±

    ¡°Thanks, I appreciate it.¡± She didn¡¯t plan on drinking that much, but it might be nice to have a small sleepover with a few new friends.

    Maybe it wouldn¡¯t get out of hand. Maybe it would be ¡°chill.¡± Maybe Peter was a common name here.

    Then again...maybe not.

 Chapter 3

    Hannah¡¯s house was huge. All white, elegant columns, a u-shaped driveway with palm trees in the splotch of grass in the center. Inside, granite countertops, a fully-stocked dry bar in the living room, an edgeless TV inset into the wall. Hannah gave her a brief tour, showed off a family room and living room, and one of four guest rooms upstairs that Cat was meant to stay in.

    ¡°This place is a palace,¡± Cat murmured under her breath. ¡°Why the hell would you want to live in a dorm after this?¡± Hannah giggled.

    ¡°Thank you! It was a great place to grow up, I have to admit. Independence is better.¡± Cat didn¡¯t quite agree. ¡°Before we had the pool installed, we had a sand pit and a swingset. But, when I became a teenager, my parents had the pool and hot tub installed. It makes the back yard look smaller, but there¡¯s still space to have barbeques and whatnot.¡± As the girls made their way back downstairs, the doorbell rang. The stairs were wooden and freshly-oiled, slick and shiny. Hannah explained that with the right size of carpet square samples, it made for the bumpiest, but fastest, slide she¡¯d ever been on.

    Kelsey and Cameron walked through the door with big smiles on their faces and towels under their arms.

    ¡°How can we help set up?¡± Kelsey asked after quick hugs.

    Hannah gestured to the dry bar. ¡°I was going to start moving drinks and cups outside, if you could help?¡±

    The four of them started with the hard liquor and a wide array of shot glasses, arranging them in a way to keep the alcohol in the shade for as long as possible as the sun stretched out overhead. It was quite warm out, and there wasn¡¯t a single cloud in the sky this late afternoon. With sunset still a few hours away, Cat found herself looking forward to a cold beer. The trio set to work on filling a few coolers with ice, cider, beer, and a few waters, before Hannah finally shut the last one and looked to Cameron.

    ¡°I thought your roomie was coming?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, in a bit. He had some preparations for a presentation to make. Speaking of--!¡± Cam¡¯s eyes went wide as he pointed toward Catherine. Her stomach dropped to the floor. Prepare for a presentation. Oh god. This was where Cam recognized her from Peter¡¯s complaints. ¡°Do you have a communications class on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fucking him,¡± Cat grumbled as she slammed down a giant bottle of tequila.

    ¡°What?¡± Hannah and Kelsey asked in unison.

    ¡°There¡¯s this jackass junior who thinks he¡¯s better than everyone--¡± Cam interrupted her with laughter. ¡°What¡¯s so funny?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s just--no, no, you go ahead. This is going to be great. Guys, just listen. It¡¯s hilarious.¡± Cam waved at the girls to be quiet and listen, and Cat stared at him as if he grew a second head.

    ¡°I don¡¯t get it.¡± He waved for her to continue, and she glared at him. ¡°Whatever, I was just going to say how we met at orientation, and he was a complete dickhead, and then I see him every Monday morning at Jittery Joe¡¯s, and now he¡¯s in my stupid communications class and we have to debate tomrrow, and I gave him a chance to work together, but he¡¯s such a pompous asshole that he said no.¡± Cam looked like he was going to explode.

    ¡°What¡¯s so bad about him?¡± he asked, holding back laughter.

    She squinted at him. ¡°Um, aside from how rude and completely selfish he is? His holier-than-thou attitude and his stupid face come to mind.¡± That was a lie. His face was maybe his only redeeming quality from the neck-up.

    ¡°I don¡¯t get how this is funny,¡± Kelsey finally piped up.

    Cameron waved at her to wait. ¡°So when he gets here, you should talk to him for like, a minute, then ask him about her, and then you¡¯re going to find it so funny. Just wait.¡±

    ¡°What did he say about me to make you think I was who he was talking about?¡± Now the fire lit in Cat¡¯s stomach. If that asshole was talking shit--

    ¡°Honestly, I would not have guessed it was you if it weren¡¯t for him saying your last name. Promise.¡±

    ¡°Tell me what the fuck is so funny before I--¡± As she raised the bottle of tequila, Cam waved a hand for truce.

    ¡°Relax! It¡¯s just like, he¡¯d been talking about you nearly every day since school started, and then he finally said your name, like, yesterday, and I was like, ¡®There¡¯s no way that¡¯s her!¡¯¡± Damn straight. ¡°So when he said your name, I was like, ¡®Nah, man. You must have heard wrong.¡¯ And the guy fucking--straight up, was just like, ¡®Nah. She¡¯s the worst. Hopefully you never meet her.¡¯ And yet, you¡¯re super fuckin¡¯ chill, and so is he, but like, you guys hate each other from a stupid orientation game!¡± Cat slammed the tequila down on the table.

    ¡°That¡¯s reductive!¡±

    ¡°Okay, I can see how that could be funny,¡± Kelsey started with a grin. Cat glared at her. ¡°But like, if they spend the whole night bitching at each other, I¡¯m going to become an alcoholic.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be as cordial as he is.¡± The doorbell rang again, and Hannah disappeared without another word to fetch the next batch of guests.

    Cat didn¡¯t know any of these people, but she did meet two guys: Richard, a self-proclaimed Twink with gages the diameter of a quarter; and Javier, a short and fit soccer player, as well as a girl whose name she didn¡¯t catch that had legs longer than the day.

    The small group settled in at the lounge chairs by the pool and hot tub with beers and various mixed drinks, including a sangria that the girl brought. Cat settled with a beer, instead.

    Over the next hour or so, more people arrived. Even Peter. He came with a couple other guys who looked to have personalities similar to that of motor oil, both unsmiling and tired. Like likes like company, perhaps.

    ¡°Everyone have a drink?¡± Hannah called when it looked like no one else would come. There were maybe a little over a dozen people, all lounging somewhere or dipping their feet in the water. ¡°We¡¯ll start barbequing in about an hour.¡±

    ¡°Dibs!¡± one of the unsmiling friends of Peter called, suddenly energetic. Hannah let out a laugh.

    ¡°Of course! You¡¯re the best grill master out there!¡± She giggled. ¡°Glad I could get you to look at least a little happy to be here.¡±

    ¡°Ah, sorry. John and I just came off twelve hour shifts at the factory. Wouldn¡¯t miss your first party of the year, though.¡± Well. Maybe that was why Peter¡¯s peons looked so unsavory. But what was Peter¡¯s excuse? Though she completely avoided looking at him for the entire time, so she couldn¡¯t honestly say if he looked like a big of a dick as he was. There had to be a way he pulled the wool over Cam¡¯s eyes. Though...Cam wasn¡¯t exactly a Stephen Hawking sort of guy.

    It took Cat a full beer and a half to understand how Hannah knew everyone here. Apparently, her older brother went to school with a few of the guys that came with Richard and Peter, or she knew them from classes last year. It was weird, though, to see all these different kinds of people that didn¡¯t know each other come together because Hannah asked them to. Then again, people didn¡¯t really say no to Hannah. It was a little magical. All these different people, all different walks of life, hanging out because one person just genuinely wanted to have a party with them here. As far as Cat knew, Peter and the leggy brunette were the only plus ones--though still somehow connected through friends of friends. Small world.

    At some point while everyone mingled and Cat started talking to one of the guys Peter came with, Benny, Hannah brought out some bluetooth speakers to play some music. Benny was a junior chemistry major with a smile that took up half of his face, and hair shaved so short he would win a military fashion contest. He was a bit slow, but nice enough. He called her pretty, so she didn¡¯t mind his company. And he smiled when he spoke to her, so that felt nice.

    Cat talked to him for about half a beer before Hannah remembered something and disappeared.

    ¡°How¡¯d you meet Hannah?¡± she asked when there was a slight lull in the conversation.

    ¡°Art History class! She was one of my project partners. We failed so bad¡­. We tried to do a mod podge 3D Picasso painting. It melted just hours before our presentation.¡± She let out a courtesy chuckle, but found herself looking into the distance of the massive back yard.

    ¡°Giant Jenga!¡± Hannah shouted as she ran away from a garden shed on the other side of the grass. Cat squinted to see her carrying a big, black box, her feet taking tiny steps to overcome the heaviness. ¡±Drunk Giant Jenga!¡±

    Benny shook his head. ¡°Sitting drinking games out. Ended up getting my stomach pumped last year--haven¡¯t been the same since.¡±

    The small crowd let out sounds of amusement as they made way for her to step onto the concrete by the pool where they were conjugated. Cat rose from her seat a little slower than when she first sat down. Water and carbs would probably be smart about now, before she got tipsy off of beer.

    Hannah reveled in the attention of the small crowd. ¡°I wrote all the rules on the blocks. But the biggest ones, are you must always have a drink in your hand, you must take a drink before you take a block, and you can only use one hand.¡±

    ¡°So like, right hand drink, left hand block?¡± Kelsey asked from the edge of the pool. She stood up and took her feet out, and Cat, for the briefest moment, contemplated how refreshing jumping in would feel to battle the heat.

    ¡°Yeah!¡±

    Cameron shouted on his way back from the restroom. ¡°I¡¯ve played this before. I got fucked up!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the point!¡± Hannah dropped the box on the floor in the middle of the small group, and Cat moved forward to help her set up. The crowd began to circle around and fetch beers, Kelsey grabbing a few extra for Cat and Hannah, and Cat took her time setting up the blocks to try and take a peek at some of the rules written on the blocks.

    ¡°Oh god,¡± Cat sounded as she spotted one that said, ¡°all girls shots!¡± ¡°You customized this game, didn¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°I did!¡± Hannah announced gleefully, standing straight. ¡°Alright, everyone got their drink?¡± Cat grabbed her fresh drink from Kelsey. ¡°Okay. So we¡¯ll start on my left. Everyone in a circle!¡± When she announced this, a few people chickened out and backed into the lawn chairs or back to the poolside. There were only six of them left, now, including Cat and Hannah. She booed them, then pointed to the cardboard cutout of a personality that volunteered to grill.

    ¡°Can you get some burgers on?¡± she asked as she gestured to the built-in grill closer to the sliding door.

    ¡°Oh yeah!¡± He took off as if it was some sort of race, and the hostess looked to Javier beside her.

    ¡°Javier, your turn!¡± Hannah nudged him in the ribs, and he responded by taking a swig of his cider before reaching forward.

    ¡°So, like, we just do what the blocks say?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. They¡¯re double-sided. We¡¯ll just do the blue sharpie ones now, and if we see a repeat, we¡¯ll just flip it over.¡±

    Kelsey waved for Javier to stop reaching. ¡°Wait, should we like, establish boundaries or something?¡±

    ¡°Oh? Like what?¡±

    ¡°Like we say what we won¡¯t consent to before it comes up, so it doesn¡¯t ruin the flow of the game. Maybe if we don¡¯t consent to something, we take a shot instead.¡± Consent? The group seemed to come abuzz with excitement. Cat¡¯s stomach lurched. How many shots were required, here? And what would Jenga have to do with consent?

    "And,¡± Cam cut in on Cat¡¯s left, ¡°we¡¯re allowed to heckle you until you take your shot.¡±

    Hannah nodded. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s a good idea. I know what all of these have, so I can just ask everyone at once.¡± The circle tightened as she spoke, and Cat found herself between Hannah and Cameron. To her dismay, Peter wasn¡¯t one of the people to chicken out, and established himself between Cam and Kelsey.

    ¡°How bad does it get?¡± Cat dared to ask, clutching her beer to her chest.

    ¡°Not that bad, really. They¡¯re just like, Truth or Dare, take a shot, give Left a hickey. Stuff like that. Anyone opposed to kissing?¡± Hannah gestured to everyone in the circle, who all mostly shook their heads. Cat looked at her suspiciously.

    ¡°Is this your way of getting into my pants?¡±

    ¡°A girl can try.¡± The group laughed. Cat only smiled.

    ¡°Alright, what else is there?¡±

    ¡°Um, drinking, sharing embarrassing secrets...oh! There¡¯s a couple in there where you have to take off an article of clothing. I think there¡¯s only three or something though.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s fine.¡±

    ¡°And light touching,¡± Hannah added quickly. Cat¡¯s stomach jumped to her throat. Well, if she stood between Cam and Hannah, she supposed she¡¯d be fine with anything with them. Or anyone else in this circle that wasn¡¯t her obnoxious debate partner. But kissing and a boob-grab here and there weren¡¯t big deals, so...this was fine.

    ¡°I do not consent to feet stuff!¡± Javier said quickly.

    ¡°There¡¯s no feet stuff,¡± Hannah said with a disgusted look on her face. He sighed. ¡°Okay, let¡¯s go!¡± No one raised a fuss, and so Javier reached forward for one of the bottom pegs.

    ¡°What¡¯s the penalty for knocking it over?¡± he asked as he pulled his block out.

    ¡°Uhhh--double shot of your least-favorite spirit.¡±

    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°Ew. I guess that¡¯d be Fireball for me,¡± he said as he placed his block on top. ¡°Okay, Never Have I Ever¡­. Never have I ever kissed a guy.¡±

    ¡°Weeeaaak,¡± Kelsey muttered as she, Cat, Hannah and Cam took a drink.

    ¡°This game is going to fuck me up¡­.¡±

    ¡°Shut up, Cameron.¡± Kelsey stepped forward to try and take out her peg. ¡°One-handed...this is...hard.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what she said!¡±

    ¡°Penalty drink for being stupid?¡± Kelsey offered, gesturing with her drink to Javier.

    ¡°Agreed,¡± said Hannah.

    ¡°Pft. You¡¯re...stupid¡­.¡± But he took a drink like a good sport.

    ¡°Okay,¡± Kelsey continued. ¡°Kinkiest fantasy.¡± She brushed her red hair to the side, and turned almost as dark a shade on her cheeks. ¡°Um, fuck it. I¡¯ve always wanted to be tied up.¡± Plunk! She dropped her block on top of the stack.

    Peter approached the stack with his head thrown back to finish his beer, and plucked a block out without resistance. ¡°Oh...sorry, guys.¡± He laughed, but looked guilty as he showed the block to all of the guys in the group.

    ¡°Shots, shots, shots!¡± Javier started to chant. ¡°Tequila!¡± The girls laughed and relaxed a bit while the guys retreated to the snack table to pour their shots.

    ¡°This is going to get waaaay out of hand, way fast,¡± Cat predicted as she reached for a backup beer from the cooler.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t mind it,¡± Hannah said, eyeing the group of guys that stared at each other with their shot glasses in hand. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t mind with any three of them. Or all of them at once. I mean with Cam, been there done that. But if you throw in another person, it¡¯s a whole different game.¡±

    ¡°Jesus, Hannah,¡± Kelsey sounded as the guys knocked back their drinks. ¡°Haven¡¯t even gotten into the pool yet and you¡¯re already in wet clothes.¡± Cat choked on her swig of beer.

    ¡°What? They¡¯re all hot. Right? Even you have to agree, Cat. All of them.¡± She kept her eyes on one particular guy, the one she knew Cat had a problem with. He stood just slightly taller than the rest of them, grimacing at the bite of the alcohol. When he opened his eyes, he looked straight at her, and she ducked her gaze.

    Cat sighed. ¡°I¡¯m not blind. He¡¯s a dick, not ugly.¡± The girls giggled as the guys put away the tequila and glasses. Hannah started to fan herself with her hand; Cat fought the urge to mirror her. Half-admitting attraction was one thing. Fanning herself after Hannah¡¯s fantasy explanation would be a whole different thing. And even though she literally felt the sweat begin to collect at her hairline, she was still about two beers away from admitting any further truths.

    ¡°So you wouldn¡¯t mind¡­?¡± Kelsey egged.

    ¡°Not if he kept his mouth shut.¡±

    ¡°Same goes for all of them!¡± Kelsey piped up. The girls threw themselves into a fit of laughter, and Hannah seemed to light up.

    ¡°You ever have hate sex before?¡± But thankfully, the guys rejoined them before Cat was expected to answer.

    ¡°Alright!¡± Cam picked up his beer, still smacking his lips from the tequila, and approached the tower.

    ¡°Don¡¯t forget to drink,¡± Peter said. Cam groaned.

    ¡°Right. This game is going to fuck me up.¡± He knocked back a swig, then pulled his out. ¡°Drink or Dare! Someone ask me!¡± He plopped his block on the top as Kelsey raised her hand.

    ¡°Drink or Dare?¡±

    ¡°Dare!¡±

    ¡°I dare you to call in sick to somewhere you don¡¯t even work!¡± The group roared at the idea, and Cam enthusiastically fished his phone out of his pocket. ¡°Oooh, do Starbucks!¡±

    ¡°No, no, Ulta!¡±

    ¡°Target!¡±

    Eventually, Cameron shushed everyone to put his phone on speaker as he called the local PetSmart.

    "Thank you for calling PetSmart, this is Erica, how can I help you?¡± Cam covered his microphone as he giggled.

    ¡°Um, hi. Yes. This is...Jefathan.¡± Cat covered her mouth to try and contain her laughter. ¡°And I¡¯m calling in sick tomorrow because...I¡­. Because I¡¯m giving birth. Right now.¡± At that, they couldn¡¯t contain their laughter, and they couldn¡¯t hear anything over Cam¡¯s hush except for when he shouted, ¡°They hung up on me!¡±

    "Jefathan?¡± Cat echoed as she doubled over. ¡°What the fuck kind of name is that?¡±

    ¡°I panicked!¡±

    "You¡¯re giving birth?¡±

    ¡°Shut up and take your turn!¡± Cat took several moments to compose herself before she could take a drink from her beer. The heat from the sun made her lightheaded, so she hesitated before trying a block near the bottom. It was a little tough, but she fished it out, and straightened up. The tower wobbled slightly, and the group collectively held onto their breath.

    ¡°Oh! Pick someone to take off an article of clothing!¡± she read aloud. Everyone started to whoop and holler as she replaced her peg. ¡°I think I speak for everyone when I say, Kelsey, please take off your shirt.¡± The small circle started to clap, and Kelsey let out a loud laugh as she set down her drink.

    ¡°Joke¡¯s on you¡­,¡± she started before quickly tearing off her shirt. ¡°I¡¯m wearing LAYERS!¡± She revealed a tank top underneath as she threw her shirt to the side, and the group let out its various laughs and sounds of disappointment. ¡°Waste of a peg!¡±

    ¡°There are other ways to get you topless!¡± Hannah stepped up to take her turn. Javier let out a long breath and shook his head.

    ¡°Damn, Hannah. You¡¯re the real MVP if you manage that.¡± The group let out its courteous chuckles as she held up her peg.

    ¡°Hey, Cat¡­.¡± Her stomach dropped when she met her roomie¡¯s gaze. God, what did this entail? ¡°Don¡¯t look so scared! I was just going to ask you if it¡¯s okay that you do body shots with me.¡±

    ¡°Oh!¡± As the guys whooped and hollered, even Peter, to her surprise, Cat gave a short nod. It was better than where she thought Hannah might go. After she implied she found Peter attractive, she didn¡¯t like the wave of energy coming off her friend. Though she was in quite a mood--this might have been a way to try to get in her pants. That was fine. Cat hadn¡¯t quite decided how she felt about Hannah¡¯s advances, but none of it put her off yet, so she was willing to keep going. And, truth be told, it was a little exciting. She didn¡¯t hate the attention. One might even argue she encouraged it.

    The cheers continued from their little group to the rest of the party, the small group of people that hung around the pool and drank casually. The passive spectators turned into voyeurs the minute Hannah shouted ¡°Body shots!¡±

    Richard was the first to stand up and ask, ¡°On who?¡±

    ¡°Cat and me!¡±

    ¡°Aw. Be gender-fair!¡± Richard whined as he sat back down.

    ¡°Shut up! You¡¯re not playing!¡±

    ¡°I would if there were more guys!¡± Both groups of people laughed as the Jenga players headed over to the table.

    ¡°Wait,¡± Cat said as she turned to Hannah. ¡°What does the block actually say?¡± It didn¡¯t occur to her until this moment that it could mean that everyone else did body shots off of them. That was far more nerve-wracking. That made her cheeks burn.

    ¡°Oh, sorry. Here.¡± She passed off the block before moving some of the other hard liquor out of the way of the table. Cat¡¯s heart skipped a beat.

    ¡°Hannah¡­,¡± she started nervously. ¡°This says ¡®All body shot off u +1.¡¯¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°You made it sound like we were just doing them off each other.¡±

    ¡°I mean, I was thinking of a race. One team versus the other. Losers take another shot.¡±

    ¡°Good god, Hannah!¡± Kelsey shouted through her laughter. Cat¡¯s heart skipped a beat.

    ¡°Speak for yourself, I¡¯m not complaining,¡± Javier chimed in.

    Cameron seemed a little worried. ¡°We just took a shot like a minute ago. Now we¡¯re talking maybe two more.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t plan to go to class tomorrow anyway.¡±

    ¡°No one vomits in the pool!¡± Hannah yelled before hopping up on the table. ¡°Come on!¡± The next instant, she reached up to pull at the hem of her shirt to peel it off, revealing her bikini underneath. A few of the voyeurs from the pool made their way over, including Benny, who let out a wolf whistle. ¡°Cat, come on!¡±

    ¡°I--uh¡­.¡± With all eyes on her, a deep tingling played with the edges of her stomach, and she couldn¡¯t lift her eyes from the ground for the briefest moment, until air finally found its way to her lungs and gave her a slight reprieve. ¡°The--how does this work, exactly? How does someone ¡®win¡¯?¡± She took her time making her way to the table.

    ¡°I want to judge!¡± The girl Cat hadn¡¯t met yet walked to the other end of the table, behind Hannah. ¡°Fastest and cleanest shots win.¡±

    ¡°Cleanest?¡± Cat pulled her netted shirt over her head and set it on the end of the table to act as a pillow for her. She wasn¡¯t very nervous about being topless--she had her bikini on, and the netted shirt was more for fashion, anyway. But as she looked to the small crowd gathering, several with beers, some already cheering. Benny¡¯s eyes were stuck on her like glue, which only made her shrink in on herself a little more. He didn¡¯t seem so tired now. At least his counterpart was off grilling.

    ¡°Yeah! Cleanest,¡± the girl repeated. ¡°No spilled tequila, no leftover salt, no rushing and getting lime juice all over the place. No wasting!¡± This...sounded involved. Sure, body shots were some sort of weird mating ritual for drunk people to show off their skin, but--

    ¡°I mean, we should show them how it¡¯s done,¡± Hannah suggested, nudging Cat in the leg. Well--yes. She was going to need a bit of a stronger buzz to get through this without succumbing to nerves. ¡°You do me first.¡±

    As if someone else worked her limbs, Cat jumped off the table and approached her roomie, who lay on her back. First college party. She was not going to be the first one to chicken out of anything. The judge handed Hannah a lime wedge, which she popped in her mouth without hesitation.

    ¡°I--I¡¯ve never actually--¡± Before Cat could spit out an excuse, the judge raised a salt shaker and said, ¡°You have to lick a line on her stomach so I can put the salt on.¡±

    ¡°Right¡­okay.¡± The sound of shuffling feet behind her left Cat without the desire to turn around and address her new spectators. She knew what this was, why Hannah was so enthusiastic. She wasn¡¯t sure which guy she was trying to get to pay attention to her, or if this was all 100% a show for Cat, but they all stared at her like a piece of meat, now. And as Cat placed her tongue right above her friend¡¯s belly button to draw a line, the whoops and sounds of approval from the party reminded her that she was also just participating in becoming a spectacle. What would her Woman¡¯s Studies teacher think of this? Probably not much, considering she agreed to all of this.

    ¡°Alright, ready?¡±

    ¡°Pour me a double,¡± Cat requested before the judge could finish sifting the salt over Hannah¡¯s stomach.

    ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯m talking about!¡± Kelsey called beside her. Cat let out a nervous laugh and raked her hair to one side as Kelsey began to pour the tequila in a taller glass. When she handed it to her, the nerves intensified. Swirling in her stomach spread through her body, but before she could let any limb tremble even once, she heard a voice yell, ¡°Go!¡± and off she went, downing the drink, sticking her tongue out to lap up the salt, and then to Hannah¡¯s mouth--

    ¡°Oh!¡± But instead of the lime, she found Hannah¡¯s lips, puckered for a kiss. The nerves flew out of her with the laughter as Hannah revealed the lime wedge through her smile, and as expected, Cat used her teeth to take out the lime wedge. Laughter and small cheers forced a smile on Cat¡¯s lips as she took the lime wedge out, and Hannah sat up to wink at her.

    ¡°I see what this is!¡± Cat accused playfully as she tossed her wedge into the trash can below the table. The laughter cut the bite of the tequila more than the lime did. She wasn¡¯t as irritated as she pretended to look, and it seemed like everyone knew it, based off the crowd¡¯s reactions.

    Hannah let out a devilish laugh. ¡°Do you? Go lay down!¡± Giggling, she did as she was told and plopped down on her spot on the table, setting her head on her shirt and wiggling into a comfortable position.

    ¡°Okay!¡± Hannah announced before she took her time drawing a slow, thick line of saliva on Cat¡¯s stomach. The wind blew, raising the hairs on Cat¡¯s skin, despite the heat of the sun and the burn of the alcohol. No one commented if they noticed her sudden chills, though.

    Cat carefully held the wedge she was offered between her lips, on top of her teeth, and waited for the soft rain of salt to tickle her stomach. She let out a shaky breath as she squinted into the sun overhead, and watched her friend tilt her head back to a shot before she returned to Cat¡¯s belly.

    She thought that Hannah might drag it out, make it last longer, but in a blink, her tongue was gone and the wedge pulled out of Cat¡¯s mouth. Maybe she felt like she stepped too far before, with that kiss.

    As Cat sat up from the table, her head spun ever-so slightly, and the realization that she¡¯d actually had two and a half beers and two shots of tequila started to weigh on her. Liquid Courage is what they called it...and it was sort of working.

    ¡°You alright there, buddy?¡± Kelsey called from in front of Hannah on the other side of the table. Cat let out a slow giggle.

    ¡°Yeah, just starting to feel the heat, is all.¡±

    ¡°The heat, uh-huh.¡± And before she could call it something else, there began a light sprinkling of a saltiness amongst the summer air. ¡°So teams are right versus left.¡± Right what, versus left what?

    Peter started to ask, ¡°Wait, does that mean--?¡± but Kelsey interrupted by shouting for him to get ready, to stand right beside Cat while she took her place by Hannah. Wait, Peter was on her team? When did this get decided? But with splashes of tequila hitting the table and pavement, Peter now held a shot glass and stared at Cat like she was some sort of alien. He wasn¡¯t being subtle. She could see his heartbeat in his neck, fluttering like a bird, the way he stared like he couldn¡¯t process something like this with something like her. That just made this whole thing a hell of a lot worse, more dehumanising.

    ¡°It¡¯s just a game,¡± Cat said, more for herself than for the loathsome prick that hovered over her.

    Peter echoed her in a breathy voice, but he looked like he had a hard time letting that sink in. Asshole. It wasn¡¯t like she wasn¡¯t cute. He wasn¡¯t doing it off of a gremlin, the prick. Just as Cat was about to call him a coward, Kelsey shouted for them to go, and Peter slammed his empty shot glass on the table. His tongue was hot, fast, and raised the hairs on her neck as he made his way to her cleavage. Betrayed by her body, her stoic and stiff expression gave way to a surprised gasp when Peter¡¯s lips hovered just over hers. Her eyes flew open to see his, bright and green and wide, staring straight into hers. She hardly noticed him pluck the lime from her lips until he backed away, and the sun returned to blinding her.

    She hardly even shut her eyes to the brightness by the time the rain of salt made its way to her stomach. A cold lime edge was pressed to her mouth the minute another tongue lapped up the line of salt. Cameron replaced the cold of the lime with his own lips, and bit into it during his stolen kiss. Tart juice trickled into her mouth and leaked out the corners. As Cat opened her eyes, the crowd grew louder, roudier, and Cam took his time to sit up and let her breathe. She didn¡¯t entirely mind his opportunistic moment; in fact, it wasn¡¯t until he winked at her that she realized what he did, and she raised a hand to catch the juice running down her jaw.

    ¡°Right team one! Cameron left lime juice!¡± the girl by Cat¡¯s head shouted. All that and he didn¡¯t even finish the shot right?

    ¡°Shots, shots, shots, shots!¡± Oh, God. Maybe she shouldn¡¯t have had that double. She didn¡¯t anticipate being on the losing side. But now that someone shoved a shot glass at her, spilling some of it onto her lap, she had to wonder how much of this was really thought through, by anyone.

    She refused to think about it, and instead downed the rest of the drink and let her face scrunch up on its own accord. This was a lot, really fast. Hopefully the game would slow down after this.

    ¡°Timeout for bathroom break!¡± Hannah announced when Cat set the shot glass down. Before she could pull her shirt on, Hannah grabbed her arm and pulled her inside.

    ¡°Oooh, that was a lot, really fast,¡± Cat muttered when Hannah slid the living room door shut.

    ¡°That wasn¡¯t too much, was it? I¡¯m sorry, it was more of a joke--¡±

    ¡°Hannah, you¡¯re fine,¡± Cat interrupted. ¡°I meant the alcohol.¡± As her eyes adjusted, she followed her friend toward the guest bathroom, though her feet took a little longer to listen than she was happy with. That¡¯s what she got for not eating lunch, to start feeling it all so early.

    ¡°You sure? I didn¡¯t go too far?¡± Cat shook her head.

    ¡°It¡¯s all fine. But I appreciate you checking with me. Besides, I think Cam kind of followed your lead, there.¡± When they got to the bathroom, Cat took one of the hanging towels to wet it and clean up the leftover salt and lime. Hannah laughed and followed suit.

    ¡°I guess he likes you.¡± She wiggled her brows deviously. Kelsey pegged her for horny right from the start, but it wasn¡¯t until that moment that Cat saw that it wasn¡¯t just for herself. She was an instigator.

    ¡°From what you¡¯ve told me, that¡¯s not exactly a feat,¡± Cat said, flushing.

    ¡°True. If he¡¯s too much, just tell him to fuck off. He¡¯s pretty good at that.¡±

    ¡°No boundaries crossed yet.¡±

    ¡°Oooh, and the night is still so young!¡± Hannah looked far too excited by the sound of it, but Cat decided to shrug it off with more laughter.

    The girls finished cleaning up, exchanging giggles and predictions of the night until they returned together to Jenga.

    ¡°Finally! My turn.¡± Javier barely waited for the two of them to return before he plucked a block and dropped it to the top. The tower was starting to get a bit rickety, some bits rotating more than others, but it didn¡¯t budge when he messed with it. ¡°Give left hickey.¡±

    He turned to Hannah, who swept her hair to the other side of her neck for him.

    ¡°Hey, it didn¡¯t say where,¡± he started to argue. Hannah laughed and pointed to her collarbone.

    ¡°Neck¡¯s fine, loverboy.¡±

    ¡°Burgers and dogs are ready!¡± shouted the Master Grillman from somewhere behind Cat. She wanted to sigh with relief. If she didn¡¯t line her stomach before she had anything more to drink, she might break Hannah¡¯s only rule of not vomiting in the pool.

    But the group agreed, after Hannah¡¯s fresh hickey, to take a ten minute break to eat before continuing on with the game.

    If only that meant things would slow down. Unfortunately, the block Kelsey picked after dinner was ¡°all girls shots,¡± and any relief the burger would have given Cat flew out the window. Things only escalated after that. Peter had to kiss Cam, Javier had to take off his shirt (to no one¡¯s dismay), and Kelsey pulled a block that said the two people with the least to drink left in their bottles had to trade shirts. And so Peter ruined and stretched out her netted top and she now nearly swam in his v-neck.

    Although...netted tops weren¡¯t a bad look for him. He was a similar build to Cam, a water polo goalie in high school. Cat again mentally lamented that such a beautiful body would be wasted on someone with such a shitty personality.

    But now, two Jenga Beers and four Jenga Shots in, Cat stood in front of the rickety tower, her hands nervously twisting and pulling at the massive tee she now wore.

    ¡°She¡¯s gunna knock it over,¡± Cam slurred excitedly. Cat surveyed the blocks carefully.

    Kelsey stepped forward, bouncing. ¡°What¡¯s your least favorite spirit? I¡¯ll get it ready!¡± Kelsey held her liquor better than the rest of them. She was the only one Cat hadn¡¯t seen stumble, including the guys, who pounded everything much faster than them.

    ¡°Shhhh--shut up, I got this,¡± Cat insisted without a hint of confidence. She crouched down, selected a block with two gentle fingers, and pulled¡­

    ...and she honestly couldn¡¯t say what happened after.

 Chapter 4

    Cat didn¡¯t want to wake up. She felt herself become conscious, slowly. First it was the warmth of someone¡¯s arm on hers sliding away, leaving her gasping for the blanket that was haphazardly thrown on her. But the moment she moved, even just a little, her stomach flipped and flopped like she was on a rollercoaster, and her head began to throb beyond anything she¡¯d ever experienced. She opened her eyes just slightly, to the blurry image of a blonde guy in dark swim trunks slowly stumbling out the door. Was that Cameron? Who was that?

    But she shut her eyes tight and turned into her pillow, groaning to try and release some of the pressure behind her lids. But then came the realization she didn¡¯t quite know how she got here, in this bed--not even the one Hannah pointed out to her before. This was just one of the random guest rooms, Cat figured as she squinted and looked around. A clock on the wall read that it was just past six thirty in the morning. The sun was just beginning to rise over the trees, red and pink across the patchy clouds. Beautiful view.

    First, Cat surveyed her surroundings. Waking up next to someone left her with a slight panic, but she still had her bikini and shorts on, and there weren¡¯t any clothes thrown around. It was very likely she just fell asleep beside Cameron. That was a relief.

    Next, she stumbled slightly out of bed, careful to step lightly to avoid sending any extra pangs of agony through her skull. She just needed grease and water--that would make it all better. But she couldn¡¯t get more than two steps in before she decided to just lay down on the bed and hope it would all stop soon.

    Cat settled down with a pillow over her head, in a sort of Child¡¯s Pose position on the side of the bed, and waited. How much time was she missing? Her last memory led her to sunset, during Drunk Jenga, and that was...nearly twelve hours ago.

    The more she thought of the night, the more her head throbbed, but she was desperate to piece things together. She was semi-aware of ending up in a hot tub with a group of people--who, she couldn¡¯t quite remember. Cam was one of them. He sat beside her, tried to get her to play Truth or Dare.

    The memories hurt too much to think that far back, so Cat flopped onto her back and tried to relax more. She was among friends, and as far as she could tell, she didn¡¯t have sex with anyone. How bad could the night have been if she was at least sure of those two things? And, if she didn¡¯t vomit in the pool, the night could be considered a success.

    This was also one of the most comfortable beds she¡¯d even had the pleasure of sleeping on. Just soft enough, not too much firmness in the mattress, with lumbar support and down pillows. Sitting here, for just a while, made her mind hurt just a little less.

    Flashes of the night, or a dream, started to come back to her. She didn¡¯t know which it was...though with the sight of Cameron walking out the door waking her up, it was maybe a mixture of both. His hands on either side of her face, half-tangled in her hair, pressing against her with such fire, such a longing, breathing hard and desperate¡­.

    She vaguely remembered stumbling up the stairs with him, taking at least two breaks to just sit him down and straddle him, to steal his lips and kiss his neck. He grabbed for her as if she was some sort of life force, stroked her skin with such gentle ferocity that she couldn¡¯t keep her nails from digging into his back.

    ¡°Fuck,¡± he groaned through her kiss. And he flipped her over, the edges of the stairs pressing into her back. Hot and fast, yet gentle between bouts of unbridled desire, the pressure of the steps against her kidneys released when his large arms scooped her up off of them to carry her up the rest of the way. She clenched her legs around his waist, eager to feel every part of him against her. Every inch that separated them physically pained her. The only reprieve was his hungry mouth, his eager hands¡­.

    Cat ran out of breath just thinking of it, but let the memories fade. Damn. So that was why Cam was a serial-dater. He was--that was incredible. She¡¯d never felt so wanted, never had a feeling like that linger for longer than a momentary kiss. But his lips, the aftertaste of lime from tequila shots, the absence of it left her hyper-aware of how much colder she was without it. Good Lord, did she need to get that back.

    Abandoning the hope of sleeping any more, Cat took the pillow off of her face and willed herself to stand, hangover be damned. And so, step by step, she slowly, achingly, made her way downstairs toward the kitchen.

    Hannah sat slumped at the bar stool holding a bottle of Aspirin in one hand, and her head in the other. Cam sat beside her with his hands in his arms. Cat was about to announce her presence, but the sliding door to the back door opened again, and Peter stepped himside, tugging the bottom of his slight-wet shirt.

    ¡°Where¡¯s mine?¡± she asked, pointing at his chest. He looked like he was in a ton of pain, his hair matted on one side and his steps gentle and soft. She tried not to smile.

    ¡°Your what?¡±

    ¡°My shirt. You were the last one to have it. Or wear it. When did you get yours back?¡±

    ¡°You left it on a raft in the middle of the pool.¡± His voice was less than gentle, obviously bitter that he had to sleep outside or whatever. There were worse places to sleep than in a luxury backyard.

    ¡°Should have put it at the bottom of the pool so you¡¯d maybe drown while trying to get it.¡±

    ¡°Shhhhhh!¡± came a voice from somewhere behind Cat. When she spun around, Kelsey stumbled in, still in her tank top and jeans from yesterday. ¡°No shouting.¡±

    ¡°Where¡¯s my shirt?¡± she repeated in a whisper to her friend.

    ¡°Iunno. Hannah, is that Advil?¡± Hannah shook the bottle of pills in response.

    ¡°Just waiting for it to kick in. Who else?¡±

    Peter, Kelsey and Cat all responded at the exact same time, with various forms of ¡°oh god, please.¡±

    They conglomerated around the island counter, Cat stealing the barstool beside Cameron, and accepted the pills and glasses of water that Peter filled up at the sink.

    Cat took her share, then sighed as the cold water slid down her throat. Maybe it was psychosomatic, but she already felt better.

    ¡°So,¡± she started, unable to handle the silence, ¡°who took my virginity last night?¡± She expected laughter. She didn¡¯t think Peter would immediately start choking on his Advil, to the point of having to spit it out in the sink, and she didn¡¯t anticipate her friends to have horrified expressions on their faces. ¡°It was a joke, Jesus.¡± Though now it made her wonder if she was the only one missing time.

    ¡°Christ, Cat,¡± Hannah sounded through her nervous laughter. Peter recovered, coughing into his arm, and rejoined them at the island bar. Damn, nearly killed him, too. That would have been efficient. ¡°Couldn¡¯t handle that sort of pressure, being responsible for something like that.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, no virgin here.¡± Cat scrunched her brows together. ¡°Did we sleep together?¡±

    ¡°No, but anything that happens under my roof is my¡­. Wait. Do you not remember the whole night?¡± The horror from the trio melted to something much more mischievous, and Cat shrunk into her seat. At least Peter seemed as borderline worried as she was.

    ¡°Um...not...not really. I¡¯ve never--that was a lot.¡± Her laugh came out a lot more nervous than she thought it would. The group leaned in, though Peter retreated to the sink for more water. He was still clearing his throat, struggling to recover from choking on pills. Maybe that was why he didn¡¯t heckle her for not holding her liquor better.

    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    ¡°Do you remember losing Jenga?¡± Cam asked immediately, seemingly excited. Cat nodded slowly.

    ¡°Do you remember the hot tub?¡± Kelsey asked this time. Cat shrugged.

    ¡°Not...not really.¡±

    Hannah leaned forward even more, her joy almost palpable as she slapped the counter in time with her words. ¡°Do you remember...punching Peter?¡± Every slap sent a sharp pang through Cat¡¯s skull.

    ¡°I what?¡± Now she could tell why everyone was so fired up. Apparently the night was a lot more exciting than she thought.

    ¡°Do you remember getting punched by Cat, Peter?" Hannah nearly shouted, but no one yelled at her. Peter suddenly looked a lot smaller by the sink as he leaned against it, seemingly uncomfortable. She kept emphasizing ¡°punch¡± weird.

    ¡°Must not have been a very hard punch if I don¡¯t.¡± God, was she that bad at it? She never punched anyone before. She was a little sad that her first actual attempt at getting Peter to shut up went unremembered.

    ¡°Asshole,¡± Cat spat, rolling her eyes. Her friends immediately seemed to roar in excitement and laughter, animating for the first time this morning despite the alcoholic consequences.

    ¡°This is great!¡± Cameron laughed a little too hard, clutching his water and unable to stop to drink it despite his many attempts. Cat groaned at the pressure of her head, and waved for him to simmer down.

    ¡°Did we make out last night?¡± Cat asked him suddenly, more to get him to stop laughing. Cam nodded and sobered.

    ¡°That happened, yeah.¡± Though she didn¡¯t see any scratch marks on his back. That part must have been a dream.

    ¡°Okay.¡± She shrugged. ¡°I guess I remember something.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll take that as a compliment!¡± If it got him to stop being loud, she¡¯d take it.

    <hr>

    The rest of the morning was rough. The Advil took its time to kick in, and she still had some final preparations for her presentation tonight.

    To make matters worse, her half-dream-makeout-session with Cam kept swimming in her mind, and it made it incredibly difficult to focus on her notes. And with Hannah house sitting for the whole weekend, there wasn¡¯t anyone to hold her accountable. But this was her first presentation--she had to knock it out of the park.

    God, she was so distracted. Every other minute went from writing a few notes down about her sources to sitting, slumped at her desk with her head full of dizzying images from last night. Real or fake, this was--this was out of hand. After his presentation, she needed to find Cameron and...well, she didn¡¯t know what she would do. But she was pretty sure it had nothing to do with talking. At least to get this feeling out of her system.

    <hr>

    At exactly six sharp, she stood at the front of the classroom with notes in her hand. She dressed up a little with a plain, black dress, and she was relieved to see that Peter abandoned his usual button-down with slacks getup in favor of jeans and a regular tee. Casual Fridays extended to people with sticks up their asses, apparently.

    The debate started off fine enough. Cat couldn¡¯t get herself to stop shaking and staring at the clock. Every time she timed herself when preparing, she went over. But now that she presented, she went under the minimum time requirements. Was she talking too fast? She sounded like she was talking too fast to herself.

    She was hardly aware of anything Peter said. After the first set of arguments, they were given two minutes to finalize their rebuttals. Cat sat in a chair off to the side of the room and read her notes over and over again, but her opponent sat there and fiddled with his phone. For a brief moment, Cat thought that maybe things would go okay.

    Peter went first. She should have known. She should have sensed that this was going too well at the start. Now he stood up there with a suppressed smirk, looking to the crowd with a newfound confidence she didn¡¯t expect.

    Peter smiled when he presented. ¡°I have already provided substantial current and cutting-edge evidence to prove the scientific fact that video games do not cause aggression. The opposition has provided outdated and unreliable sources to try and trick you into thinking playing video games causes aggression. The Newman and Hart study, whom my opponent uses for almost every point, was published in 1996. Funny thing about that study, too, is that it as actually just a paper on a study that was done by Theodore Patriot in 1994, who initially conducted to study to prove video games and aggression were unrelated. Newman and Hart bastardized their analysis to try and manipulate readers into sharing their incorrect assumption, not unlike my uneducated opponent, here.¡±

    ¡°Excuse me?¡± Cat blurted out.

    ¡°One at a time,¡± the professor mumbled from her desk. Was she going to let that slide?

    Peter finally looked at Cat, calm and collected. ¡°What would you like me to repeat? The explanation about how your main source is a simple Google-search away from becoming a moot point or the bit about you being too uneducated to use Google?¡± Suddenly, the class was silent. Any whispered conversations amongst friends went completely static, and everyone finally paid attention.

    ¡°Continue with your--¡± Before Professor Harlem could move Peter along, Cat grit her teeth and interrupted her. The chair scraped against the floor when she stood.

    ¡°First of all, the Patriot study went on as inconclusive, and Newman and Hart¡¯s analysis were valid for the time they were being made!¡± Her hands were shaking. To prevent the note cards from waving attention to her fury, she clenched them into her fists.

    ¡°¡®For the time¡¯ meaning ancient and out-dated.¡± Peter now addressed the audience as if he was on some sort of talk show, being interviewed. The gall!

    ¡°We knew coming into this that video games don¡¯t cause aggression. The sources I¡¯m using are as recent as they come for those claims, and despite your lack of etiquette for debate rules, I never attacked your character--or lack thereof!¡±

    ¡°Enough!¡± Again, Professor Harlem fell on deaf ears.

    ¡°So one, you are wasting everyone¡¯s time by debating something that already has an agreed-upon answer, and two, you blame your inability to research on--¡±

    Professor Harlem now stood at her desk, and Cat noticed her for maybe the first time since the debate started. ¡°I said to shut up!¡±

    She decided to change tactics. ¡°Professor, I approached Peter when this was assigned to try and work together on this, like you said, but he brushed me off and is clearly incapable of working together--¡±

    Now Peter looked shocked, as if talking to the professor was out of line. ¡°Like you said, we agreed that I was right in the first place--¡±

    ¡°If you two don¡¯t leave my classroom right now, I¡¯m failing both of you!¡± A high-pitched whine filled Cat¡¯s ears. Her vision blurred from the rage; she could hardly see anything, could hardly tell that she reached for her bag at her feet and started her way to outside. Kicked out of a class! Never, in her entire life, had she ever been kicked out of class for anything.

    The crisp air of the evening didn¡¯t sting her, nor the blinding light of the setting sun. She started stalking her way toward her dorm building, but to her immense luck, Peter lived there, too, and he was headed in the same direction.

    ¡°You¡¯re such a fucking prick!¡± she screamed after only a minute of walking across a large pass of grass. Peter wasn¡¯t far behind her, but seemed taken aback when she spun around to point up at his stupid face and his stupid perfect eyebrows that cocked at her when she yelled.

    ¡°Name-calling?¡±

    "Uneducated?¡± she quoted with her fingers. ¡°You couldn¡¯t put your stupid ego aside for five fucking minutes, you have to sit there and insult me in front of the entire class--!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not insulting if I literally found a fatal flaw in your arguments by Googling with my phone during the break.¡± He held the shiny thing in his hand, taunting her, mocking her brick of a phone made in 2009.

    Cat growled, ¡°If you just worked with me from the beginning, we could have shared sources and had a real debate--¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re just mad that you looked like an idiot--¡±

    ¡°Yes! Because you sat there and made me look like an idiot--¡±

    Peter scoffed at her and crossed his arms. ¡°I didn¡¯t make you look like anything! You did that all on your own--¡±

    Cat felt herself explode. ¡°Oh my god! Shut up! You¡¯re the one that started mudslinging all over the damn debate!¡±

    "Mudslinging? What are you, from the eighteen hundreds? I was following the guidelines, I stayed within the rules--¡±

    ¡°Since when is acting like a two-year-old in the rules?¡±

    It was Peter¡¯s turn to blow up, now. He stepped forward fast enough to make her stumble back, his arms out to his sides, his head craned down to challenge her. Cat¡¯s heart slammed hard against her chest, but she didn¡¯t let herself step back more than once. He was trying to intimidate her. Well, it wasn¡¯t going to work. The heat in her stomach was enough to make her feel ten feet tall; she would not be the first to back down.

    ¡°You need to grow up!¡± he shouted at her finally. ¡°The real world isn¡¯t going to do all the work for you and just hand you everything on a silver platter!¡± Like he had any idea what hard work was!

    Cat resisted the urge to stop her foot like a child. ¡°You would know about getting handed everything, wouldn¡¯t you? Born with a silver spoon in your mouth, someone to clean up after you every day--¡±

    For a split second, Peter looked confused, but his anger burned through his expression. ¡°You don¡¯t know anything about me! Stop pretending like you know it all, because you¡¯re just some judgmental--¡±

    ¡°I know a spoiled brat when I see one!¡±

    Peter put his hands on the side of his face, his fingers straining to stop from pulling at his hair, until finally he threw his hands down and stepped back from her, surrendering. She¡¯d won.

    ¡°You know what? How about you just avoid me from now on and I¡¯ll do the same, okay?¡± He didn¡¯t wait for her to answer, and instead shoved past her in the direction of their dorm building.

    ¡°My pleasure!¡± she shouted after him.

 Chapter 5

    Cameron was just one text away. All she did was send him, ¡°Dinner?¡± and he met her at the dining hall within minutes. That was kind of nice. That was one thing she couldn¡¯t get at home.

    She wasn¡¯t sure what she was looking for when she texted him. A friend? A way to release this weird pressure that kept building and building in her chest? Just an hour ago, she was thinking of all the different ways she could jump his bones. But now, with her mind a little less on something sexy and a little more on something murderous¡­.

    Cam looked far better than she did, considering the morning they had. Color in his cheeks, even a pep in his step. She tried to sort herself out when she waited for him, but she didn¡¯t get very far. She was still stuck somewhere in between angry, aching, and anxious.

    ¡°Well, don¡¯t you look nice,¡± Cameron said with his charming smile, referring to her black dress for her presentation. She found herself mirroring his smile, even despite her mood. ¡°Craving for anything?¡± She tried not to blush when his eyes took their time looking her up and down.

    ¡°Something cold,¡± she answered, attempting not to sound too short. ¡°I¡¯m fucking pissed at your stupid roomie.¡± The previously-cheery expression he wore faltered. ¡°And I might fail a class, which I¡¯ve never done or even come close to, and I¡¯ll lose the only scholarship I have, and I¡¯ll disappoint my family, and have no hope of ever getting out of--¡±

    ¡°How about a deep breath?¡± Cam interrupted. Cat huffed at him. ¡°Food first, then rant?¡± Well. That she could do. She was rather ravenous. Maybe food would get her stomach out of its knots. ¡°Something cold¡­. The chicken Ceasar salads aren¡¯t bad. One might even dare to call them...decent.¡± She couldn¡¯t help it. The way he put a hand over his mouth to feign drama, the way he gasped; she giggled. Maybe he was exactly what she needed right now.

    ¡°Fine. No ranting until food.¡± And she kept her promise. She obeyed the etiquette of smalltalk while they waited in line for the fridge section of the market, asked how his day went, and didn¡¯t even get irritated when he said he slept the whole day away.

    ¡°Just came back and crashed. Only woke up a few hours ago.¡±

    ¡°Must be nice.¡± She grabbed them both biodegradable forks, and he reached for a couple cups for drinks. ¡°Just water, please. Thank you.¡±

    ¡°Could use more water, myself,¡± he muttered as he walked to the fountain to fill their cups. Cat spotted a semi-clean, plastic table by some fake plants in the middle of the food court, and set their tray down to claim it. Cameron came back with their waters, seemingly steeled for battle.

    ¡°Alright, lay it on me. I¡¯m ready.¡± He grabbed his fork like he was holding some sort of weapon, and stared at her with such a serious expression, she couldn¡¯t help but feel her anger sizzle away with the small giggle she allowed him to have.

    ¡°I guess when you put it that way, it might not be that big of a thing. At least...sitting with food and stuff, taking a breath¡­. I don¡¯t think I¡¯m going to jail for murder.¡± He remained silent, still looking up at her periodically as he peeled away the plastic seal to his salad bowl. And so, with his undivided attention, she caught him up since her rant yesterday afternoon, which really just...consisted of Peter being a dick during class, and then the teacher being absolutely unreasonable and kicking them out. She should still be in there, now, sitting and staring at the clock while two other victims pretended to take certain sides on an issue everyone already formed an opinion about¡­.

    ¡°So it just kind of escalated,¡± Cameron summarized when she finished. Cat pursed her lips, then finally peeled back the plastic seal on her salad bowl.

    ¡°Yeah. I shouldn¡¯t have blown up in class like that. I¡¯ve never been kicked out of anything¡­. I can¡¯t afford to fail a class, or to even get less than a B. But she said she was going to fail me¡­.¡±

    ¡°Nothing an apology can¡¯t fix,¡± he said with a full mouth.

    ¡°Hm?¡±

    He swallowed. ¡°Just say you¡¯re sorry. Go to her office hours, apologize for the outburst, promise it won¡¯t happen again. Easy.¡± He shrugged at her, and she tried to let his words sink in. It sounded simple that way. But the anger, the way Professor Harlem screamed¡­.

    ¡°Is it?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve done it enough times. It is. At least if you¡¯ve had practice.¡±

    ¡°How did you even get into this school?¡± It was a bit of a joke, though he didn¡¯t find it as funny as she thought he might.

    ¡°Sports, obviously.¡±

    ¡°Swimming?¡± He didn¡¯t have any tan lines at the party. And he had that certain physique that led itself to those delicious v-looking muscles that pointed straight down to the¡­.

    ¡°Yeah, how¡¯d you know?¡± When Cameron looked at her, she dropped her gaze and shrugged, pretending to be absolutely focused on finding the right chunks of salad to stab with her weird fork. ¡°You been checkin¡¯ me out, Cat?¡± His tone said he was joking, but when she looked up at him through her lashes, his smile had a mischievous edge to it. It damn near stopped her heart. Well, she did intend to hang out with Cameron more, in one way or another. And she was already feeling better.

    She feigned a bored sigh. ¡°I did. But I mean, kind of been there, done that with you.¡± She didn¡¯t look up at him again, but she could see out of the corner of her eye that he dropped his jaw, a little offended.

    ¡°¡®Been there, done that¡¯?¡± he echoed, still with a playful edge to his voice. ¡°What, last night?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I mean¡­.¡± She pursed her lips together, then finally met his gaze, giving him a look of pity. ¡°It was fine and all. But the dream I had of us after was hotter than what we had.¡± Maybe she was being a little mean. But by the way he scooted just a little closer to her, she sort of doubted he minded a little teasing.

    ¡°Dream?¡± he prodded, suppressing a grin. ¡°What happened in your dream?¡± His salad remained abandoned while she picked at hers with her tongs.

    ¡°Well, I can¡¯t be sure if it was you in my dream or not,¡± Cat started with a shrug. ¡°But we were--or rather, me and this Dream Guy¡­.¡± She regarded him, first his hair, then the rest of him, her gaze slow, borderline objectifying. ¡°Blond, swimmer¡¯s body¡­. Anyway, we tried to go upstairs, but we couldn¡¯t keep our hands off each other. I ended up just straddling him on the steps until we couldn¡¯t take it anymore.¡± Crunch. She stabbed a chunk of lettuce with her fork. ¡°The way he touched me, oh¡­.¡± She moaned for effect, but the intrusive thoughts forced themselves to the forefront of her mind, and for the briefest of moments, she could feel his hands on her thighs, pulling her close against him, her knees digging into the wooden lip of the landing. She returned to the food court in a blink of an eye, flushing ever-so-slightly. God, she had goosebumps. ¡°But then I woke up.¡± She let her words hang there for a moment, watching him out of the perrefrial of her sight. ¡°But anyway, sorry for getting off-topic. How can I apologize to the professor when her office hours are during the time I work?¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡± Poor guy had whiplash. But he recovered fast enough. ¡°Oh, um¡­. You could email her.¡± Suddenly, Cam remembered he had a fork to eat his salad with. ¡°Maybe I could help you draft it.¡± She smiled, catching her bottom lip in her teeth.

    ¡°Would you?¡± She tried to confirm his intentions with a knowing smile, which he returned, winking.

    ¡°Of course.¡±

    ¡°Great. Could you come over tomorrow, maybe at four?¡± It was partially to keep him guessing, to give him a little taste of the feeling he¡¯d plagued her with all day. Partially pragmatic.

    Cameron looked confused again.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got to head to bed after this. I¡¯ve got work at five.¡±

    ¡°Oh, that sucks. Working at five on a weekend¡­.¡± Yes, yes it did. Especially now.

    ¡°Yeah, every Saturday, Sunday, and Monday. Five-thirty to two-thirty.¡±

    Cameron frowned. ¡°You don¡¯t get a single day off, do you?¡± Well. She hadn¡¯t realized that until he said it like that. Now she frowned, too, with the edge of her excitement dwindling away.

    ¡°I guess not. But I worked like this ever since I was sixteen, so I guess I¡¯m used to it. And this past year I took as a gap year to work two jobs to pay for this, so¡­.¡± When she said this, Cam stared at her with raised brows, nodding as if he saw something impressive.

    ¡°You look like the type that can handle anything.¡± He sounded so genuine when he said it, too. Cat smiled.

    ¡°Haven¡¯t found something I haven¡¯t been able to handle yet.¡± And, just to keep it fun, she added a wink.

    <hr>

    Work was unbearable. Catherine couldn¡¯t sleep last night. Between bouts of excitement for spending the evening with Cam, anger that then rooted from remembering who Cam¡¯s roommate was, and terror of remembering why this all came about in the first place, trying to sleep eventually became more stressful than the idea of waking up at such an awful hour in the morning on a Saturday. And work always ended up being a competition of who was more tired.

    The afternoon promised to be better. So, after a quick shower, changing into a light, floral dress, Cat had her bag on one shoulder, and her in-progress braid on the other. Cam was going to meet her in the library in an hour; apparently he had lunch with a friend that ran late, and she did actually need to apologize to her professor, so she figured the library was the best place to start. Then, later, they could move somewhere else, if the mood called for it. Which she hoped it did.

    Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    Cat sat on the sixth floor of the library, in the computer lab section, with her communications book flipped to a chapter they wouldn¡¯t address until much later in the semester: interpersonal conflict resolution.

    No one got to a nearly perfect report card for every year of school life without a little bit of kissing ass. So here she was, reading ahead, to try and obviously sprinkle in some of the concepts from the chapter into her email apology.

    Cameron was late in meeting up with her, but she didn¡¯t say anything when he arrived. She¡¯d finished her draft, just needed his expert opinion.

    ¡°Hey!¡± he called quietly. The library was mostly empty right now, especially this floor, which was why she chose it in the first place. The rows and rows of computers were off and unoccupied, giving her plenty of peace and quiet to work--and giving them a little privacy if things went the way she wanted.

    ¡°Hey yourself.¡± Cat patted the desk chair beside her, and he sunk into it. Again, he was so much more rested than she was.

    ¡°Cute dress. You look good in floral.¡± Though as he said it, he seemed more to be looking at the hemline that stopped above mid-thigh while she sat down. Her cheeks burned, her spare hand gently stroking the bottom of her braid.

    ¡°Thank you.¡± She scooted over a little bit, and motioned for him to bring his chair over to her workstation. ¡°I started a draft on my letter. Could you look it over?¡± He waited until she looked back to him, rather than stare at the screen, to move closer, butting the sides of the wooden chairs beside each other. This was a much better distance. Or lack, thereof, considering their legs were close to touching, now.

    He was quiet when he read, frowning, concentrating. On more than one occasion, she smoothed out her dress in her lap while she waited. He was a slow reader. Granted, it was a bit lengthy of an apology. Two pages, so she had enough space to cite the book.

    Cam eventually leaned back with his lips pursed.

    Catherine frowned. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Would you mind if I edited it a little?¡±

    ¡°Oh, go ahead! Please, if you see any mistakes. I don¡¯t want to send it with any typos.¡± Though she was fairly certain that she had gotten all of them when she looked it over. Cam leaned over the keyboard and mouse, then scrolled to the top of the file, and began to highlight, delete, and type.

    Though she intended for them to be working this close, physically, he was far too focused as he typed away; he didn¡¯t seem to notice that she let his arm brush against her chest while he worked. And then, after about five minutes, she gave up attempting to get his attention and actually looked at what he wrote.

    A little. Sure. Cat stared at the virtually unrecognizable letter. From two pages to two paragraphs. No citations.

    ¡°Um,¡± she sounded, one hand tapping the book in front of her. ¡°I was trying to¡­.¡±

    ¡°You were writing an assignment, not showing regret,¡± he answered for her. He said it so candidly. Cat raised her brows. ¡°You are sorry, right?¡±

    ¡°Of course! I¡¯ve never been kicked out--¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t mean if you¡¯re sorry for you, I mean if you¡¯re sorry for the professor.¡±

    For a brief moment, Cat stared at him, shocked, borderline offended. Whose side was he on? ¡°Obviously I feel bad for interrupting the professor and for not following instructions!¡±

    ¡°It just wasn¡¯t coming across. It sounded more like you were trying to kiss ass.¡± He shrugged, diffusing her that simply. Her shoulders slouched.

    ¡°Did you keep anything I said?¡±

    ¡°Oh, of course I did. I kept the first and last sentence of every paragraph, and just combined them in some cases. Look.¡± He gestured to the screen for her to look. She was skeptical, but he was true to his word. It still felt a bit light to her, though.

    ¡°How will she know I mean what I said?¡± Her fingers picked at themselves in her lap as she looked for his answers. He was gentle, and turned in his chair to face her completely and place a warm hand on her knee.

    ¡°Because you do. Adding to the word count isn¡¯t going to change that.¡± Cat could only blink at him. This was Man-Slut Cam? The one who couldn¡¯t handle anything serious at all, slept with anyone he could? Hannah didn¡¯t really give him justice. Then again, wise people could still have inextinguishable sex drives.

    With a small smile, Cat placed a hand on his to give it a small squeeze--and to, subtly, bring it up her thigh an inch or two.

    ¡°That¡¯s some fortune cookie gold, there.¡± Saying this prompted a laugh from him. ¡°I guess I should print it.¡±

    ¡°Did you want to still hang out?¡± He still hadn¡¯t moved his hand away, and she didn¡¯t make any attempts to move it for him. He looked at her, studying her expression. When his eyes drifted to her lips, she was thrown into her memory of the other night, the intense make-out session that put her on such an edge. Her cheeks burned.

    ¡°I was hoping to. Hannah¡¯s still house-sitting.¡± His eyes snapped to hers. She wasn¡¯t being very subtle, she realized when his expression shifted to something a little more mischievous.

    ¡°Sure,¡± Cam said with a smile, ¡°sounds like fun. Are you happy with your letter?¡± She hadn¡¯t decided yet. Her smile faltered.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to read it a couple times again, just to see. Should I print it or email it?¡±

    ¡°Printing and presenting it in person seems more sincere,¡± he replied without missing a beat. She nodded, then leaned closer to the computer to scan the letter a couple more times. His hand remained right on her thigh, and she brushed it gently with her thumb to reassure him that it was okay with her. She did notice, however, that he inched a little further in on her leg, and now his fingers brushed against the hemline of her dress. Smiling to herself, Catherine took her hand away to move the mouse cursor over to the ¡°Print¡± button, and Cam took the opportunity to lean a little closer. After she selected which printer to go to, she hesitated at fully returning to her seat, and twisted a little to look at him. He used his free hand to play with the ends of her braid on her back.

    ¡°You smell really good. Coconut?¡± She nodded, and leaned back to let him drape his arm over her shoulder. Not the smoothest of moves, but it was better than pretending to yawn to get his arm around her.

    ¡°I put coconut oil in my hair before I wash it.¡±

    ¡°You smell like a summer vacation--like a pina colada or something.¡± Or something. Cat offered him a giggle, snuggling a little closer.

    ¡°A little less alcohol content at the moment.¡±

    ¡°Just as intoxicating.¡± She gave him a full laugh at that. If he didn¡¯t say something so stupid just now, she might have let him lean in to kiss her. But when he leaned in, she decided he deserved a little more teasing, and stood up right at that moment. Cam seemed confused, a little worried when she stood up so quickly, but she reassured him by leaning down, inches from his face.

    ¡°Just going to go pay for my letter. Then we can head back to my place.¡± The tension grew, but before Cameron had any chance to help alleviate it, she swept her bag up from the floor and headed toward the printer tables.

    Cat smiled to herself as she dug in her bag for her wallet. This was going well. Cam was an apology expert and he was into her advances. The anticipation of some sort of relief from this constant growing heat in her gut just intensified as she approached the payment kiosk. She clicked for the name of her document, then pulled out a dime and a nickel for the coin slot.

    For a brief moment, she let herself get distracted and considered pressing the option to buy a Printer Card Account, but the moment she dropped her wallet back in her bag, she felt a presence behind her. His hands gently rested on her hips. In the reflection of the screen, she watched Cameron dip his head to plant a light kiss on her shoulder. To welcome the chills that ran down her spine, she tipped her head so he could access her neck more easily.

    Finally, he stepped up completely flush against her back, his warmth seeping through her clothes and lighting her skin on fire. His lips were so soft up and down her neck; she leaned into him, fully accepting his affection with bated breath.

    But she only let herself enjoy this sensation for a moment. Cat twisted around to pause his gestures, though his hands remained on her hips and now gripped her tighter. Be strong, Cat! she told herself.

    ¡°We¡¯re in a library,¡± she reminded him in a whisper. Cam chuckled, then leaned forward until their foreheads were touching. Catherine fought the urge to close her eyes.

    ¡°Then we¡¯ll have to be quiet, won¡¯t we?¡± If he didn¡¯t immediately close the space to kiss her, she would have moaned. Her purse dropped from her shoulder, thumping by their feet as his lips crushed hers, hot and fast and hungry. Her heart hammered hard in her chest; giving in, her arms snaked up to his shoulders and she tangled her hands in his hair to keep his lips on hers.

    Kissing him was different sober. Back at the party, he seemed to be trying to restrain himself, but now, his fingers dug into her hips, he pressed himself into her, her back against the kiosk she still had to complete her transaction with. The cold metal shocked her skin, was such a strong contrast to his warm hands. One of them snaked down her leg a little, urging her to move it just slightly. Without a second thought, she lifted it to curl it around his hip, giving him better access to step closer, between her legs. He broke away from her lips to continue kissing her neck; she arched to accommodate him, intensifying the warm tingles that spread up through her most sensitive nerve endings.

    Cameron grinded against her with his one hand snaking further up her thigh, underneath her dress, inching underneath her underwear as he pulled her against his movements. Oh god. Was this happening right now?

    Cat leaned her head back against the kiosk, out of breath. ¡°What if someone sees?¡±

    His breath was hot on her ear. ¡°Then they¡¯ll have a show.¡± She didn¡¯t mean to moan. She did manage to stop it half way, but couldn¡¯t help but let it go completely when he nibbled on her ear. But reason muttered in the back of her mind.

    ¡°I don¡¯t--we have to go back to my place,¡± she breathed. ¡°I don¡¯t have--oh!--protection.¡±

    ¡°I do.¡± Oh, did he? Who was playing who¡¯s game?

    But Cat still had her hesitations. ¡°I¡¯m allergic to latex, so unless¡­.¡± At this, Cameron finally sighed and slipped his hand out from under her dress. All it did was stoke the fire inside her.

    ¡°Should I run to the store?¡± She had a feeling it¡¯d be the fastest run to the store he¡¯d ever done, but she shook her head, finally looking to him.

    ¡°I have some in my room. Let me just print my paper.¡± Unfortunately, the damn machine timed out, so she had to pay an additional fifteen cents while Cameron ran his hands down her back and kissed her neck and kept overall being very distracting. But eventually she seized her paper from the printer, folded it into thirds, and shoved it in her bag so they could rush to the elevators for a little more guaranteed privacy.

    It was difficult to keep things as tame when the elevator doors guaranteed at least a few seconds of privacy. The string of tension pulled tighter and tighter as they descended into the light traffic of campus on a Saturday; thankfully, it was just across the quad to the giant grassy hill that separated them from their dorm building.

    They joked on their way, giggling too easily at jokes that weren¡¯t that funny, just to get out some of the nervous energy that crept up on them the longer their hands weren¡¯t exploring one another¡¯s bodies. Eventually, Cat settled on lightly holding Cameron¡¯s hand, mostly at the fingertips, as their dorm came into view.

    ¡°Oh, look, there¡¯s Peter!¡± Now why did he have to go and ruin the mood like that? ¡°Off to work again?¡± Cat squinted into the sunlight and used her free hand to shield her face. Peter walked out of the main doors of the dorm, dressed in his usual button-up and dress pants. Did Cam say ¡°work¡±?

    Peter frowned at his roommate, eyes flickering to Cat. ¡°Yeah, picked up an extra shift.¡± His icy gaze then dropped just a bit to their entwined fingers; an eyebrow twitched, judging. ¡°See you later. Have fun with that.¡± And before she could yell at him for calling her a that, Peter continued on his way, and Cameron pulled her forward, toward the doors.

    ¡°What a prick,¡± Cat muttered as they went inside. Cameron asked her what she said, but she didn¡¯t repeat herself and instead led him to the elevator.

    The instant she was able to shut her dorm room door, Cameron returned to the hot and heavy touching, kissing, licking, nibbling. His hands were all over her, exploring every inch, removing her clothing faster than she¡¯d ever been able to do on her own.

    He was generous, in both delaying himself and ensuring she was at least twice as satisfied as he was before he let himself finish. She never found herself wanting; wherever she put his hands, he stayed there and pinched, kneaded, rubbed until she told him otherwise. Every moan she awarded him with gave him new vigor, made him work harder and faster until she seized around him, breathless and dizzy.

    As much as Cat enjoyed herself, and as much as she would do it again, it wasn¡¯t what she expected. Cameron collapsed on her bed beside her, clearly pleased with himself. She wasn¡¯t sure what feeling she thought this would bring. But she thought it would be something. Instead, she lay there, a little tired and a little less horny, but that was it. The relief didn¡¯t bring anything with it. No feeling of completeness, no fulfillment.

    Cameron stared at her, his arms acting as a pillow for his head, and grinned. ¡°Ten out of ten, would do again?¡±

 Chapter 6

    It just didn¡¯t make sense. Cam was what she¡¯d been craving the past few days, she had her fill, and that should have been enough. But for some reason, as he settled into her bed beside her with an arm around her shoulders, she couldn¡¯t help but feel like she wasn¡¯t fulfilled.

    And how greedy did she sound, after how great he was!

    ¡°Feel any better?¡± he asked by her ear. He lay gentle kisses on her neck, which she smiled at. His affection was very nice. Even though the swelling in her chest remained, the rest of her felt just as contented as it possibly could have been. Cameron encouraged her to snuggle up beside him, under just the top sheet of her bed due to the heat, and she let her head rest on his chest. He was very comfortable--he was even the kind of guy that had sweat that didn¡¯t smell terrible. It was just musky, something she didn¡¯t mind cuddling right up to and holding for just a couple minutes.

    ¡°I feel much better,¡± she answered honestly. Not what she wanted, but close. Cam chuckled as he brushed his hand over her arms, encouraging her to hold tightly. He might not have been into anything more serious than what this was, but at least he still went through all the motions an act this intimate entailed.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got a question for you, Cat,¡± he started a little cautiously. Her smile faded. ¡°At the risk of ruining the mood¡­.¡± The tone in his voice gave away that he¡¯d been holding this thought in for a while. Frowning, Cat sat up, slipping out of his embrace and letting the sheet that covered them fall at her waist when she faced him. At first, he seemed distracted by her, staring at her up and down. It was flattering, but now her stomach was made of stone in anticipation.

    Flushed, Cat cleared her throat. ¡°Your question?¡± He blinked.

    ¡°Right. Sorry.¡± Pursing his lips, Cameron then scooted himself up to lean against her pillows, sitting just as she did. ¡°Little weird, but--why do you think Peter¡¯s a trust fund baby?¡±

    Could someone get physical injuries from verbal whiplash? ¡°Huh?¡± was all she managed to utter.

    ¡°A lot of your insults to Peter are about money, and I was just wondering where you got that from.¡±

    The tiniest bit of heat ignited in her stomach, responding in a way it was used to whenever thoughts of Peter popped into her mind. Why on Earth would Cam bring up his roommate? But, she could tell, looking at him, that he was genuinely wondering. Well. Maybe people like Cam didn¡¯t understand the fight or flight that happened around people like Peter. Maybe he was never bullied, never a favored target.

    Cat chewed on her inner lip, then shrugged. ¡°I can just tell,¡± she said. ¡°Like, during orientation, he wore designer jeans. My aunts and uncles were criticized for only being able to afford jeans, and he¡¯s one of those people that goes out and spends half a thousand dollars on pants to wear a Poor People Costume.¡± She didn¡¯t expect Cam to understand. He seemed surprised by her words, so she continued, ¡°And on top of that, he¡¯s got a two-thousand dollar phone he just waves around like it¡¯s life support. And it doesn¡¯t even have a cover, because god forbid no one knew it was the newest and greatest version--¡±

    ¡°Cat..?¡±

    ¡°--and this is going to sound really weird,¡± she continued before he could fully interrupt her; she halted him with a finger. ¡°But it¡¯s the way that he walks, too. Like while the rest of us were learning to walk, we were worried about where we were going, but he was taught to worry how he was going or something. I know it doesn¡¯t make any sense, and I know it¡¯s irrational, but now at this point, it¡¯s more about how he¡¯s being such a dick whenever I¡¯m around him--!¡±

    ¡°Okay!¡± Cam finally interrupted, waving a hand. ¡°Sorry, I didn¡¯t mean to get you worked up.¡± Cat deflated against the wall, allowing the cool paint to reduce her temper.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I got carried away.¡± He smiled at her and placed a hand on one of her thighs as a way of saying it was fine.

    ¡°Don¡¯t apologise for being passionate. It just means you care.¡± She could only blink in response. There was another one of those nuggets of wisdom. Cameron was a little confusing.

    ¡°Um--why did you want to know? Did he complain about it to you or something?¡± Sensitive douche couldn¡¯t handle a proper insult? But something was off. The stone in Cat¡¯s stomach didn¡¯t budge, and it only seemed to grow heavier as Cam considered what he sad going to say next.

    ¡°Not really. Just something I noticed kind of...and¡­.¡± Cam frowned, truly frowned, for the first time. ¡°It¡¯s not my place to say.¡± Well, if he didn¡¯t want to pique her interest, he shouldn¡¯t have said anything at all. Cat stared at him, struggling to find motivation. Did he have an ulterior motive? Was he trying to get her to pry in exchange for something, or did he really just want to know?

    As he sat there, in her bed, hardly covered by her sheets and facing her in the most vulnerable way, Cat made up her mind. Maybe it was a little weird--to the outsider--why she targeted Peter the way she did. Cameron just wanted to know. And, well, considering he was sort of in the middle of their fighting all of a sudden, it made sense.

    ¡°If you want me to be nice to Peter, you¡¯re starting at the wrong end of the conflict,¡± Cat said.

    ¡°No--no, I¡¯m not asking that. I¡¯m not asking anything.¡± While she watched him, utterly confused, he seemed to be thinking terribly hard about whatever it was he wasn¡¯t asking of her.

    ¡°So it bugs him a lot more when I mention money,¡± she started slowly. Then, pieces of a puzzle started to come together. ¡°People that don¡¯t like money don¡¯t have it.¡± It only muddled her idea of him, though. That was a lot of effort he put into not looking like a regular guy. ¡°So he¡¯s broke, too. Why is he so sensitive about it? I¡¯ve never had more than triple digits in my savings account for longer than a month and you don¡¯t see me going around, being a dick to people who point it out.¡± Cam started to say something, but seemed to think better of it. A small feeling in the back of her head nudged her, told her to file this moment to reflect upon later.

    Cam finally settled on a response. ¡°Right, but--hear me out--it¡¯s not a¡­. Like, it¡¯s not a super sore spot for you.¡± Before Cat could fully feel the intrigue creep into her mind, he continued, ¡°You don¡¯t really hate him, right? Like you don¡¯t want to hurt anyone on purpose?¡±

    ¡°I mean¡­. I punched him, right?¡± It was an attempt to lighten the mood. Something in this question made things so dark, so much less fun than just a few minutes ago. As curious as she was, the way Cam approached this gave her an awful feeling. He laughed at her joke; in fact, it seemed to cure him of whatever dark thoughts Peter put in his head in the first place, and he even sat up a little.

    "Right,¡± he started, fully amused. God, if she punched Peter that badly, she wished she could remember it. Cam chuckled again. ¡°Right, of course. Well--I mean, you intend to annoy him or make him mad or whatever. I¡¯m just saying I don¡¯t think those particular lines will bug him, just hurt him.¡± Catherine stared at him for a moment, before finally shrugging and letting her eyes fall to her lap. It was weird to think she had the power to hurt someone. Even someone like Peter, whose steel walls were so high up he had to look down at others.

    ¡°Yeah, well, there are plenty of other things to insult him about. The guy over-manscapes like those conceited Instagram guys that film themselves shaving.¡± Cam started to run his fingers up and down her thigh; somehow, it was comforting, though the dark curiosity still lingered in her stomach like leftover anxiety.

    ¡°He didn¡¯t ask me to talk to you, by the way.¡±

    ¡°He just felt like complaining about money to you?¡± She rolled her eyes, but Cameron shook his head.

    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°I may have eavesdropped on a phone call. Sounded legal and stuff.¡± Legal? Cat raised a brow.

    ¡°It¡¯s not money, I don¡¯t think. I think it¡¯s what comes with it. But--¡± He seemed to be folding in on himself. ¡°I didn¡¯t say anything. It¡¯s not my place.¡± Well¡­. If it was important enough to Cam to bring it up, maybe she did cross some small line she had no idea about. And it wasn¡¯t a big deal to just switch how she taunted Peter. And even then, they were going to avoid each other as much as humanly possible. So it should be easy.

    Ohhh, but now she was so curious¡­.

    <hr>

    Even though she had to read two chapters for Human Sexuality and answer a few review questions for homework, she let Cameron convince her to put it off until tomorrow. But when Sunday rolled around, not long after she got back from work, did Cameron show up again and convince her to put off homework until later in favor of more exciting activities. But by then, around dinnertime, Hannah returned from house-sitting, and between catching up with her and being exhausted from work and entertaining Cam all afternoon, Cat found herself far too exhausted to do anything other than go to bed early.

    She knew she would regret it. Not that hanging out with Cam wasn¡¯t fun--it was great, but she shouldn¡¯t have left her homework until Monday morning. She woke up two hours earlier to try and get it done, but she couldn¡¯t even get out of bed. She snoozed so much, she nearly slept through the alarm she set to remind her to leave for work.

    Catherine did end up making it to work on time...though she never did her Human Sexuality homework, and now she spent the whole morning worrying so much she hardly noticed that the next customer to take care of was Peter.

    He stood there, wearing similar clothes she last saw him in: slacks, button-up. Dressed for work. What sort of work could possibly be good enough for him? What sort of job could allow him to afford designer jeans, several pairs of fancy slacks, and the newest phone?

    When he stepped up to the register, he didn¡¯t say anything, and she didn¡¯t greet him. She couldn¡¯t even look him in the eyes. Instead, she grabbed a cup and wrote for a plain, black coffee, and handed it off to Jeffrey without looking up.

    And, in a weirdly smooth way, Peter tossed exact cash onto the counter and disappeared into the morning crowd to wait for his name to be called. Cat didn¡¯t even realize she¡¯d been holding her breath until Jeffrey nudged her in the ribs.

    ¡°That was somehow more hostile than any of your other interactions. What happened?¡± His question irritated her more than she wanted to admit. Scowling, she nudged him back into his post.

    ¡°Nothing.¡± She was in no mood for his weird comments. And, since the day had been going so well already, it nearly didn¡¯t surprise Cat when she returned to her dorm room, that she couldn¡¯t find her Interpersonal Communications textbook. She didn¡¯t have time for this. It wasn¡¯t under her bed, in her bag, which she swore it was--until she found the apology letter she wrote haphazardly shoved in between some folders.

    The library. She left it by the computer on Saturday in the library when she was with Cam. She was so distracted by him, she never went back for it, or even logged out of the computer. Good lord, it was a rental!

    With her heart in her throat, Cat sprung into action. First, she double-checked the attendance policy for Human Sexuality, and after she was reassured that she was allotted two absences before it affected her grade, she ran to the library to begin her search.

    The book was not where she had left it. Not that she should have been surprised. And she shouldn¡¯t have been surprised when the Lost and Found didn¡¯t have it. She thought, maybe, there might have been a chance that someone turned it into the bookstore when they saw that it was a rental from the sticker on the spine...but when she went there, the underpaid cashier shook her head.

    ¡°Sorry, no. You¡¯re going to have to pay for it, though.¡±

    "Pay for it?¡± she echoed. Pay for a book she didn¡¯t have!

    ¡°Since you aren¡¯t returning the rental, you have to pay the difference. It¡¯s a loss to the store.¡±

    ¡°Not until the end of the semester,¡± Cat said defensively. The cashier shrugged.

    ¡°No, but I thought I should warn you.¡± She didn¡¯t look like she had the ability to care enough to warn someone of an impending cost.

    ¡°I need that book now, though.¡± Cat glanced behind her to the growing line of students buying scantrons and gum, then huffed. ¡°Do you have others?¡±

    ¡°Uh--I can¡¯t--I can¡¯t rent you out the same book again. Limit one per person.¡± Of course. Why would it be so easy? It was bad enough she had to spend $300 on a book she didn¡¯t have to cover the rental, and then spend even more to just get access to it.

    The bookstore suddenly got very warm. How much was one lapse in judgement going to cost her? ¡°Can I buy a used one?¡±

    The cashier wasn¡¯t helpful. ¡°Not of the same book. You have to return the rental first.¡±

    ¡°Are you kidding me?¡±

    ¡°Sorry¡­.¡±

    ¡°So I have to buy out the book, then can I rent one?¡±

    The cashier shrugged, then clicked around on her computer. ¡°Let me look to see if we have any, first.¡± Then, after a minute of loading, she shook her head. ¡°Um...no, we¡¯re out.¡±

    Cat gasped. ¡°You¡¯re completely out?¡±

    ¡°Not out-out, just out of rentals.¡± Well there went the cheapest option.

    ¡°Used ones?¡± she asked quietly.

    ¡°None of those. Just new ones. We¡¯d have to order it.¡± This was a nightmare. The voices of the impatient patrons behind her seemed to get louder. The realization that she hadn¡¯t had any lunch started to hit her, twisting her stomach in knots.

    ¡°How much is it to buy out the lost book?¡± How much did she have in her bank account? Her parents managed to give her a couple hundred for the move, and she had her last paycheck, and the upcoming paycheck--if she didn¡¯t use any of it for food¡­.

    ¡°Um, total, it¡¯s two-hundred and fifty-three dollars, sixteen cents.¡± What! How did anyone afford this? The cashier seemed sympathetic.

    ¡°I know. Just don¡¯t major in STEM, and your books won¡¯t be that bad.¡± Cat blinked at her.

    ¡°This is why there¡¯s such a disproportionate amount of people of--¡±

    ¡°Hi, Preacher, I¡¯m choir,¡± the cashier interrupted before she could even get started. ¡°Sorry. I hear that all the time. Look, I can¡¯t change the prices. I¡¯m sorry. You¡¯re going to have to pay that amount unless you find the book. But, hey, check online for some used copies, see if you can find any better prices than what we¡¯ve got here. There are some places that might even rent to you even though the semester started already.¡±

    Cat shook her head, but took out her debit card and, with shaking hands, passed it off to the cashier, who simultaneously wiped her debt and her account with one swipe. She hoped she had enough money in her account.

    ¡°Please go through,¡± Cat whispered to herself. The cashier handed her card back with a receipt, and although she should have felt at least a little relieved, she left the store feeling even worse than when she went in.

    <hr>

    With a half hour before her Communications class was set to begin, Cat knocked on Professor Harlem¡¯s office door, desperately hoping the woman was in there. But then she noticed light peeking in from the bottom of the door, and then a man¡¯s voice. A stupid, familiar, snobby voice.

    ¡°Come in,¡± the professor called. Cat was about to turn around and walk away, pretend like she was never here, but the professor was already opening the door to welcome her inside. ¡°Ah. Come on in, Miss Ramos.¡±

    She stood there, feeling smaller than ever, undoubtedly looking just as guilty, but managed to inch her way inside the closet-sized office. There wasn¡¯t even a window.

    Peter stood off to the side between a fake fern and an overstuffed bookshelf, seemingly unsurprised, though his clothes a little more wrinkled than the start of the morning.

    Before she could forget her manners, Cat stepped into the office and shut the door behind her. As she twisted the knob, she gathered her strength with a deep breath.

    ¡°Professor, I just wanted to give this to you.¡± She turned around with the letter in hand, and waited for the professor to accept it and return to her computer. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to interrupt. I can see you after--¡±

    ¡°Is this a withdrawal notice?¡± Professor Harlem asked without unfolding the paper. Cat¡¯s eyes bulged.

    ¡°No! No, it¡¯s an apology...f-for my behavior on Friday.¡± For some reason, the professor found this amusing, and unfolded it to give it a once-over.

    ¡°Alright. In that case, please stay a minute.¡± Professor Harlem dropped the unfolded paper by her keyboard, where another out-of-place paper sat. Cat squinted, and could barely make out Peter¡¯s name at the bottom. Really, an apology letter from him, too? Did Cameron have something to do with this?

    ¡°Both of you, please sit.¡± Before she could get mad, Catherine obeyed the instructor and sat in the armchair beside Peter. The energy he gave off confirmed that he was maybe thinking the same thing. Cameron in his middle-man position gave them both the same, exact advice. No wonder.

    The professor took a deep breath, then laced her fingers together and leaned on her desk.

    ¡°So you both want to make up for that shitshow, huh?¡± She looked between the two, who only nodded. ¡°Then first I need you to understand that if this was done in a work environment, a second chance would not be given. I trust you both work? What do you do?¡± She first addressed Cat, who squirmed in her chair.

    ¡°Barista,¡± she managed to squeak out. Then came Peter¡¯s answer, ¡°Cell phone sales and repair.¡± Oh. That answered the question about how he got the fancy phone.

    ¡°So you know that that sort of thing is unacceptable.¡± Peter and Cat nodded in sync. ¡°But this is a class, and I would be lying if I didn¡¯t admit that this happened every year. So I¡¯m going to let you make this up. You¡¯ll re-do your debate at the end of the semester.¡± Cat¡¯s hand jumped to her throat, as if to actually hold her breath there. ¡°But I will be grading it as a normal debate. Everything is going to matter, not just the etiquette. I¡¯ll be giving you a new topic after the debates for the class are over. Understood?¡±

    Cat had never nodded so fast before.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Peter beat her to saying. She echoed it, hopefully not too eagerly, before the professor smiled and dismissed them.

    At least one thing went right tonight.

 Chapter 7

    $7.55. Seven dollars and fifty-five cents was left in her account. Friday was payday, which meant she would get an additional $88.

    She had been living on around ten bucks a day since she got here, eating granola bars for breakfast, salads for lunch, chicken rice bowls of sorts for dinner. It had been fine. Now she not only had to find a way to stretch seven dollars for five days, but to find a way to buy a book and cover shipping.

    Cat rested her head in her hands to try and get herself to breathe. Class ended about half an hour ago and her stomach roared at her, but she popped off to the library to check her account balance online to see what she could afford to eat.

    The answer was she couldn¡¯t. Not really. Maybe if she went to the convenience store tomorrow when it opened, she could just buy a bunch of cheap things. Cup of Noodles or whatever. That would get her through the week. And maybe there was a used book that would be even cheaper than her paycheck.

    But, as she searched on Amazon, biting her lips together and bouncing her leg up and down, the results jerked her stomach to and fro. There were some textbooks for $80...with ten dollar shipping. Why did shipping a book cost so much?

    Now she sat there, exhausted and hungry at the computer, staring at this ridiculously expensive book that she couldn¡¯t currently afford, but that she had to nearly starve herself to be able to by the end of the week, so long as it was still available.

    As if to rub salt in the wound, her phone vibrated with a text from her mother that read, ¡°How was your weekend, honey?¡± She wasn¡¯t in the mood to lie to her mom.

    <hr>

    It wasn¡¯t as if this was a new experience to Cat. There were several times at home where her Dad would come home with bad news, and then the next month or so consisted of every flavor of Top Ramen known to man until he finally announced that he found a new job. She nearly forgot those dreaded middle school days where Shawna Marshall mocked her for her lunch--which was just a tupperware preparation of stovetop Top Ramen, because it was thirty cents cheaper than the Cup of Noodles version. But the Student Convenience Store at Bay Area University didn¡¯t have the cheaper bagged versions, so now she stood in line bright and early on Tuesday morning, right when the store opened, with five cups in her hand.

    The cashier rung her up too quickly. And when she shakily handed over her debit card, the cashier asked, ¡°Ever tried mixing up the flavors? I think the Shrimp and Chicken flavor packets aren¡¯t so bad together. If you ever get sick of the flavors, that is.¡± Somehow, this one statement washed over her with a comfort like a warm blanket on a rainy day. Cat looked up to the pimply redhead and smiled.

    ¡°I¡¯ll try that.¡± Of course. This was college. Every other person was in the same position she was. And even though she was an expert in the instant ramen flavor packets and their various mixtures, Chad from Super Convenience had improved her mood tenfold, and made the rest of the day that much more bearable--until dinnertime.

    Hannah very enthusiastically invited Catherine out to dinner with the whole group, including ¡°Caaaaam! Mwah-mwah!¡± But instead, Cat sat at her desk chair with her dinosaur-like laptop that hardly ran, and smiled weakly as she said, ¡°I¡¯ve got to study, but thank you. Maybe next time.¡± Maybe she could see Cam afterward. Maybe being exhausted and hungry and satisfied would get this feeling in her chest gone. But she wasn''t going to figure that out while admitting she was literally broke to her brand new friends. Nope.

    Cat waited for about twenty minutes after Hannah left before she dug out her Cup of Noodles and headed downstairs to the common area.

    It was mostly deserted, as she had hoped, during dinnertime. There was just a couple of girls doing some flash cards in the corner, so she had time to take a wet paper towel to the microwave before she dared to use it.

    The commons weren¡¯t filthy. There were a few tables and chairs that weren¡¯t completely stained to a darker color than they were supposed to be, and after a generous wipe-down before use, the microwave didn¡¯t entirely smell like popcorn. She didn¡¯t dare open the communal fridge, though. It wasn¡¯t like a breakroom fridge at work that had a sign claiming everything would be tossed every Sunday night. Things just stayed there, for who knows how long.

    Her hands were shaking by the time she got the cup into the microwave. And, just like the last time she had to survive off of the cheapest food available, she knew that it wouldn¡¯t be enough to satiate her.

    As Cat stood there, her arms crossed in front of the microwave, and watched the timer slowly climb down from three minutes, she tuned out the conversation of the studying girls, and tried very hard not to pay attention when the double doors to outside opened. But she didn¡¯t grow up in a desert, so she wasn¡¯t used to days being hotter than the surface of the sun and nights colder than space. The cold breeze from outside shocked her skin, and despite her efforts, she looked.

    She wasn¡¯t in the mood to be seen tonight. So when the two guys burst through the door with tank tops and gym shorts on, she tried her very best to disappear into herself, shrug her shoulders forward and slouch into nothingness. But she still stared. The first and tallest one to come in was wiping his face on a towel, though she had a sinking feeling she knew who the unfortunately pretty boy was. It was strange to recognize someone from his shoulders, from the little v-muscles his shirt revealed while his arms were up. The guy behind him clapped him on the back.

    ¡°I needed that. Thanks for the run. I¡¯ll catch you later.¡± And just like that, Peter lifted the sweat towel from his face to show off his dimples to his departing friend, and Cat nearly jumped out of her skin to try and make it look like she wasn¡¯t looking at them. She turned away with her heart in her throat, but she was caught.

    ¡°What are you doing here?¡± he asked, panting. She could practically hear his smile disappear. He had that disgusting wet u-neck people got when they exercised on purpose, and the sides of his tank top, under his arms, was stained with sweat. Any normal person would think this would be a horrible time to strike up a conversation. But no, he wasn¡¯t normal. If he was normal, she wouldn¡¯t feel so ashamed for staring at him.

    ¡°I live here,¡± she spat a little harsher than necessary as she eyed the digital numbers on the microwave. Why couldn¡¯t he just leave? Also, did he forget that he was supposed to be avoiding her?

    Instead, Peter approached, inviting himself into her personal space.

    ¡°I meant, why aren¡¯t you at dinner with everyone else?¡± Why did he know about that? They only just left. Cat¡¯s gaze snapped to his in surprise.

    ¡°How do you know¡­?¡± As she asked it, his brows rose.

    ¡°Because they invited me.¡± He shrugged as if it was such a simple answer. He stared at her with such confidence, green and bright and exhausted, but still standing a foot taller than her.

    "Why?¡± Now she was out of breath. And if he was invited, why didn¡¯t he go?

    Peter glared, now, his arms entwining in front of his chest to mirror her. He looked so much stronger, so much more intimidating. While she was trying to disappear, he made it very clear he saw her and wasn¡¯t going to let her get away without answering.

    ¡°Probably because we had fun the last time we went out.¡± When the hell was that? Was it that one time Hannah and Kelsey weren¡¯t around when she and Cam went and grabbed food? They were hanging out with Peter? On purpose? ¡°Why didn¡¯t you go?¡±

    Cat defaulted to looking away, to the microwave, and shook her head. Three, two, one¡­. ¡°None of your damn business.¡± The minute it started beeping, she opened the door and took out her Cup of Noodles, and slammed the microwave door shut again. The cup was hot to the touch, and she nearly burned her fingers before she set it on the counter.

    ¡°None of my--god, you¡¯re so¡­.¡± Cat shot a glare at him as she stole a paper towel and a biodegradable fork from the cupboards, then despite how hot it was, how much it hurt her fingers to carry, she picked up the cup and twirled around to leave.

    But he was on her heels.

    ¡°Stop following me,¡± she snapped when she got to the doorway. Peter let out a dry laugh.

    ¡°I live here,¡± he echoed with just as much sass. What a prick. Rolling her eyes, Cat shoved her shoulder into the push door and start her way down the hallway.

    ¡°Why are you choosing to eat that crap instead?¡± Mr. Judgy asked as she approached the elevator. She jabbed the button with her elbow to call for it, and even in all that stalling, she didn¡¯t find a suitable enough lie.

    ¡°Shut up,¡± was all she was able to say. She didn¡¯t want to eat it. It was just all that she could at the moment. It had the most carbs, the most calories out of everything the convenience store had. Unfortunately for them, the elevator was empty, and they were stuck with each other¡¯s company for another minute as the stupidly slow contraption crawled its way up. If she wasn¡¯t concerned about conserving her strength for having to run a mile later in the week, she would¡¯ve taken the stairs.

    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    Cat leaned against the mirrored wall of the elevator, switching her Cup in her hands. Sure, it hurt to hold, but her pride was worth a lot more than a couple blisters. As she stared at one of the corners of the mirrored box, she could see Peter¡¯s reflection without giving away the fact that she was staring at him at all. His arms weren¡¯t crossed anymore, just resting in the pockets of his gym shorts. It was the first time she could see him really concentrate on something, his phone nowhere near enough to distract him.

    Sweaty, focusing on the floor, lips tightened into a line. He looked just like a regular guy with his hair matted to his head, with too much to worry about and not enough time in the world. Maybe if he ever went mute, or just forgot how to speak, she could understand why her friends would want to be around him. But he had more muscles than personality and reserved his smile and his dimples for reasons she wasn¡¯t meant to know, it seemed.

    ¡°Is the sodium from that death cup already clogging your arteries?¡± Peter asked with a disgusted look on his face. She blinked and turned to the real life Peter instead of his reflection, but before she could figure out what he was talking about, he leaned forward and pressed the button for the elevator doors to stay open before it could leave. ¡°You look like you¡¯re about to faint.¡± Somehow the elevator made it to her floor in the blink of an eye. And when she stepped forward from the wall, maybe he wasn¡¯t wrong.

    But he didn¡¯t need to know that. Instead, she cleared her throat and stepped out of the elevator. Still, she had one question¡­.

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you go to dinner, if you were invited?¡± She hesitated in the hallway, searching for his answer. He regarded her, his eyes lingering on her ramen, then shrugged and leaned forward to press the ¡°door close¡± button.

    ¡°Moot point now, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    <hr>

    Cat had a plan for avoiding her friends at dinnertime for the rest of the week without them noticing. Wednesday, she distracted Cam from dinner to just heading back to her place, feigning more desire than she actually held. But it worked, and Hannah was understanding and didn¡¯t mind staying out a couple extra hours. Thursday, she hid in the library and claimed she lost track of time when writing an essay.

    Friday morning, Cat sat at a library computer, refreshing the page of her bank account over and over again. She just had to wait for her auto-deposit to process, and she could buy the book, budget out her food¡­.

    Finally. And, in two extra clicks, she went from being only semi-poor, to completely broke again. But things were looking up. The resident advisors were throwing a movie night in the common area tonight, projector and free popcorn and all, and so with the extra four dollars--and skipping today, because she could substitute with popcorn--she had enough to get her through to Thursday, and then she would get her paycheck the next day.

    This micro-planning left her exhausted. Or maybe because she was starving. But either way, mid-day naps didn¡¯t help, neither did going to bed early. She originally planned on skipping out on the latter half of the movie night to go to bed so that she wouldn¡¯t be exhausted at work the next day. But she sat next to Cam on the floor, as the newest superhero movie she didn¡¯t care about blared about with explosions and bad villain puns, so when she said she was going to duck out, he got a mischievous glint in his eye and offered to walk her back to her dorm.

    As usual, he was generous, rubbing and touching and kissing and licking in all the right places, repeatedly asking her what she wanted and then doing it enthusiastically. Physically, she was satisfied. For the briefest moment when he held her and nibbled on her neck, the oddest and ugliest feeling creeped into her stomach. Cameron was completely in the room with her, in the moment, absorbed in the heat and the pleasure, and even though she was very focused on what was going on right there, it was as if she watched the scene from above, disjointed.

    He¡¯d learned her buttons, the right way to get whatever reaction he wanted from her, but she took too long to respond. He built her up in every right way. Every stroke of his fingers, every movement and murmur stoked the fire he expertly lit. Despite her fragmented thoughts, she managed to climb up to the edge, and enjoy the leg-shaking ride he¡¯d orchestrated just for her.

    Again, she was left with less relief than she anticipated. Even though she knew this bubble in her chest was there to stay, now, she¡¯d hoped it would go away. But this anticipation never left. And Cam was no idiot. After everything, he lay next to her, still dragging his fingers over her bare skin, still planting kisses on her neck and shoulder, though hesitant.

    ¡°Something wrong?¡± he finally asked when she wouldn¡¯t. Cat let out a breath, giving the rise in her throat one last chance to leave her. But it didn¡¯t. So instead, she returned one of Cam¡¯s kisses with a smile and just said, ¡°Exhausted, no thanks to you.¡±

    He smiled, but his eyes searched hers for a genuine answer. She wasn¡¯t willing to give it.

    ¡°I do have work in the morning, though¡­.¡± Should she have felt bad, kicking him out? But the movie would be done soon, and Hannah would return--

    ¡°No rest for the wicked,¡± he said through a sigh before he gathered his things to leave. In that moment, while he pulled on his pants and gave an additional cheesy one-liner for his departure, Cat made a decision. It would have to wait until tomorrow, though.

    <hr>

    At this point, she couldn¡¯t tell what affected her more: the nerves or the week-long diet of a Cup of Noodles a day. But this needed to be done, before she stuck her head further into the sand and refused to act like an adult. So now she stood in the slightly-more crowded dorm rooms of the upperclassmen, in front of Cameron¡¯s dorm room, and knocked.

    Honestly, up until this moment, she was so absorbed in her worries about Cam, she genuinely forgot Peter was his roommate, and was utterly confused as to why he opened the door.

    ¡°Um...Cam?¡± was all she could remember to say when he furrowed his brows at her. Then, it seemed like Peter suddenly remembered Cam lived there, and just shoved the door open more to reveal his roommate laying on his bed--or rather--in bed, waving.

    ¡°Hey, Cat!¡± He punctuated his greeting with a yawn. ¡°Sorry, were we supposed to meet? I overslept.¡± She stared at him under Peter¡¯s arm, wide-eyed.

    ¡°It¡¯s four PM, Cameron.¡± Even if he could sleep through the rukkus of the hallway, how could he sleep that late?

    ¡°So--we did have plans?¡± Cameron started to stir, to sit up in bed, and Peter abandoned the door to return to his desk, and placed headphones over his ears. He sat with a laptop open to some sort of research page, with a music player showing waveforms in the corner of his screen. Cat sighed.

    ¡°No, I just--wanted to talk with you.¡± Another group of people passed by, shouting despite walking right next to each other. Cat flinched, then regarded Cam. ¡°Maybe somewhere quieter?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, sure, come on in.¡± Cameron crawled out of his bed completely to smooth out the comforter, wearing boxer shorts and the undershirt he had on yesterday. Cat¡¯s eyes flickered to Peter. He seemed laser-focused on something, and was clicking away at his screen.

    ¡°Maybe somewhere more private,¡± Cat suggested without looking away from Peter¡¯s screen.

    ¡°He¡¯s got headphones on, it¡¯s cool. Come sit.¡± Well...the hallway wasn¡¯t going to be any better. So with a sigh, Cat relinquished her reservations and started toward Cam¡¯s bed to plop onto it.

    She¡¯d never actually been inside before. She didn¡¯t think Cam would be the neat one, between him and Stick-Up-His-Ass Magoo, but his desk was neatly laid out, his books on the shelf above his bed, and all of his clothes in the hamper. Peter¡¯s bed was covered in papers and books, an open backpack, and his desk was a catastrophe. What sort of backwards universe¡­.

    ¡°So,¡± Cam started to steal her attention. She was still exploring the visuals of the room, the abundance of posters and pictures on Cam¡¯s side, neat and straight, and the collage of smaller photos and stickers on a sort of picture board hanging over Peter¡¯s desk. She couldn¡¯t make out anything distinct. But what she did notice was the little pop-up of a speaker with a slash through it on Peter¡¯s computer. Nosy bastard just muted his music to eavesdrop. Just as she was about to say something, Cam jumped up to sit on his bed beside her and asked, ¡°are you here to tell me I have an STI?¡± Any lectures she started to prepare for Peter flew out of her brain as she stared at Cam.

    ¡°What? No, I--do you have an STI?¡± Oh, god. She should have known. Condoms didn¡¯t always block everything--and they weren¡¯t as effective as combined measures--

    ¡°Not that I know of, that¡¯s why I¡¯m asking you. Do you?¡± Cam said as he shook his head. Cat stared at him incredulously.

    ¡°I--then why--did you just assume I came here to tell you that you have an STI?¡± That was alarming. Okay, next paycheck, she was going to the Health Center and getting tested. Jesus Christ, what had she been doing?

    ¡°It¡¯s either that or you came here to, like, ¡®break up¡¯ with me, which would be weird, because we¡¯re not dating, because you know that I don¡¯t do that sort of thing¡­.¡± If he thought that would grant him a different expression, he was wrong, and Cat shook her head.

    ¡°What the hell, Cam?¡± was all she could say. He shrugged at her. Over Cam¡¯s shoulder, she could see Peter resting his chin on his open palm, likely covering whatever sort of laughter he was undoubtedly struggling to hold back. Cat sighed. ¡°I was just--not breaking up, or whatever, but just saying I¡¯m going to focus more on other things.¡± She had the perfect phrase picked out when she got here, but being blindsided by Cam¡¯s candor, his accurate prediction. What were words, again? ¡°I was using you as an excuse to not do what I need to, and to try and¡­.¡± She couldn¡¯t find anything to say, so she just mirrored him, and shrugged.

    Cam listened respectfully, nodding. ¡°I get it. I mean, college is new for you. You¡¯re dealing with a lot, and I can be a pretty great escape.¡± She nodded, but he deserved the whole truth. And he was being a hell of a lot more receptive than any other guy she¡¯d been with, so maybe this would grant full closure.

    ¡°I guess I¡¯ve been looking for something that I thought¡­.¡± Cat picked at her nails, watching them carefully in her lap. ¡°I have this--this feeling or something--that I felt¡­. I don¡¯t know how to explain it. I just--there¡¯s something I felt that I thought I could get back, and I thought I could do that by using...well, you. But I can¡¯t, so now I feel kind of guilty, so¡­.¡± She shrugged again to acknowledge the nagging guilt that played at the edge of her stomach.

    ¡°Well¡­,¡± Cam sounded through a sigh, ¡°thanks for not using me on purpose. Though if you wanted to keep using me with full disclosure¡­.¡± Cat laughed, then shook her head. ¡°That tracks. Alright, no big.¡±

    ¡°Thanks for being cool about it,¡± she said, eyeing Peter¡¯s computer.

    ¡°Yanno.¡± When Cam yawned, Cat stifled her own, and slid off his bed to leave.

    ¡°I¡¯ll see you later, then?¡±

    ¡°Sounds good.¡±

    Peter¡¯s hand was on his mouse, clicking from one tab to another, still pretending to listen to music. But when she passed by him, she hesitated, debating, and then paused to wait for him to turn around and look at her.

    Then, in the most condescending voice possible, she said, ¡°You can hear the music when your speakers are actually on.¡± She reached over his shoulder to press the button on his keyboard to turn on the volume; he jumped at the sudden noise and swiped his headset off, proving his guilt with more than just a frown.

    Satisfied, she granted a wave to a laughing Cameron, and let herself out.

 Chapter 8

    The headaches began on Monday. She¡¯d overslept, was an hour late to work. Nothing made the pain go away. Not extra water, not pain meds, not even the Cup of Ramen she had before her Human Sexuality class. In fact, during class, she was fairly certain she became nauseous because of the noodles. Go figure.

    The headache extended to Tuesday, to Wednesday. The only thing that got her out of bed at a reasonable hour was a text from the shipping department of her building stating she had a package. With barely ten minutes to spare before class started, Cat managed to finish answering the review questions required for Communications, and grant herself at least a little relief. Mentally, at least.

    Thursday was rough. Despite her headache temporarily waning off, her anxiety was through the roof. English and Statistics were generalized torture. The afternoon sun beat so hot, part of her contemplated just skipping going to her PE class¡­.

    ¡°One more day,¡± she sighed to herself in the mirror. She looked as exhausted as she felt, with her skin duller than normal, her hair messy and more unruly than usual. She¡¯d managed to tie it into a bun to get out of her face, and eventually, she found herself walking to the enormous gym to check in for class.

    Just like she had for every other week, Cat signed out a wristband that recorded her heart rate, wrote down the serial code by her name, and strapped it on. Just one more day.

    It must have been over a hundred degrees out. Even though the thermometer outside the gym doors said it was only eighty, there just wasn¡¯t a way. She sweat too much, and she wasn¡¯t generally a heavy sweater, and despite already having two full water bottles before her run, she had to stop every minute or so to catch her breath or risk getting too dizzy.

    The track she sort-of ran wrapped around a football field of sorts, which meant she had to run approximately four to five laps every week to equate to a mile. The electric heart monitor she wore tracked steps as well, so she never really kept track. But today...this was like pulling teeth.

    Her usual mile was clocked in around nine minutes if she allowed herself a break halfway through. But this time, it took her over twice the amount of time just to feel secure that she wouldn¡¯t faint. And she wasn¡¯t about to do that while there were several teams playing various intramural sports on the football field.

    One of the girls that she often saw at this time every week passed by her. ¡°You okay?¡± she asked. She was built like a brick building, rippling muscles exposed with her runner¡¯s shorts and a sports bra. Cat usually didn¡¯t try to draw attention to herself, mostly to prevent any sort of embarrassment. But today she wasn¡¯t so good at hiding. Granted, when she took a break, she normally found the pond and sat on one of the rocks in the shade. Today she didn¡¯t make it that far, and just sat on the curb of the track.

    ¡°Rough day,¡± was Cat¡¯s breathy reply. She gave a weak smile, and the girl frowned, still running in place.

    ¡°Don¡¯t push yourself too hard. Burnout causes more injuries than anything else.¡± It would be sound advice for someone that was actually an athlete. Cat shot her a thumb¡¯s up to indicate she heard, and the girl took this as a cue to leave.

    One more day.

    Cat told herself she would make up her abysmal mile time by studying extra hard for Communications. The professor still hadn¡¯t assigned a topic for the debate yet, but that didn¡¯t mean she couldn¡¯t prepare.

    So after she turned in her heart rate monitor with her recorded checkout time, she went straight back to the pond with her book bag. She would reward herself with a shower after she re-read the first two chapters of the book.

    Cat settled onto the patch of grass that surrounded the little, three-foot deep pond. Her back against the giant boulder she usually sat on, her bag beside her, Cat let the quacking of ducks and croaking of the frogs keep her company. It wasn¡¯t so bad in the shade. Still hotter than Hades, but bearable beside the water.

    Concentration eluded her, though. Every other sentence, she caught herself staring into the murky pond, or staring at the people that played on the fields. The pools were just across the way, one designed for laps with those weird buoys as road markers, and the other, bigger pool was more crowded than she¡¯d ever seen it before. There was some sort of water polo game wrapping up and bleachers filled with cheering spectators. Must have been quite a game, based on the crowd. She sat there with the book in her lap, full of envy. She should have taken swimming instead of this stupid running thing. Maybe next semester.

    Studying! Right. Though the pond looked so peaceful.

    When she got back on track, though, her bag rang. Cat marked her place, as pointless as it was, and pulled out her phone. Hannah.

    ¡°What¡¯s for dinner?¡± her roommate asked cheerfully. ¡°We could meet there when I¡¯m done.¡± She must have been walking to her next class. Cat pursed her lips. What lie would work this time? She sighed to herself and rose to her feet, careful, using the boulder to steady herself. The heat plus starvation wasn¡¯t a great mix, but she had to walk around whenever she was on the phone. She wasn''t very good at being idle.

    ¡°Oh, I had a really big lunch after Stats, I don¡¯t know if I¡¯ll be hungry,¡± she settled with. Hannah hesitated on the other line.

    ¡°Are you mad at me?¡±

    ¡°What? No, why would you say that?¡± Cat pulled at the hair tie on the back of her head to loosen her bun, more for something to do with her spare hand than anything. She knew why Hannah thought she was mad.

    ¡°It seems like you¡¯re avoiding me. Did I annoy you or something? You can tell me. I won¡¯t get upset.¡± Cat¡¯s protests went ignored. ¡°I mean, you even sorta-dumped Cam! Are we all annoying you? Are we too much?¡±

    ¡°Hannah--,¡± Cat interrupted before she could get going. ¡°No, really. I¡¯m just trying to find a balance, is all.¡± Not a total lie. ¡°I saw my grades dropping, and I can¡¯t let that happen if I want to keep my scholarship.¡± It was really only half the reason. But it absolutely had nothing to do with Hannah, Cam or Kelsey being too much or anything of the sort.

    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    ¡°Oh. Are you sure?¡± She sounded unconvinced.

    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m sure. I promise. Maybe this weekend we can have a girls¡¯ day? Nail polish and rom-coms on your computer?¡± And food. Lots of snacks.

    Hannah exploded through the phone, to the point that Cat had to hold her phone away from her ear. ¡°Absolutely! Yes! I need that. My god, the stuff I have to catch you up on.¡±

    ¡°Okay, then good. Saturday night, you, Kelsey, me, and Colin Firth.¡±

    ¡°The guy from Daredevil?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s Colin Ferrel. Colin Firth is William Darcy.¡±

    ¡°Omigosh, that¡¯s right.¡± And so, after a few more minutes of working out Saturday¡¯s plans and mindlessly braiding her hair with the help of the pond¡¯s reflection, Cat seemed to help put her roommate into better spirits. They hung up shortly after figuring out which Colin was the one in Kingsman even though neither of them had seen it, and Cat stood at the edge of the pond, staring at the turtle on the rock just a little ways away from her. It was a little baby turtle, climbing out of the water to rest in the tiny patch of sun the canopy of the trees let through. Maybe she should have leaned on Hannah more with this whole issue of balance, money, food.... She wasn¡¯t a snob, didn¡¯t judge people like Cat was so afraid of¡­.

    ¡°What are you doing outside?¡± For crying out loud. Really? At the sound of Peter¡¯s voice, Cat felt herself tense up. ¡°I thought vampires were allergic to sunlight?¡± Cat clutched her phone in her hand tightly, and twisted around to face him.

    Well, she certainly twisted. Her foot slipped on the moss of the pond. The ¡°oh shit¡± drop of her stomach happened before she even felt herself falling backward, into the pond. For a moment, she watched Peter¡¯s dimples disappear from the mocking grin to more of an expression that matched the feeling in her stomach. But after that, she couldn¡¯t see.

    She heard the splashing of her body falling into the water. The shouting. Someone swore, Peter called out to her. And then she heard a crack. More splashing. Her eyes were open, but she could only see darkness. For whatever reason, her mind jumped to, ¡°Did I hurt the turtle?¡±

    Everything faded into some sort of foggy, vague feeling. She was aware of every movement, but powerless to do anything but observe. Water in her mouth. Gross, muddy pond water. She wanted to spit it out, but the earthy flavor only intensified and entwined with some sort of rusty aftertaste. She was aware she hit her head on that rock, and somewhere in the fog, she could see bits and pieces of the world come into view.

    Water. She needed to get out of the water. But by the time the thought came into her mind and her arms started to move, something was heavy, wrapped around her. The water was gone from her tongue; she still breathed the hot and heavy air. She couldn¡¯t make out what was going on with all the shouting, but her vision started to return, blurry and splotchy, but there.

    ¡°Did I hurt the turtle?¡± she managed to ask. She could imagine the rock she¡¯d just been staring at, the little turtle wondering why the mean human would try to crush it when all it wanted was some warmth. The scent of chlorine attacked her nose; there was harsh pressure at the back of her head; everything else was gentle compared to whatever pushed against her.

    ¡°...you hear me?¡± came a distant voice. Cat blinked at the blurred shape overhead. It was like her eyes couldn¡¯t figure out whether to focus or not. Something dripped on her face, cold. Different from the water she¡¯d just fallen into. One blink, everything was fuzzed together. Another, everything was too bright. Then, she could suddenly make out Peter¡¯s big head hovering over her, and a couple faces somewhere in the edges of her vision. His hair was wet, dripping on her face before he brushed it back. His hand held her head up; she was aware of it, based on the strain in her neck, but she couldn¡¯t feel the contact of his hand in her hair. Somewhere in the edge of her consciousness, she could hear alarms blaring, but the rest of her wouldn¡¯t respond.

    ¡°Did I hurt the turtle?¡± she repeated. Someone had to know. If there were three of them, staring at her, making her head pulsate with her heartbeat, one of them had to see where the turtle went.

    ¡°No one cares about the stupid turtle--answer the questions. What is your name?¡± Peter was being really rude.

    ¡°Fuck you, Peter; I care about the turtle.¡± Her words were so much slower than she meant them to be. This, for whatever reason, brought the dimples prominently to punctuate a genuine smile from him. Despite the urge, she couldn¡¯t find the energy to smile back. And at that moment, she knew she hit her head hard. Why else would she want to smile at Peter?

    ¡°You¡¯re going to be alright. We¡¯ve got a golf cart coming up right now so we can take you to the Health Center.¡± Another blink, more focus. Peter hovered over her the closest, dominating her view and blocking the sunshine. His free hand reached over to one of the onlookers to grab their swim towel, staining the white cloth red.

    ¡°You¡¯re bleeding,¡± Cat mumbled. Everything about this all felt so wrong. Maybe it was a dream. But Peter took the towel and put it behind her, pressing even more into her head. She should have felt something, but she didn¡¯t.

    ¡°I-I¡¯m not bleeding, Cat,¡± Peter said shakily. He looked away, and suddenly she became very aware of her breathing, shallow and fast. ¡°There they are! Finally! Come on, can you sit up?¡±

    The most curious onlooker, the one that handed Peter a towel, reached toward her shoulder. He was tanned and had marks around his eyes from goggles that were too tight. When they pulled her up, blinking made her vision flicker.

    After another jolt, Cat groaned. Her head was so heavy, ached and lolled to one side.

    ¡°Almost there,¡± came Peter¡¯s quiet voice. Almost where? When she opened her eyes this time, she was mostly sitting up, between Peter and the guy with faded goggles marks, in the back of a golf cart usually reserved for football players. Everything was so bumpy.

    Her eyes drifted downward. Her workout pants were wet; her shirt had streaks of blood on it--her blood. From the corner of her eye, she could see that in the lap of the Goggles Guy was a towel that was still partially white; the rest was soaked in blood. His jeans and tee seemed mostly unscathed, at least. On the other side of Cat¡¯s vision sat Peter, his white gym shorts and shirt stained with red while he held an additional towel firmly against the back of her head. It was wet, soggy against her neck.

    ¡°Oh my god,¡± Cat murmured to herself. ¡°That¡¯s a lot of blood.¡± Was she going to die like this? Was her cause of death really ¡°turned too fast, fell in a pond and murdered a turtle¡±?

    ¡°Head injuries bleed a lot,¡± Googles Guy said, his voice deep and calm. She stared at him a moment, using the counterweight of Peter¡¯s hand against her head to turn.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± The members of her rescue team laughed nervously, as if she said something funny.

    ¡°Nate. And that¡¯s Martin.¡± The faceless driver gave a wave with his hand, but quickly returned it to the steering wheel of the golf cart. He didn¡¯t have any blood on him. He was tan like Nate, but with long hair tied in a ponytail in the back, wet like Peter¡¯s and Nate¡¯s.

    Another bump in the road left a searing jolt of pain at the base of her neck. She winced, hoping it would go away, but it only intensified. Goodbye, adrenaline¡­.

    How long did she have? Were these her last moments? With the blood and the pain, was this it? No flashback to her childhood, no faces of her lost loved ones?

    ¡°You¡¯re hyperventilating,¡± Peter said. Cat grit her teeth as the air escaped her mouth. The golf cart skidded to a stop beside a curb she¡¯d never seen before, lined with large oak trees that disturbed the pavement with its roots.

    ¡°Come on,¡± Nate sounded. She tried. She tried listening to Peter¡¯s counting, breathing in and out when he told her to; she tried to follow Nate¡¯s warm and gentle nudge to one way of the cart to exit, but by the time they¡¯d managed to coach her into trying to set one leg down on the pavement, a high-pitched screech overcame her, and everything faded to white.

 Chapter 9

    Something about the air was so dry. The scent of hand sanitizer was the first thing she noticed, and it was so strong that she was sure it only made her headache worse.

    ¡°...not usually associated with head injuries like this.¡± Unfamiliar, soft. Feminine and gentle. This voice was comforting, but authoritative. An expert. Cat immediately figured must have been in the Health Center. She lay on something starchy, more like glorified paper towel texture than any bed sheet she expected to be on. Government funding guaranteed shitty quality--nothing like the hospital rooms TV advertised.

    ¡°Is it because of blood loss?¡± Then there was Peter. Masculine and rough, far from comforting: his tone made her stomach lurch. He nearly sounded worried. Was it that bad?

    ¡°No, I know it looks like a lot, but she is fine. We¡¯ll definitely want to do some scans to see if perhaps some internal bleeding is causing pressure in another part of her head, causing the dizziness.¡± Cat grimaced. The voice of who she assumed was a nurse or doctor was nice, but nothing else felt very good. Her head, for one, seemed to try to pulsate itself out of the room. She wanted to speak, to rise, but every blood cell slowed her down, pushing, throbbing. ¡°How long was she out before this last time?¡± The woman turned away to dig into a drawer. Footsteps followed.

    Peter responded, ¡°Seconds, really. Less than a minute. Then, the second time, for maybe a minute, tops.¡± A beat. ¡°Do you have nitrile gloves? She¡¯s allergic to latex.¡± Oh, come on. Really, Cameron? He even told Peter what kind of condoms they used? The immense disgust finally gave her enough energy to move.

    ¡°Gross,¡± Cat mumbled. She didn¡¯t open her eyes, but she knew that the gloves-lady and Peter looked at her. ¡°Did Cam spare any details?¡± Weren¡¯t guys supposed to be more general with their gossiping? Didn¡¯t they care more about whether or not they got laid, not how?

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Peter answered before the doctor could walk over to her.

    ¡°My allergy.¡± As Cat opened her eyes, the doctor immediately took her wrist and stared at the clock on the wall, taking her pulse. ¡°Why would he tell you about that?¡±

    ¡°He didn¡¯t.¡± Now that she saw his face, his brows were knitted together just as tightly as hers. ¡°You did.¡± When and why in the world would she do that?

    ¡°Allergic to anything else?¡± the doctor interrupted. ¡°Hi, I¡¯m Dr. Gupta, filling in for our usual triage specialist.¡± The woman smiled warmly and bent down to get onto Cat¡¯s visual level.

    ¡°Hi. No, that¡¯s it.¡± Dr. Gupta had an immense amount of hair, hardly contained in a low ponytail. How did Indian women always have the most beautiful hair?

    ¡°Can you tell me what day it is?¡± she asked quietly.

    Cat blinked slowly. ¡°Thursday, I think.¡±

    The doctor started to flash a tiny flashlight into her eyes, which Cat flinched away from. ¡°Any vomiting since you hit your head?¡± Her hand flew to the source of her pain, immediately touching something small and metal. Staples. They literally stapled her skull shut.

    ¡°No,¡± she answered, recovering from her surprise.

    Peter was quick to correct her: ¡°Um, yes.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± She didn¡¯t remember that. But now that he mentioned it, her tongue did have a rusty and acidic aftertaste.

    ¡°That answers the memory loss question.¡± The doctor glanced back to Peter, who shook his head.

    ¡°That was unrelated.¡± What was? ¡°She vomited right when we got here. On the curb, outside.¡±

    ¡°Do you know how you hurt your head?¡± the doctor continued, returning to her. Theoretically. She could put two and two together--Peter being there, their clothes cold and wet, bloody and muddy. She last remembered the pond, talking on the phone with Hannah.

    ¡°Um,¡± she started slowly, struggling to find the vague cause. ¡°I...assume my body shut down from being unable to process the pure evil of Peter¡¯s presence?¡± Dr. Gupta and Peter offered her courteous laughter as she looked around the room. It was tiny, hardly enough space for three people with a small computer desk just feet away from the bed she lay on. Peter blocked the closed door, but it was hard to look at him. Her blood completely stained his previously stark-white gym clothes; though his hands were mostly clean, there was still a streak of her blood on his forehead, the tiniest bit of red staining the blonde hair he brushed back. The sight of her own blood began to trigger gentle reminders of what happened after she fell. Mostly of Peter pulling her out of the pond, holding her. Head injuries commonly caused some sort of amnesia around the incident, right? Why did she remember so easily? The idea of Peter literally holding her blood in her skull wasn¡¯t exactly a memory she wanted to cherish forever.

    ¡°Catherine,¡± Dr. Gupta started, stealing her attention. ¡°Do you consent to a blood test and a CT scan?¡± Cat¡¯s eyes met hers, and her heart rate spiked. The doctor may as well have just used her blood as payment.

    ¡°Um--is it necessary?¡±

    ¡°Perhaps not, but your repeated fainting does make me want to check for an underlying cause. It could be the concussion you have, or it could be something else. It¡¯s a good idea to check, just to potentially prevent anything further from happening. If your rescue team wasn¡¯t there--¡±

    ¡°Okay, fine,¡± she interrupted, shutting her eyes. She didn¡¯t want to think about it. Any sort of gratitude to Peter--that was impossible. He was the reason she fell in the first place...maybe. Sort of. Maybe not. It was easier to think of it like that, though. Easier to assume it was just him, rather than the week of hunger she¡¯d endured because she lost a book, because she was so distracted from wanting to sleep with Cameron that she forgot it. God, she was so stupid. How could she let this happen?

    Cat turned her head slightly, wincing as she did, and addressed the doctor. ¡°Is it--um, is it expensive? Do we have to do both?¡±

    Dr. Gupta approached her arm again, this time with some sort of tourniquet set, hesitating.

    ¡°Um, I suppose not. But I¡¯d like to check your blood, at least. It¡¯s just a ten dollar lab fee for blood work, and the CT scan is something like sixty.¡± Cat¡¯s stomach dropped.

    ¡°Just the blood, then,¡± she decided quietly. Why was Peter still there? Wasn¡¯t this some sort of HIPPA violation or something?

    Dr. Gupta grasped Cat¡¯s forearm to draw some blood, and she immediately turned her head away to the wall with a skeletal diagram poster.

    ¡°You okay?¡± Aside from the head trauma, the needle in her arm, and now a sudden worry of how she was going to pay for this? Peachy. Cat let out an unconvincing, ¡°Mmhm.¡±

    ¡°Blood work should take about fifteen or so minutes to process, okay?¡± the doctor continued when she removed the tourniquet. ¡°After they come in, I¡¯ll explain everything to you, we¡¯ll make a treatment plan, and you¡¯ll be free to go.¡± Free to go. Cat let out a breath and slowly turned her arching head to face the doctor again.

    ¡°Do I get to sleep?¡± she asked as Dr. Gupta took away her tools. With a sharp snap, a band-aid replaced where the needle went in, and her doctor gave a courteous chuckle.

    ¡°Yes, that whole coma-thing is an old wife¡¯s tale.¡± Well, at least there was that. She couldn¡¯t eat, but she could sleep, which was awesome, because she was absolutely exhausted. ¡°We just want to monitor you for a while. I¡¯ll go over discharge instructions with you and your friend when I return with the blood results.¡± Friend? What? Just because he brought her in, they were assumed to be friends? Cat¡¯s voice died in her throat, her lips parted like a drowning fish, unable to find any words to reply with.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be right back, alright? Yell if you need anything.¡± But without asking if Cat needed anything now, Dr. Gupta peeled off her gloves and turned away. She squished Peter into the foot of the bed when she tried to exit, and repeated, ¡°be right back.¡±

    The door shut, trapping in the thick and dry air. While the scent of rubbing alcohol dissipated slightly, her heartbeat still maintained a near-panicked pace. The click of the door shutting felt like the start of the World¡¯s Most Awkward Timer. Tick. Tick. Tick. That clock was the devil incarnate.

    Cat kept her eyes glued to the ceiling tile, focusing hard on the water stain just beside the fluorescent light. What in the world was she supposed to do now? Thank him? Throw herself at him and grovel at his feet? They¡¯d already had far more physical contact than she¡¯d planned for her lifetime. He pulled her out of a pond when she wasn¡¯t able to do it herself, seconds before she could even begin to choke. His reflexes must have been lightning-fast for him to pull her above the water before she could even naturally take a breath. He literally held her head in his hands, felt her blood, let it drip all over his clothes and his hands. And now he stood there, listening to instructions from a doctor that assumed he was her friend when they could hardly stand to be in the same vicinity together without throwing out harsh and cruel words.

    This was weird.

    Tick. Tick. Tick. The buzzing of the light only made the clock sound like it was going even slower. What was this, Purgatory? She was baptized! Maybe her parents chose the wrong church and she was in Hell.

    Cat finally let her eyes drop to take a peek at what Peter was doing--just for a second. At least he didn¡¯t seem any more comfortable than she did. He stood with his arms crossed so tightly across his chest, it rivaled the intensity of his frown when he stared at the floor. Where was his phone? Why wasn¡¯t he playing on it, making this easier?

    Maybe she should at least thank him. It wasn¡¯t that she wasn¡¯t grateful--of course she was. She didn¡¯t even want to think about what would happen if he didn¡¯t pull her out of the water. Drowning was supposed to be the most painful way to die, like breathing fire.

    So after a few more torturous clicks of the clock, she finally made a sound to start to say something. Peter¡¯s eyes immediately snapped to her, cautious.

    ¡°Um, so¡­.¡± Unable to handle the weight of his gaze, she returned to staring at the ceiling--at least for as long as he looked at her. ¡°Thanks...for saving my life or whatever.¡± Great execution. She wanted to groan at herself, but refrained. Her breath rose to her throat, but refused to leave when she exhaled. She may as well still be in the pond, accidentally drinking bacteria-infested water instead of breathing.

    Peter took his time to respond, first adjusting himself this way and that. Finally, she could hear him start and stop several times.

    ¡°I--I just did what anyone would,¡± came his quiet reply. No he didn¡¯t. How many people would think to rush up and pull someone out of a pond, or take her to the hospital, let alone that fast? Him, Nate, Martin. What would have happened if they weren¡¯t around? Would anyone notice? Would she still be there, in the water, if¡­?

    But just as quickly as the thoughts came in, she shoved them away. Maybe she wouldn¡¯t have even passed out if Peter didn¡¯t show up. Or maybe she would have. It wasn¡¯t worth freaking out over.

    ¡°Well,¡± she started again, still unable to move her gaze, ¡°thanks anyway.¡± She hadn¡¯t actively stared a ceiling this much since her last pap smear. She shuddered involuntarily. At least those rooms hung motivational posters on the ceiling so there was something nice to look at.

    Tick. Tick. Tick. This was unbearable.

    ¡°Um--,¡± she started again, risking a glance to Peter, ¡°I should probably call Hannah. Then you can¡­you know.¡± He hesitated too long, and waited for her to look back to him.

    ¡°Your phone¡­.¡± Peter glanced behind him, to where it turned out her bag sat slumped against the wall. He bent down to reach toward it, but when he pulled out her phone, he didn¡¯t immediately toss it to her like she expected. Peter approached her with it in his hand, as if it weighed as much as a brick. ¡°It, um. It--it went in the water.¡± Although it looked fine, she knew that wasn¡¯t good news. ¡°If it was one of the newer models, it¡¯d be waterproof, but--¡±

    Cat immediately rose to see it, though she regretted it when she flinched. She took it from his hand, flipped it over and twisted it about in her grasp while one hand held the side of her head, as if to soften the throbbing. Flipping it open, her heart sank when nothing activated. Dark screen. Even when she pressed the ¡°on¡± switch.

    ¡°Don¡¯t--¡± He interrupted, but deflated when she kept pressing the button. ¡°There--ah¡­. There¡¯s a slight chance you can get it to work by putting all the pieces in a bowl of rice...but turning it on...kind of ruins that chance.¡± Ugh. He couldn¡¯t have said that a few seconds sooner? Not that she had rice. She kind of figured that if she did have any, maybe some of this whole disaster could have been avoided.

    ¡°I--¡± She didn¡¯t have anything to say. It wasn¡¯t like this thing was expensive, but it was her only way to contact the outside world. This hunk of metal suddenly felt so heavy in her hand, useless. How would she call her mom, her dad? Tell them about this? What if they texted her? She glanced back up to Peter. He looked genuinely sorry; a wrinkle formed in his brow, his gaze soft at the phone in her hands.

    Cat suddenly became very aware of her fingers, how knobby her knuckles were, how mossy pond dirt stuck under her nails from when she fell. They curled in on themselves automatically, hiding in her palms.

    ¡°Do you--you have her number, right?¡± He said she¡¯d invited him to dinner earlier. Peter frowned and took a half step back.

    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

    ¡°Yeah, but--all my stuff is in my locker. I could--I think I could have Nate and Martin drive the cart back to get it, but.... I--I didn¡¯t think¡­.¡± He was interrupted by the door opening. He jumped, as if guilty of doing something wrong, and took another step away from her.

    Dr. Gupta smiled when she came in, and shut the door with her foot. She rubbed her hands together, applying even more hand sanitizer from the spout on the wall.

    ¡°Alright, how we feeling?¡±

    ¡°Fine,¡± she lied. Cat immediately set her phone (or rather, paperweight) down on the bed beside her.

    ¡°How¡¯s the pain?¡±

    ¡°Fine,¡± she repeated. The doctor smiled again before sinking into a chair by the desk. After a few clicks and some typing, the doctor pulled up some sort of set of numbers and acronyms.

    ¡°So your blood results,¡± she started through a sigh. She regarded them for a moment, then twisted around quickly. Cat¡¯s stomach froze. ¡°Does your family have a history of hypoglycemia? Low blood sugar?¡± Cat shook her head slowly. Dr. Gupta nodded, her lips pursed. ¡°Alright. I see your blood sugar is rather low for this late in the day, measured at 70. We normally see that level associated with fasting blood tests, right in the morning before breakfast. Otherwise, we expect it to be around 100.¡± Oh no. Cat couldn¡¯t help it. Her gaze dropped to her lap, to her fidgeting fingers. The doctor stared at her, already knowing, just from her reaction, what the answer would be to her question. ¡°When¡¯s the last time you ate?¡± The clock was louder than ever, now.

    ¡°Um, three,¡± Cat answered quietly, adding, ¡°yesterday.¡±

    ¡°Yesterday,¡± Dr. Gupta repeated, nodding.

    ¡°I--I forgot breakfast this morning, a-and I was running around so much, I ran out of time for lunch--¡± but the doctor didn¡¯t seem to hear her excuses.

    ¡°Well, no worries,¡± she said. Her voice was warm, matching her smile. ¡°The great news is that your fasting blood work is beautiful. You¡¯re perfectly healthy.¡±

    ¡°Oh, okay.¡± Cat finally looked up, a little surprised.

    ¡°Based on these results, and the nearly guaranteed concussion you¡¯ve got, I¡¯m comfortable saying that your balance, your consciousnesses problems, are most likely related to a low blood sugar and head trauma.¡± So she was okay? ¡°If you have any additional fainting spells after a meal and some rest, I want you to come right back, alright?¡± She nodded. ¡°Now I¡¯m going to print out some discharge instructions.¡± She swirled around back to her computer and started to click around again. ¡°Essentially, you are encouraged, above all, to rest. No sports, especially.¡± Psh. No problem.

    The printer roared to life and began to spit out sheets of paper as the doctor returned to Cat in her swivel chair.

    ¡°So you may experience some excess drowsiness, some dizziness, some memory problems related to today. Okay? If you are nauseous for too much longer, I¡¯d give us a call, and we can work to reduce your symptoms, or see if something else is at play.¡± Dr. Gupta was talking fast, now. The words almost flew over her. ¡°For a while, you¡¯re likely to have headaches, concentration problems, the like. All of this is in this little packet.¡± She grabbed the stack of papers and presented them to her. ¡°This can last a while. If you have any concerns, or feel like something isn¡¯t right, please don¡¯t hesitate to come back. I would like you to check in next week when we remove the staples.¡± The paper was warm in Cat¡¯s hands, but her skin ran cold. Dr. Gupta didn¡¯t slow down, and wheeled back to the computer to click and print a few more things.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got some doctor¡¯s notes for you. I would recommend at least two full days of rest--no strenuous activity, lots of low-key relaxation. Alright?¡± The printer spat out a few more pieces of paper that Dr. Gupta handed to her.

    ¡°Uh--¡± Cat started as she added the papers to her stack. ¡°I--I don¡¯t have to, do I?¡±

    ¡°Hm?¡± The doctor didn¡¯t seem to understand for a moment. ¡°Rest? Um¡­. I really suggest you do. Strain will only make healing take longer¡­.¡±

    ¡°But I¡¯ve got class and work--¡±

    ¡°Teachers and bosses will understand. This isn¡¯t a head cold, so it¡¯s something you should take seriously.¡± But tomorrow she had Communications, and then work the next day so she could even afford to live.

    ¡°Not--not sports or anything,¡± Cat clarified as she glanced to the notes in her hands. ¡°Just--just sitting there, or standing there¡­.¡±

    Peter spoke up from the side of the room: ¡°I can give you notes for tomorrow¡¯s class,¡± but Cat ignored him.

    ¡°It¡¯s ultimately up to you. But the most important thing is that for the weekend, at least, you should always be with someone just in case, even if it¡¯s just in shouting distance. You have a roommate?¡± Cat nodded. ¡°If you could have them or a friend wake you up every few hours, just to be positive you can be roused, and accompany you when you go to the restroom. Just for this weekend.¡± Dr. Gupta waited for her to nod again. ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll have an admin come in to check you out and set up your followup, and then you¡¯re all set. I put in a prescription at the pharmacy for some basic pain meds, but Tylenol and whatnot would also be fine. Just keep on top of it to prevent excessive pain.¡± And, after a few closing remarks, Dr. Gupta shook both her and Peter¡¯s hands and left the room with an additional layer of hand sanitizer sprayed in her palm.

    Peter waited for the door to click shut again before he addressed her. ¡°I can take your doctor¡¯s note to Professor Harlem tomorrow, it¡¯s no big--¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going to class.¡±

    ¡°Did you hear what she said, though? You have to--¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going to class.¡± When she repeated herself, she looked up to Peter, silencing him with a glare. He couldn¡¯t make her stay in. She already hated herself for missing Human Sexuality that one time. But Professor Harlem already had a horrible impression of her, already thought she was some irresponsible child. She had to do everything she could to change that.

    Peter¡¯s frown reminded her of the one her father gave when she told him she got accepted to Bay Area University. Resigned, displeased, with a hint of ¡°you can¡¯t do that!¡± As if either of them had a say in what she did!

    A short girl in slacks opened the door, smiling shyly.

    ¡°Hi, I¡¯m Maria, here to just finish up the admin stuff.¡± She immediately sat down at the computer and typed her login. ¡°I¡¯ll set up your next appointment and then it¡¯s just a few questions before I accept your payment and send you on your way, okay?¡± Payment. Cat¡¯s eyes drifted to her bag on the floor behind Peter, where her wallet was. Her empty wallet. With literally no way to pay for this.

    ¡°How¡¯s Friday morning for you? We have a ten and eleven-thirty open,¡± the girl said. Cat shrugged.

    ¡°Ten¡¯s fine, I guess.¡±

    ¡°Perfect. You¡¯re set to come in for a followup with Dr. Gupta, next Friday at ten. So now I have some questions for you. Normally, we ask these questions when you first come in, but--now is fine. Would you like your friend to exit while we process these questions?¡± There was that word. ¡°Friend.¡± Who would save your life other than a friend? Before Cat could say anything, Maria started to fire away. ¡°Do you smoke?¡±

    ¡°I would--I mean no.¡±

    ¡°Any medications?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Alright, well, these weren¡¯t that invasive.

    ¡°Last day of your last menstrual cycle?¡± Jesus, come on!

    ¡°Current,¡± she replied cryptically. Did she have to tell her what size tampon she shoved up her--

    ¡°Any unprotected sexual intercourse?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± For goodness sake, why didn¡¯t she wait longer before these replies? Why didn¡¯t she give Cat more time to say, ¡°Peter, get the fuck out¡±?

    ¡°Aaand do you feel unsafe or threatened in any current rela--¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Okay, so your total is twenty dollars, even. How would you like to pay?¡± After pressing a final button, Maria spun around, all smiles. Cat stared at her, unable to find any words.

    ¡°Um, right now?¡± she asked stupidly. Maria¡¯s smile faded.

    ¡°Maybe--¡± Peter started, taking a step forward, ¡°I think--maybe I should pay, since it¡¯s kind of my fault¡­.¡± Cat shot a glare at him.

    ¡°You don¡¯t actually believe that,¡± she said, a little harsh. He didn¡¯t challenge her. ¡°Can I have my bag?¡± He chewed on his lip, nearly exposing his perfect, straight teeth as he passed her purse to her.

    After stuffing her discharge papers haphazardly in the middle of her bag, she dug through to her wallet with shaky and uncertain hands to remove her debit card. Maybe the charge wouldn¡¯t go through until tomorrow. As Maria started to punch in the numbers, Cat stared at the computer, willing for a green check mark or smilie face or something to tell her things were okay. But the ¡°submit¡± button prompted an error.

    ¡°Oh. Whoops, sorry. I must have typed something wrong.¡± Cat knew better. Maria closed the window and held the card up to the screen, comparing. From the corner of her eye, she could see Peter watching like a hawk. Nosy. ¡°Hm¡­. I don¡¯t think this card is taking. Do you have another?¡± asked Maria, twisting around. Cat accepted her card back, shaking her head and pursing her lips tightly so no humiliation would slip out.

    Peter gestured toward Maria. ¡°You can just add it to my account, right? I¡¯ve got automatic payment set up--¡±

    ¡°Shut up,¡± Cat hissed at him. Automatic payment--who did that? Rich people and people pretending to be rich.

    Maria recoiled as if she¡¯d been bitten. ¡°Um--or perhaps, um, cash or check, maybe?¡± But Peter now stared at Cat, as if challenging her.

    ¡°No, seriously. It¡¯s just twenty bucks, and I feel responsible. Just add it to my account.¡± He now turned to Maria and spouted out some numbers that made up his student ID, which Cat yelled over.

    ¡°No! You¡¯re not paying for this!¡± Moving her jaw that much really hurt her head.

    Peter scowled. ¡°It¡¯s just twenty bucks, it¡¯s no big deal--¡± Oh if he said that one more time--

    ¡°Just send the bill to my permanent address!¡± Cat finally blurted. That would be one way for her parents to find out if she couldn¡¯t get in contact with them any other way. Maria shrunk into the rolling chair and returned to the computer to click around.

    ¡°Um, I need your student ID--¡± Maria started, but Peter started reciting his own again.

    Cat yelled at him to shut up some more as she pulled her student ID out of her wallet, replacing the space with her debit card. Maria looked like she couldn¡¯t get herself to disappear small enough as she accepted the card with two fingers, as if it was dangerous, and returned to the computer.

    Peter groaned. ¡°God, you¡¯re so difficult for no reason! I¡¯m trying to help!¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t ask for your help, you stuck-up egomaniac!¡± The pressure built behind her eyes, throbbing, pulsating, begging for something to release--but she wouldn¡¯t cry. Not from pain, not from embarrassment, not from frustration--not in front of Peter.

    ¡°How does trying to help make me a stuck-up egomaniac, huh?¡± He stared at her, now, his attempts at shouting his ID to Maria all but forgotten. ¡°Tell me!¡± She didn¡¯t entirely have an idea, she more just shouted the words at him to try and get him to go away, but now there was something to defend. Cat struggled to make herself look taller than she was.

    ¡°You already got your White Knight moment, okay? Leave the rest alone!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s twenty bucks--¡± Maria stood from the computer with Cat¡¯s card. She said something about being ¡°all set,¡± but Cat could hardly hear her over the rage, and snatched her ID out of the poor girl¡¯s hands.

    She slid off the bed too fast, and though she immediately regretted it, she continued to shout. ¡°I get it! It¡¯s twenty bucks and you feel pity because I don¡¯t have it, whatever!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not what--¡±

    Her limbs were tingling, as if on fire. When she shut her eyes, they burned just the same. No. No tears.

    ¡°--free to go!¡± Maria managed to repeat in a high voice. She inched to the door, squishing herself against the desk as if Cat and Peter had some sort of radiation that could poison her if she got too close. As she opened the door to bolt out, Cat grabbed her bag and steeled herself.

    ¡°I¡¯m not some charity case, Peter! I don¡¯t need you trying to shove your way into my business--¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not shoving my way--¡±

    ¡°Then why did you stay here the whole time, huh? Just to offer your financial services as a budding loan shark--?¡±

    ¡°They never said I could leave, and you weren¡¯t even conscious for the first half--¡± Exasperated by his ridiculous excuse, Cat shook her head at him and made her way to the hallway, her bag handles balled up in her fist more like a weapon than a purse.

    ¡°You¡¯re such a--a--¡± But she didn¡¯t have anything to say to him, so she just whirled around for an exit sign to follow, a way out, and started toward the nearest glowing, green light.

    ¡°Be careful, for crying out loud, you just hit your head!¡±

    ¡°Shut up! Stop acting like you care, because we both know that¡¯s not true!¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t--I just--you just got staples put in, and you¡¯re--slow down!¡± She did, but far before he told her to. She¡¯d found the waiting room, found the doorway that led to it, but thankfully grasped the wooden detailing to keep herself up. Just as the world turned to white, it faded back to normal, and her breathing brought the room into focus.

    It wasn¡¯t full, but there were at least half a dozen patients, waiting to be called--including Nate and Martin, who sat in wooden chairs, looking anxious at the sight of her and Peter.

    At the slightest feeling of Peter touching her shoulder, she smacked his hand away and walked through the waiting room, to the large, glass doors that slid open when she stepped up to them. Where was she? She¡¯d never been on this side of campus before, up in the hills with the oak trees and the shade.

    ¡°Ride to your dorm?¡± Martin called as he rushed up to her. When Cat spun around, Nate was right behind him, and Peter eventually caught up with one of the sourest expressions she¡¯d ever seen.

    ¡°I don¡¯t--I don¡¯t know where I am,¡± she confessed, blinking wildly. And if she was honest with herself, she wasn¡¯t up for walking too much further. But she wasn¡¯t going to admit that to Peter, who fumed just a few feet away.

    ¡°Which dorm?¡± he asked, seemingly unaware of any of the hot tension that he stood directly in the middle of.

    ¡°Mine,¡± Peter mumbled. ¡°Casa del Sol.¡±

    ¡°Back where we came from, basically,¡± Martin confirmed with a nod. Cat didn¡¯t say anything, but stepped out of the way for Martin to show her to the golf cart. Nate was quick at her side, and offered an arm for her to take. She took it out of surprise, but let him cautiously and slowly inch her down the steps that led to the Health Center. Martin sat in the front seat of an illegally-parked golf cart, ushering them in. Peter sat in front, but Nate sat in the back with her again, this time keeping hold of her arm. She wasn¡¯t sure if she minded or not.

    The longer they drove, the more Cat recognized her surroundings. The Health Center was somewhere in the hills with the ¡°restorative housing¡± that bragged about its sustainability, which although awesome, was pricey and didn¡¯t involve having AC in the middle of a desert. No thanks.

    They drove down the main road, primarily in silence. They passed a smaller cafeteria Cat never noticed, a few more dorms, some engineering and architect buildings, before driving right past the English building. They were only a minute away, now.

    ¡°Thank you for...this,¡± Cat said when Casa del Sol began to come into view.

    Nate scoffed. ¡°We didn¡¯t do anything. Peter--¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± she interrupted, ¡°but I¡¯m thanking you, now. You and Martin. I appreciate it.¡±

    ¡°Just glad you didn¡¯t die!¡± Martin called from the front seat. He turned around to shoot a quick smile, but when Peter grabbed the wheel of the cart to stop them from swerving, he smartly returned his attention back.

    ¡°Yeah, same,¡± Cat muttered to herself. Martin screeched to a stop by the main doors of the dorm, then turned around to look at her. She gave him a small smile, offered one to Nate, and started to slide out of the cart. Peter was already climbing out by the time she¡¯d steadied herself.

    Nate asked, ¡°Maybe we¡¯ll see you around?¡± Martin waved, and Cat shrugged.

    ¡°Maybe better circumstances.¡± She added a laugh to keep the mood light; Nate rewarded her with a large smile, and stared for a little too long.

    ¡°Hope so.¡± He winked, then started to pull himself toward the front seat to steal Peter¡¯s spot. Cat¡¯s cheeks burned at the attention, and she shrugged.

    ¡°Me too,¡± she decided to say, uncertain if she really meant it. He was nice, and he was cute. Why not? Nate finished climbing into the front seat, but turned to her before Martin could finish turning the cart back on.

    ¡°Careful--any redder and you¡¯ll make the sunset jealous.¡± O-kay.

    ¡°Ugh,¡± was Peter¡¯s reaction.

    As Martin pressed the pedal to drive away, Cat could hear him say, ¡°That was lame, man.¡±

    Cat shook her head, but smiled, despite herself. It was funny, if a bit over-the-top.

    ¡°Him, really?¡± Why was Peter still here? Was he seriously judging her right now?

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s a creep.¡± Before she could get an accurate read on Peter¡¯s face, he had already turned around and opened the door to the dorm. She was close behind, but more out of curiosity than anything else.

    ¡°What, you allergic to kindness?¡± He didn¡¯t respond to her, and instead stepped out of the way to let her pass. ¡°He¡¯s your friend.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s not my friend,¡± he quickly corrected. Cat hesitated when she noticed Peter stopped walking.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± she asked.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re just standing there.¡±

    He blinked at her. ¡°So are you.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you have something better to do?¡± He didn¡¯t seem to understand her. ¡°Steal candy from babies, tell old ladies their knitting sucks?¡± She didn¡¯t wait for his answer, just headed toward the biggest, least-stained green armchair she could see in the room.

    ¡°Not until Hannah gets here, at least,¡± he answered with annoyance, hovering in her vicinity.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Why was he also waiting for her roommate? Why didn¡¯t he just go get his phone from his locker? The concussion and the headache must have made her slow. He looked at her like she was stupid, but she couldn¡¯t figure out what prompted any of this to start.

    ¡°I mean you have to be monitored for the weekend, and I¡¯m not about to be responsible if you go into a coma because I didn¡¯t properly hand you off to Hannah before I go and take a shower to wash your blood off me.¡± Oh, for crying out--

    ¡°Haven¡¯t you been around me enough today?¡± she groaned, placing her head in her hand. ¡°You can go, it¡¯s fine.¡±

    ¡°Not ¡¯til Hannah or Cam or Kelsey gets here.¡± Kelsey didn¡¯t even live in this dorm.

    ¡°I hate you,¡± she mumbled under her breath.

    ¡°Feeling¡¯s mutual.¡± Yeah, sure. If that was the case, he would have left the minute they got to the Health Center.

 Chapter 10

    Their aggressive silence seemed to attack everyone that came into the building. Strangers and familiar neighbors walked in, saw her sitting in the ugly green chair, and Peter hovering near, and they immediately booked it to their next objective. Cat figured it was maybe the combination of the blood and the look of murder on her face.

    She didn¡¯t think to do anything other than wait for Hannah until the RA, Daniel, opened the front doors and walked inside. He didn¡¯t even look up while he walked; he typed away at his phone, laughing to himself. If it weren¡¯t for the red hair, he reminded her of Peter.

    ¡°Daniel,¡± Cat called. When he looked up, his eyes bulged out of his head.

    ¡°Woah! What happened?¡± Daniel¡¯s chocolate-colored eyes darted back and forth between Peter and Cat, making up his own mind before they could answer. ¡°Did someone leave you guys in a room together or something? Christ!¡± Well, it wasn¡¯t an unreasonable hypothesis.

    ¡°Can I borrow your phone?¡± she asked him instead. Gripping the plush arms, she slowly rose from the chair to approach him. ¡°Mine¡¯s ruined--I just have to call my parents really quick to let them know to call my roommate to get in touch with me.¡± Daniel raised his brows at her, but nodded.

    ¡°Yeah, just gotta finish this text. I¡¯ve gotta rock a piss, so I¡¯ll just come back for it.¡± And, after a quick minute, he looked up and started to hand her his phone. ¡°What happened?¡±

    ¡°I slipped,¡± she answered quickly. ¡°He--¡± Although Cat gestured with her thumb to Peter behind her, she was uncertain if he actually lined up with where she blindly pointed. But what words to use? He saved me was--although true--far too intimate. ¡°He took me to the Health Center.¡± Daniel couldn¡¯t seem to recover from his shock. ¡°Thanks for letting me borrow your phone. I¡¯ll be done by the time you get back, I promise.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Daniel sounded, no longer looking at her, ¡°take your time. Yeah--glad you¡¯re okay.¡± He didn¡¯t seem to register handing her his phone, but he did eventually find his way to the restroom down the hallway.

    Cat didn¡¯t waste any time, and immediately pressed on the touch screen to dial her mother¡¯s cell number.

    "Hello?" her mother answered after the third ring. Just hearing her voice, after all that happened¡­. Cat sucked in a deep breath to prevent the heat from escaping her eyes.

    ¡°Mom, it¡¯s me¡­.¡± She wrapped her arms around herself and faced toward the wall, as if it would give her any sort of privacy. ¡°My phone¡¯s--it¡¯s not--¡± Now was not the time to panic. ¡°It¡¯s broken. I¡¯ll text you from my roommate¡¯s phone so you have a way to get a hold of me, but I haven¡¯t seen her yet.¡±

    Her mother hesitated on the other line. ¡±Baby girl, are you alright?" Expert mother instincts. From the corner of her vision, Cat could just barely make out Peter¡¯s looming frame, unfocused, but clearly listening. Good lord, he had no concept of privacy, did he?

    She glanced at him for a brief moment; of course, he snapped his gaze away to pretend like he wasn¡¯t actively listening.

    "Mama,¡± Cat began in a snap decision to switch to Spanish, ¡°estoy lastimado.¡± Fully turning away from Peter, she began to speak to her mother in their native tongue, detailing how she fainted by the side of a pond, that someone took her to the hospital, that she and Dad would receive a bill for twenty dollars. Her mother reacted as expected: wailing that she couldn¡¯t be there for her, regret that she couldn¡¯t drop everything and drive down to Bay Area University to take care of her.

    "Mi pobre ni?a!¡± she cried. ¡±Why did you faint?¡± Now came the part Cat dreaded. She took in a shaky breath and stared at the floor. She didn¡¯t lie to her mother very often. And with how on-point her instincts were at the beginning of this conversation, there was no use trying to lie now.

    Cat continued in Spanish, ¡±I had to replace a book, and I haven¡¯t been able to afford much to eat. I just--my paycheck is coming tomorrow, so I--¡±

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you call us?¡± her mother asked, her voice taut as if she was in physical pain. ¡°We can wire you money, Kitty Cat. It¡¯s okay!¡± No it wasn¡¯t. She already absorbed so much of their income¡­. ¡°What upcoming expenses do you have, honey? Just the doctor and the phone?¡±

    Cat¡¯s eyes were glued to the floor enough to see that her clothes were almost undoubtedly ruined. She didn¡¯t know how to get blood out of anything.

    "My workout clothes¡­." At the mention, her eyes flickered up to Peter. He sat on the arm of a chair, rather than in it like an adult, waiting, not looking at her. Cat sighed. ¡±The person that--that got me, um, out of the pond¡­. I got blood all over his clothes and his towels. I--I can pay you back, but I should replace them--"

    "We will replace them, mija," her mother promised. ¡°This person, do you know them? Can we thank them somehow?¡± Oh, god. The last thing Cat wanted was her mother finding Peter¡¯s address so she could send him tamales and a hand-written note. Ew. No, thank you.

    ¡°Um--he¡¯s my friend, Cam¡¯s, roommate, and he was with a couple other guys." She silently begged for her mother to stop asking questions about him.

    "Is it that one cute guy you complain about? What¡¯s-his-name? Peter?¡± Cat only answered with an ¡°mmhmm,¡± in hopes that it would be enough. ¡±Why were you hanging out with him?¡±

    ¡°We weren¡¯t hanging out,¡± Cat corrected in a mumble. ¡±He just showed up at the right time, or something, I guess." Now her heart started to pound as she thought of it all again. Seeing Peter¡¯s face one second, feeling him hold her the next. What was the last conversation she had with her mother? Some sort of text about how Cat missed TV. Nothing important. That would have been the last thing she spoke to her mother about if¡­. She shivered.

    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    ¡°He must not be that bad if he saved my baby girl." And at that moment, Cat found herself caught between the idea of agreeing with her mother, and correcting her, but neither idea won out in the end, as Daniel appeared in the peripherals of her vision. Cat frowned, and cut her mother off in English.

    ¡°Can I call you back from Hannah¡¯s phone? I was just borrowing this for a minute to contact you--¡±

    "Yes! Of course, baby girl. Call me as soon as you can and we will figure out what to do next. I love you.¡±

    ¡°Love you too.¡± Daniel gave a pronounced frown when Cat handed his phone back to him.

    ¡°Glad you¡¯re okay,¡± he repeated to her. ¡°Look, I gotta grab my stuff and bounce, but if you need anything, let me know, okay? I¡¯ll be back later.¡±

    ¡°Thanks. I should be fine, but thanks.¡± After a few quick words complimenting Peter on his ¡°hero skills,¡± Daniel bid them farewell and headed up the stairwell without a second glance back.

    Sighing, Cat returned to the armchair she originally sat in. Her head, at least, throbbed consistently. If she had any over the counter meds, it would probably help her feel better. Maybe Hannah did¡­. Catherine was about to twist around and sink into the chair when Peter cleared his throat. She looked up at him.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to get me replacement clothes,¡± he said.

    Cat wrinkled her brows together. ¡°Huh?¡± How did he know about that?

    ¡°They¡¯re cheap, they¡¯re old--don¡¯t worry about it. And the towels are the school¡¯s. You don¡¯t owe me anything.¡±

    The familiar burn in her stomach returned, and she turned to him, abandoning any thought of resting until Hannah got here. ¡°Were you eavesdropping on my conversation?¡±

    ¡°No, I just overheard--¡±

    ¡°You speak Spanish?¡± she realized at the same time, eyes wide. Why did she even bother switching languages--how was she supposed to know he spoke Spanish?

    Peter paused for far too long before he asked, ¡°?Eres un idiota?¡±

    ¡°Excuse me?¡± Why did he just ask if she was an idiot? In Spanish? Which he somehow understood?

    He looked at her like she was crazy. ¡°Uh, my name is Jerard Peter Leon. That¡¯s Spanish. How did you not know that?¡± And he said it with all the flawless, flowery accent required to pull off a name like that. Cat blinked.

    ¡°I...didn¡¯t know your full name.¡± Her tone was a mixture of defensiveness and quiet defeat. If she had, she might have waited to tell her mom anything. Did he hear what she said, too? Was the volume on Daniel¡¯s phone loud enough so that Peter could hear everything her mother said?

    Peter glared. ¡°How did you not know my name? Professor Harlem literally said it first day of class, and I had to correct her because she butchered it so bad.¡± She hadn¡¯t paid attention that day. Cat was so focused on her own name, she didn¡¯t even think to listen for his.

    She shook her head, staring into his bright green eyes, examining his pale skin, his blond hair. ¡°But you¡¯re...you don¡¯t look....¡± She hated herself for saying it like that.

    ¡°Yeah, well, my dad--or--my mom¡¯s hus--ex hus--my--we thought I thought I was until recently.¡± That was a weird stumble. Did that have to do with his money issues? New divorce in the family, income juggling? Stumbling over ¡°dad¡± to ¡°mom¡¯s ex¡± revealed a lot more than he planned, but she didn¡¯t react to this newfound information any different from his other words. ¡°Maybe if you stopped assuming you knew everything just by looking at someone, you¡¯d know when code-switching would actually work.¡± Granted, what she nearly said wasn¡¯t exactly polite, but his tone was far too accusatory. Rude. Irritating.

    Cat crossed her arms. ¡°You--you weren¡¯t supposed to hear any of that! Can¡¯t you tell when something¡¯s private? How was I supposed to know you were Latino? Read the room, for fuck¡¯s sake!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not Latino, I just said--¡±

    ¡°Close enough!¡± she spat. ¡°Raised Latino, suddenly not, whatever; you¡¯re Latino, just shut up!¡± She was supposed to be making him feel bad. But for whatever reason, her words didn¡¯t seem to dent him one bit. He almost seemed like he liked what she said: brow raised, his grimace softer than before. And, for a split second while she realized it, a slight pang in her head connected the dots. Dad to ex-husband, thought he was Latino until recently. Dammit, what she just said probably made him feel better. Ugh! ¡°No!¡± she started again, pointing. ¡°No, the point is, you¡¯re a nosy, stupid--¡± Something inside her was desperate to make him furious, desperate to see the ugly side of him. She fished for words, and as they came to mind, she spewed them without a second thought: ¡°You¡¯re an egotistical bastard with a god complex!¡± He flinched. There it was, the pressure point.

    Peter glowered, now, crossing his arms over his chest, stepping closer so he could look down at her. Here it was. Proof that he was just as shitty as Cat thought he was.

    ¡°What bothers you more, hm?¡± he asked. ¡°That I was the one that saved you, or that you wouldn¡¯t do the same for me? Does it bug you that I¡¯m a better person than you?¡± It took him so much less time to figure out how to make her shrink. Her head pounded even harder; heat rose to her cheeks, forcing her to blink a lot more than she normally did. Do not cry in front of him, she chanted to herself in her head.

    ¡°Y-you¡¯re not a better person,¡± Cat stammered. She¡¯d like to think she¡¯d rescue anyone that was drowning, no matter who it was. She never had an opportunity to prove that she would, like Peter just did¡­.

    ¡°So then your problem is that it was me--?¡± Of course it was!

    Her hands shook, even though she kept them held so tightly in her folded arms. ¡°If you¡¯re so upset, you should have just left me in the pond!¡±

    Peter¡¯s eyes went wide. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t just--!¡±

    Finally, Hannah¡¯s voice broke through the tension. ¡°Oh my god, who put you guys together without supervision?¡± She burst through the doors with such a huge smile, it snapped them out of their bubble. When Peter stepped away to turn and address Hannah, she screamed, finally with a view of all the dried blood all over Peter¡¯s clothes. ¡°What the hell?¡±

    Peter started off with a heavy sigh. ¡°She fell, hit her head, went to the Health Center, and has to be monitored all weekend. My shift is over.¡± While Hannah stared with a look of horror, Cat couldn¡¯t take her eyes off of Peter, who threw his arms as if he was shoving off responsibility.

    ¡°And you know what?¡± he continued, pointing at her with renewed fervor, ¡°I¡¯d do it again. Even now.¡± With his lips pursed so tightly they nearly disappeared, he spun around and stalked out toward the doors that Hannah just came through. Cat watched him the entire way, the way his energy followed him like a storm, the way he completely ignored the way people stared at his bloodied clothes. He took the anger with him, leaving her exhausted and weak.

    She barely felt her roommate¡¯s arms wrap around her. ¡°Oh my god, did he push you or something?¡± Hannah asked.

    Cat blinked as the front doors to the building slammed shut. ¡°No. He saved my life.¡±

    ¡°What--then why are you crying?¡± It wasn¡¯t until Hannah said something that Cat became aware of the tears streaming down her cheeks, dripping onto her roomie¡¯s shoulder and into her hair.

    No words came to her. Nothing that made sense, anyway.

 Chapter 11

    Cat¡¯s head lay in Hannah¡¯s lap for the next two hours. The sweet girl swept her fingers through the crusty and bloody hair without a hint of judgment. Cat tried not to cry, but was reduced to a melted puddle of sobs by the end, lamenting about how much of a burden she was, how horrible she was as a person, how she was going to fail everything from having to take time off of class and work, how she was destined to be poor and lonely for her whole life. What kind of person just kept leeching money from her parents? After all the opportunity they gave her? And what kind of person would hardly stand up to Peter as an example?

    Hannah sat and listened the whole time, not interrupting, not correcting. She just murmured quiet signs she was listening while Cat coughed and struggled to breathe.

    ¡°A-and,¡± she stammered as she gasped for air, ¡°he would e-e-even do it ag-g-g-gain, af-f-fter all I said, h-h-how shitty I am--¡± Cat interrupted herself to sob a little more before she continued, ¡°I don¡¯t even know if--if I could in his shoes. I c-c-can¡¯t even turn--hic, hic--around without falling, how c-can I save anyone like tha-a-at?¡± Her head ached so hard, throbbing as if it punished her for even daring to think she might be strong enough to save a life. ¡°I¡¯ve ne-e-ever saved anyone. I don¡¯t think I ca-a-an! Why-y am I worth saving?¡± Hannah¡¯s legs were so soft against her head; Cat didn¡¯t deserve anything so merciful. Especially the friendly girl¡¯s hand rubbing gently in time with her breathing against her spine.

    ¡°Honey,¡± Hannah started for the first time since they¡¯d gotten back to their dorm, her voice so soft and gentle that Cat nearly didn¡¯t hear it. ¡°Can I say something?¡±

    Cat only managed to stop herself from sobbing just because she simply asked. She sniffled, then turned her had to glance up to Hannah.

    ¡°I¡¯m s-s-sorry,¡± Cat continued, wiping her nose with her hand. ¡°Go ahead. I¡¯m sorry.¡± Hannah grimaced, then swapped from rubbing her roomie¡¯s back to her arm. It was as if it was a warning: comfort time is almost over. Time to breathe.

    ¡°Bad people don¡¯t worry about this stuff.¡±

    ¡°What stuff?¡± Cat asked. Did she already forget what Hannah said? Was she already that poor of a listener?

    ¡°Being a bad person.¡± Hannah sounded like Cam for a split moment. Cat blinked up at her, eyes crusted with sadness, shame. ¡°Good people worry about being good. Bad people don¡¯t.¡±

    Cat wiped a few tears away, feeling their coolness against her hand. She already begun to feel a little tired, a little relieved an hour ago. But Hannah had a way of putting a neat, little bow on things. A way to finish an argument that may have started months ago. She wasn¡¯t ready to stop feeling sorry for herself before, but now that Hannah spoke, maybe it was time to move on.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Catherine asked. Finally, she slowly worked her way to sit up next to her friend. Though her whole body screamed and ached at her, the part of her that knew it was time to get up and brush off her pants told her it was time to listen, to sit up and hear what Hannah had to say.

    ¡°I mean, you nearly died today--kind of--and instead of worrying about that or making a bucket list, you have spent the whole last couple hours crying because you¡¯re not sure if you¡¯ll ever be able to save someone else¡¯s life. That doesn¡¯t make you shitty.¡± Was that true? Cat sniffled, then stared at her crossed legs. ¡°If you don¡¯t believe me, ask anyone. Kelsey, Cam. Should I call them and ask?¡± Hannah¡¯s face was lit up with so much genuine earnesty, that Cat smiled and shook her head.

    ¡°No, not tonight.¡± But the thought made her eyes swell again. ¡°Why are you so good to me? You didn¡¯t sign up for this.¡± As Cat went to squeeze Hannah¡¯s hand, the blonde laughed.

    ¡°Girl. If you don¡¯t think I¡¯m turning in a favor for this, you are seriously delirious.¡± The girls shared a laugh. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s shower, get in jim-jams, get you some rest. Rest up all day tomorrow so that Saturday, Kelsey and I can bombard you with romance movie choices.¡± How could anyone say no to that?

    <hr>

    The shower took nearly an hour to get through; Cat even had to, horrifyingly, ask for Hannah¡¯s help in washing her hair. It hurt too much to touch herself; she couldn¡¯t even think about approaching the back of her head without help. Hannah seemed to be completely immune to any type of shame, though. For herself, for others. It wasn¡¯t so bad.

    But the night fell, dark and comforting, smelling sweet and fresh, by the time Cat returned to her room. Pain meds kicked in, the peanut butter crackers Hannah gave her satisfied her enough to stop the growling of her stomach, and now they sat across from each other on their beds in robes with their hair in towels.

    Cat frowned with her mind still on the earlier conversation.

    ¡°No, really,¡± she started as Hannah began to start her supposed 10-step skincare routine. ¡°You¡¯re so nice to me. I¡¯ve been blowing you off all week, and you¡¯re just¡­.¡± Cat was too exhausted to cry again. Hannah shrugged, but gave a small smile.

    ¡°You¡¯re sounding like you haven¡¯t had a nice friend before. In which case, allow me to teach you: Good friends don¡¯t judge. Good friends just sit there, absorb, comfort, and love. It¡¯s fine. I guarantee you that you will deal with my drunk-ass sobbing about less things way more often than you will feel like a bad person.¡± Hannah¡¯s genuine smile made her heart swell.

    ¡°Is this what it¡¯s like to have a sister?¡± she asked, sort of aware of how corny it was. Hannah let out a belly-laugh.

    ¡°Hell no! Unless the next time I pass out, you give me a glass of vodka when I wake up and then make fun of me for being a lightweight. Or if you sleep with my boyfriend and make fun of me for not being able to satisfy him, then give me vodka to get through Thanksgiving while she introduces him to the extended fam as her ¡¯next hubby.¡¯¡± Although Hannah laughed with her, every word she said sent alarms through Cat¡¯s mind. But, the laughter said maybe now wasn¡¯t the time to ask about such a specific example.

    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    Maybe Hannah was such a sweet girl because she was in desperate need of someone to be there for her. Instead of asking the rush of questions that entered her mind, Cat laughed, joked, and finally towel-dried her hair to prepare for bed.

    ¡°Girl¡¯s night Saturday,¡± Cat promised as she started to crawl into bed. ¡°And then, we pretend like we never felt sad.¡±

    ¡°Now you¡¯re getting it!¡± Hannah announced. ¡°Grin and bear it!¡± Despite laughing, Cat silently wondered how many times Hannah was told that to prevent her from crying just the way Cat did.

    <hr>

    She still went to Communications, despite Hannah¡¯s protest. But it was laughably simple. Read, stare at the board, write notes. Peter kept turning around to look at her, But Cat paid no mind. Did he think a headache would stop her from paying attention? Please. She had the rest of the night to nurse her aching brain. Friday was easy.

    Friday night, though, when she couldn¡¯t remember where she put her room key (it was in her hand), Hannah convinced her to call out of work for the weekend. Sitting and occupying a desk was one thing. Taking and memorizing coffee orders was another. If Cat¡¯s parents didn¡¯t just wire her a hundred and fifty bucks, she would¡¯ve gone anyway. But maybe some rest was needed. And she could literally afford to eat, now, so....

    And Saturday, surrounded by no one other than Kelsey and Hannah, Cat¡¯s mood couldn¡¯t be tainted. Movies, popcorn, old childhood stories exchanged while sitting in the middle of the dorm room floor: it felt like a sleepover from her middle school days. Kelsey and Hannah were welcome distractions to her headaches, her periodic dizziness, and overall sluggishness. To Cat¡¯s immense surprise and relief, Hannah didn¡¯t mention a single thing to Kelsey about why she fell by the pond. Every embarrassing detail that Cat admitted to while sobbing in her lap was hidden behind her witty jokes.

    It wasn¡¯t that Kelsey wasn¡¯t awesome. But for Hannah to automatically keep something a secret without prompting, was...refreshing. A step better than high school, at least, when her ¡°best friend¡± told everyone when Cat finally ¡°did it¡± with her boyfriend.

    While Cat¡¯s mom emailed, asking for information about the guy that saved her, she wanted to correct her mom and say, ¡°No. Hannah¡¯s the real MVP. She deserves your tamales.¡± Instead, she just asked her mom to send some tamales to her and Hannah. She¡¯d consider giving one to Peter. Maybe. If he happened to be around when she opened the anticipated care package next week. (Otherwise, she couldn''t even guarantee they''d last long enough to gift.)

    But until then, Cat found herself excited for a package that arrived just in time for her to pick it up on Monday. Her dad¡¯s old phone. One of the newer ones: a touch screen with Internet access and everything.

    Cat could hardly get her mind to focus on one thing at a time when she got it right before lunch. Part of her worried about work and Communications, part of her ached despite Hannah¡¯s timely OTC pain meds, and part of her indulged in Kelsey¡¯s loud fantasies while she waited for every update on the planet to load on her new, fancy brick.

    ¡°Have you downloaded Talkative yet?¡± Kelsey asked, nudging Cat. A drip of mustard dripped from her hot dog onto the edge of Cat¡¯s plastic chair. She raised her brows, and Kelsey retreated with an apology.

    ¡°I haven¡¯t downloaded anything yet. There¡¯s been updates since I turned it on,¡± she said with a shrug. ¡°What¡¯s Talkative?¡± She had no idea the question would delight her friends so much.

    ¡°Oh my god!¡± Hannah cried, despite knowing Cat¡¯s headache was quite bad today. She reached across the table, almost dipping her elbow in her french fries, and took Cat¡¯s phone to check on the progress. ¡°It¡¯s the best. Anonymous, free. You gotta download it. Sheesh, seventy percent.¡± She set it back.

    ¡°It¡¯s location-based, too, so you can talk to anyone here.¡±

    ¡°But anonymous!¡± Hannah reiterated. She retreated to her fries and leaned back in her chair. ¡°People only know you¡¯re in the area. And they only know who you are if you tell them.¡± Why in the world would that be something she would need?

    ¡°Look, they have teacher reviews and everything.¡± Kelsey shoved a screen in Cat¡¯s face. A simple, dark layout had a chat thread opened by the username YoYo95: Dr. Popadopulous. Responses varied from ¡°fair¡± to ¡°bastard hit me with his car and I still didn¡¯t pass his class.¡± Cat¡¯s eyes went wide.

    ¡°What¡¯s the point of it?¡± As if this question offended her, Kelsey snatched her phone back and began searching.

    ¡°Look. Look at this.¡± Another thread, this one titled ¡°Best place to poop?¡± The answers were...surprisingly helpful. Cat never considered just going to the bookstore¡¯s bathroom when nature called. She offered a laugh.

    ¡°Okay, I didn¡¯t think of that.¡±

    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s so funny, too. Great time-killer. Look at this thread. Roast My Subject.¡± Kelsey scrolled to another. ¡°You reply with a roast to whatever the person before you prompts. Like--HAH!¡± She scrolled to the bottom.

    Cat decided to read it out loud for Hannah¡¯s benefit: ¡°Subject is English Majors. PumpkinKing said--¡± She couldn¡¯t help it. She started to giggle a little as she read, ¡°¡®English Majors are people that learned how to read and couldn¡¯t learn how to do anything else.¡¯ That¡¯s harsh!¡± The girls laughed at a few of the earlier replies before Cat¡¯s phone signaled that it was done with updates.

    ¡°That thread was maaaade for you, Cat,¡± Kelsey said, as she returned to her hotdog and fries. ¡°You¡¯re sharp like that. You¡¯re going to get so many people.¡±

    ¡°Maybe we shouldn¡¯t have introduced her to it,¡± Hannah joked with a full mouth. They laughed.

    It took a little coaching, but Cat eventually figured out how to download the app and start to create her account. She hesitated. Nickname¡­. She looked to her friends. ¡°Who are you on it?¡±

    Kelsey shook her head. ¡°Oh hell no!¡±

    ¡°A-non-ny-mous!¡± Hannah sounded out slowly as she pounded her fist on the table. It made her head ache a little, but it wasn¡¯t nearly as bad as when she was hungover.

    Cat shrugged. ¡°But it¡¯s asking for my email.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s for password authentication and stuff,¡± Kelsey said, waving it off. ¡°They never use that stuff. Except for like if you get hacked, or do a bomb threat or whatever.¡± Cat hesitated even more, now.

    ¡°Bomb threat?¡± She raised a brow.

    Kelsey sighed. ¡°I mean, nothing¡¯s actually anonymous on your device. The government is always watching.¡±

    ¡°Oh, you mean like that. Well, yeah...but no one else can figure out who¡¯s who?¡±

    ¡°Not without, like, a warrant, I don¡¯t think. Or if you¡¯re like the developer or whatever.¡±

    Hannah decided to steal some spotlight. ¡°I mean, be responsible. Don¡¯t be an asshole just because you¡¯re hidden. It¡¯s still the Internet. Everything is forever on the Internet.¡±

    ¡°Like this supposed nickname I have to register,¡± said Cat. ¡°I don¡¯t even know where to start.¡± She looked to Kelsey, the supposed expert on the subject.

    ¡°Um, not with your name, obvi. But like when instant messenger was still a thing, before Skype, I was PrincessNotPeachy.¡±

    Cat scrunched her nose. ¡°I can¡¯t tell if that¡¯s cute or not.¡±

    ¡°Yeah...give it some thought. Do something original. Weed420 is a username that has like twenty variations.¡± Hannah and Kelsey spent the rest of their free lunch hour trying to jog nickname ideas for Cat, like old pets, old nicknames that weren¡¯t very obviously feline-related. Cat liked to think her poker face was pretty good. Truth was that as they spoke, she had already picked out a nickname and made her first post, a response to PumpkinKing, whose prompt was Ugg Boots.

    ¡°Ugg boots: Almost as basic as PumpkinKing. Roast: me.¡±

 Chapter 12

    Hannah and Kelsey really shouldn¡¯t have shown Cat that app, especially that Roast My Subject thread. She had a good couple of rounds with PumpkinKing after her last post with the request to roast her.

    InsultCatapult is one of a kind. Thank God.

    Peter Framptin (kudos if you know who this is without looking it up)

    Peter Framptin is so ashamed of his voice that he has to sing through his instruments, Cat wrote. Why wouldn¡¯t someone know who that is? What, was this person trying to get brownie points for liking one of the most famous classic rock artists of all time? The guy was on Oprah! Pft. Roast the idea of ¡°kudos.¡±

    PumpkinKing ¡°reacted to¡± her reply with a laughing emoji. Was she a hypocrite, smiling at a screen in her hand when she shamed so many others for the same thing? Kudos is a participation trophy you give to stupid people that surprise you when they say something smart. Roast the person that will post after you.

    Oh, PumpkinKing wanted to play? Game on! And, to Cat¡¯s delight, her debauchery was only encouraged by more slews of laughing emojis from people with ridiculous screen names. She and PumpkinKing were only able to exchange a few more posts before PandaSex69 interrupted with a pretty devastating self-burn: ¡°My interest in watching that exchange continue is smaller than my micropenis.¡± PandaSex69 earned the fifty laughing emojis that he received.

    This was far too distracting to be good at any length, Cat decided. Though addicting.

    Her wakeup call was just hours after she got comfortable using Talkative. She sat in her usual chair in Communications with her face glued to her screen, waiting for the professor to arrive, when the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Ah, Darth Vader, himself entered the room. He had a way of chilling a sauna.

    Anticipating battle, Cat looked up. But Peter merely raised a brow at her hand on her phone, and sat in his seat without another look back. And it wasn¡¯t like she could just start spewing insults at him to egg him on, even if she was already greased and ready from that stupid thread. Not after...everything. Though she wanted to. That just wasn¡¯t something a person did. Not when it wasn¡¯t prompted.

    Cat¡¯s appetite for roasting random subjects disappeared after that.

    <hr>

    The only thing that Cat looked forward to on Friday was her care package. Her parents and brother promised to send lots of little things to remind her of home, and they did not disappoint. Getting the staples removed hurt like a son of a bitch, and the only thing that stopped Cat from being in a horrible mood from the pain was the small, flat-rate box. Her mother drew hearts all over it, as if it would be embarrassing. It was a cute attempt. But it really just made her heart feel full, and it made the courier laugh when Cat identified it from a pile of processed boxes.

    The goodies didn¡¯t stop at a bag full of tamales. Underneath were stickers of sugar skulls and decorated skeletons, paper decorations, and bat window clings for her dorm¡¯s window. And, of course, lots and lots of her favorite candies like sour gummy worms and Mike and Ikes. Best of all, a small bunch of used fake spider webs with spider rings in it right beside a bag of roasted pumpkin seeds. That was her brother¡¯s touch.

    Halloween was soon--two weeks from now. It was tradition, one of Cat¡¯s favorites, to cook pumpkin seeds in the oven and decorate the front porch with her mom for all the neighborhood kids. They would see her walk out the porch with the fake spider webs and rush her, asking for more ghost stories. She¡¯d gathered quite a repertoire to keep the cul-de-sac kids entertained throughout the years, too. Her little brother would always round up all the kids that weren¡¯t around so she wouldn¡¯t have to repeat the story over and over again, so she always had to have something new ready.

    Nothing felt as nice as this did. Nothing radiated love and warmth like a box full of random crap that meant so much to her. And the tamales¡­.

    Cat glanced at the sticky note in her mom¡¯s handwriting. Two, simple words: ¡°To share¡± with ¡°share¡± underlined three times. If the bag wasn¡¯t bursting, and if she had a mini-fridge, Cat would pretend like she never saw that note...but there was no way she could eat all of these by herself.

    And, as she looked at the tamales, her smile faded. There was more than one reason she got this piece of home. The rest of the reason sizzled in her bank account like acid, reminding her when she checked her balance that she had too much money in there, meant to be spent on workout clothes. Peter¡¯s workout clothes.

    Shopping for him was...weird didn¡¯t cover it. The bookstore carried university activewear, thankfully. She didn¡¯t know if she could build up the courage to ask Kelsey to drive her to the store to buy Peter clothes, so she remained on campus. She wasn¡¯t even sure if Kelsey knew that Peter was there, if he was the one that took her to the Health Center. Cat wasn¡¯t exactly specific when she explained everything, and with how tight-lipped Hannah was, there was no knowing how much Kelsey and Cam did or didn¡¯t know. Cam wasn¡¯t acting weird about it, and she thought that maybe he might if he knew. Was this whole thing a secret?

    Cat hesitated in front of one of the mannequins. How was she supposed to know what size to get him? And how weird was it, walking around, picturing him in all these clothes? How weird was it that she went through them, and thought, No, I haven¡¯t seen him wear any with sleeves. I don¡¯t think he likes sleeves. How could she assume his preferences when she didn¡¯t even know his full name until last week?

    She drifted toward a white, sleeveless workout shirt and reached toward the material. It felt very similar to what she¡¯d ruined. The price wasn¡¯t bad, and it looked close enough. He said it was an old set of clothes, but he must have liked them for some reason if he kept them for that long. Cat picked one up and held it in front of her, squinting, trying to picture Peter standing in front of her.

    Dammit, she should have just bit the bullet and asked Cam what size he was. But now Cam was in class, and she was already here¡­. Best guess in mind, Cat snatched the next size up for the shirt and went for the gym shorts. For these, she had a better idea. While Peter¡¯s upper body was a bit broader, with bulkier shoulders, his waist looked very similar to Cam¡¯s--and she knew his size.

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    Cat stared at the clock while she checked out with her purchase, chewing on her lip. Cam¡¯s class would end in about half an hour. Did she want him to be around when she delivered these? Should she just do it now, or wait? She apparently, subconsciously decided when she returned to her dorm, and was surprised to find herself opening the bag of tamales to put one with the gym clothes. Should she get a paper towel for it? A napkin? Oh well, too late.

    After a quick glance in the mirror to fix her hair and make sure her mascara wasn¡¯t halfway down her face, Cat made her way to Cam¡¯s--or, rather, Peter¡¯s dorm.

    Maybe he wasn¡¯t in. Maybe she could just put it all on the floor and leave. But, because her mother raised her right, Cat gently knocked on the door and took a step back to wait.

    Her heart leapt to her throat as she watched the door handle twist and pull inward. Peter entered the door frame, leaning against it as he propped the door open. He didn¡¯t seem surprised to see her. Just like every Friday, he wore a plain shirt and jeans.

    ¡°Cam¡¯s not--¡± His eyes dropped to her hands, ¡°...here¡­.¡± His expression softened to a slight confusion, a wrinkle by an eyebrow before he shook his head. ¡°What? No, I said--¡±

    ¡°Shut up, it¡¯s non-refundable.¡± Swallowing thickly, she offered the clothes in her hand, folded neatly and tightly, topped with a room-temperature tamale. God, if he didn¡¯t take these from her soon, her hands were going to start shaking. ¡°Take them.¡±

    ¡°I--I told you--¡±

    ¡°And you weren¡¯t supposed to even hear that. So I¡¯m pretending you didn¡¯t. It¡¯s¡­.¡± Cat¡¯s gaze faltered as she fidgeted, gesturing with her shoulder to the tamale. ¡°It¡¯s from my mom.¡± I¡¯m not saying please, she told herself, so she repeated, ¡°Take them.¡±

    He took his sweet time. Peter¡¯s dimples normally reserved themselves for smiles, but he pursed his lips so tightly, they punctuated his lips ever-so slightly. Finally, he broke away from the doorway and reached forward, gingerly accepting the replacement clothes. Warm, soft fingers brushed over hers, raising the hair on the back of her neck at the accidental touch. Those hands that literally pulled her out of a pond, that held her head while she floated in and out of fainting spells. That were soaked in so much blood, that carried her to the--

    ¡°Thanks, I guess.¡± Cat sucked in a breath. While she was stuck in her mind, Peter returned to the door, looking far more uncomfortable than she¡¯d ever seen him. She wanted to turn and leave, but her feet rooted to the spot. The thickness in her throat seemed to spread to the space between them, heavy like morning fog.

    ¡°Cat--¡±

    ¡°Did you tell Cam?¡± she blurted before he could say anything. Peter blinked at her.

    ¡°Did I tell Cam...that I was there when you fell?¡± Saved my life, her mind corrected silently. ¡°No, it hasn¡¯t come up. Not really something I¡¯ve advertised.¡± Something about the way he stood changed. He shifted his weight from one foot to another, his gaze narrowed curiously. Cat chewed on her lip and studied him just as closely.

    ¡°He didn¡¯t wonder why you were covered in blood?¡± she challenged. Was this a secret? She didn¡¯t intend for it to be--not that she actively hid it or anything.

    ¡°I¡¯d already showered when I saw him at dinner,¡± was Peter¡¯s answer. ¡°Is this your way of telling me to eat the tamale before he comes back from class?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± At least not at first. But for a brief, selfish moment, she realized that she could eat more tamales by herself if Cam didn¡¯t know she had them in the first place. But that wasn¡¯t why she asked. Cat sighed. ¡°I just didn¡¯t know if he knew the whole story, or¡­. Whatever. It doesn¡¯t matter. It¡¯s not a secret or anything.¡±

    ¡°Look, as far as I¡¯m concerned, this makes us completely even. Okay? Like it never happened.¡± When she tried to meet his eyes, his looked anywhere but at her. ¡°Nothing has actually changed.¡± Something about him saying that sent a wave of relief washing over her.

    ¡°Right, nothing¡¯s changed,¡± she echoed.

    For a moment, the heavy fog remained. Peter finally looked up at her again, almost inauthentic when he said, ¡°I still think you¡¯re annoying. And stupid.¡±

    She furrowed her brows. ¡°What did I do that¡¯s stupid?¡±

    ¡°You put a bare tamale on white clothes.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not bare, it¡¯s got the corn husk. Get over yourself.¡± He looked as if he was trying to scowl, but the laughter had already reached his eyes. Without a comeback, he shook his head and shut his door.

    <hr>

    Dinner that night started off a little weird. Hannah and Cam sat with her in the food court, and Cat could already tell that Cam had talked to Peter about last week. There was something about him that was different, just the way he kept quiet, held back a little. Hannah kept giving glances to Cat, but they didn¡¯t pry him. He would say something when he wanted to.

    ¡°So, Cat¡­.¡± Here it was. ¡°Why did you give Peter a tamale but not me?¡± Oh, for crying out--

    Cat rolled her eyes. ¡°You¡¯re getting two,¡± she decided last minute.

    ¡°Oh!¡± He recovered immediately, his smile returning to grace the table. ¡°I thought you were mad at me or something.¡± Why did Cat ever think she knew what was going on in his head? She was always wrong. Here she was, worried that everything would be weird, and Cam was just concerned that she was mad because of a tamale.

    ¡°No, I don¡¯t know if I can be mad at you,¡± Catherine admitted through laughter. ¡°Just haven¡¯t been back to my dorm.¡±

    ¡°So--I feel dumb,¡± Cam said quickly, glazing over what she said. ¡°I totally missed when you said he was there.¡± Now here it was. Cat froze, her heart aflutter in her chest and her fingertips numb against her chopsticks. 3...2...1¡­. ¡°So are you guys, like, friends now?¡±

    ¡°Nothing¡¯s changed,¡± she was quick to correct. Cam didn¡¯t seem to hear her, and Hannah¡¯s stare was a hundred pounds.

    ¡°So can we hang out with both of you at the same time, then?¡± Cat finally snapped her gaze up to Cam. She didn¡¯t know what she expected, but he seemed excited. Her brows knitted together. ¡°Like tomorrow we can all go get Mexican together, rather than us splitting our time like divorced parents?¡±

    ¡°Wait, do you guys go to Mexican without me?¡± Why would they go to Mexican food without the Mexican? Was that what they were doing when she couldn¡¯t ever figure out where everyone was?

    ¡°Well,¡± Hannah started, obviously looking to diffuse Cat¡¯s new mood, ¡°not always Mexican. We just hang out when you¡¯re at work and stuff.¡± Now what Peter said a few weeks ago made sense. They had been hanging out when she wasn¡¯t around.

    ¡°You...felt like you had to hide that from me?¡± It wasn¡¯t what she wanted to say, but it was the nicest version. Her reality had been challenged too much lately. She wasn¡¯t sure if she could handle one other, little thing.

    ¡°Not just you--¡± Cam started. He seemed to regret his words the minute they flew out of his mouth. ¡°I mean, not hiding. Just when someone brings one of you up, the other gets all...irritated.¡± The table got very quiet all of a sudden. ¡°I mean, just because--like you guys...we like hanging out with you, but don¡¯t want to make you uncomfortable.¡±

    Peter¡¯s voice echoed in her head, repeating, Does it bug you that I¡¯m a better person than you? The increase of her blood pressure brought her headache back, and she stared at the table. She was forcing them to choose between her and Peter. And she wasn¡¯t so confident in who they would pick anymore. She never saved a life.

    ¡°Cat--¡± Hannah could sense her spiral.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to pick between us,¡± Cat said, looking up to them and plastering on a smile. ¡°I¡¯m a big girl. If I¡¯m annoying you, just tell me.¡±

    Cameron and Hannah exchanged looks before he said, ¡°So...you wanna come to La Hacienda tomorrow after work? Kelsey offered to drive us all.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, of course! I mean--¡± She shrugged and poked at her food to feign nonchalance. ¡°If it¡¯s okay with Peter. I know I¡¯ll behave.¡± Or at least she¡¯d try.

    ¡°You know, we should¡¯ve just asked sooner,¡± Hannah decided, shaking her head. ¡°It¡¯s kind of stupid that we were scared of either of you getting upset. I mean, you see each other all the time and nothing¡¯s happened. Like, he even stopped you from dying. At this rate, you¡¯ll be married by the time the world ends.¡± Cam certainly found it funny, but Cat shot her a warning look. He noticed, seemingly amused by this.

    ¡°If that pissed you off, can I have her tamale?¡±

 Chapter 13

    Cat had even less time to get dressed after work. To make matters worse, Hannah was in the room while she was finding something to wear, so she had to somehow make it look like she wasn¡¯t trying to look as cute as she was.

    ¡°Is it cold out?¡± Cat asked as she faced her closet in her robe. She loved dresses, always looked good in them. Who didn¡¯t look good in dresses? Even men did. Scottish men understood that, too. But did she need tights? Would that look like she was trying to hard?

    Hannah looked up from her laptop, shrugging.

    ¡°I dunno. You were the one that was just outside.¡± Right. Cat let out a thoughtful sound, but her roommate shut her laptop with a snap. ¡°Anyway, uh, do you think you could be ready in ten minutes?¡± Ten minutes? Looking as good as she did was a process! Almost blindly, Cat snatched a baby blue dress off a hanger and turned around, heart suddenly aflutter.

    ¡°Sorry! I didn¡¯t know we had a reservation,¡± she said hurriedly, ¡°I would¡¯ve skipped showering¡­.¡±

    ¡°No, no, not a reservation,¡± Hannah reassured while Cat stepped into her dress. ¡°Just we want to make sure we have plenty of time. We normally leave like an hour and a half ago, but you were working, so we pushed it out.¡±

    ¡°Oh. Thank you.¡± But as she threw her robe on her bed and reached for her hairbrush, she still looked to Hannah with questions in her eyes. Why rush? Was she just hangry?

    ¡°Peter¡¯s got work in two hours¡­.¡± Oh. Cat answered her original question by shaking her head yes, though it would be difficult to do hair and makeup in ten minutes. Hair would have to wait.

    Cat was ready in fifteen minutes, though still braiding small locks of her hair on her way to the parking lot where they met Kelsey and Peter. Kelsey¡¯s beat-up Honda was idling, and Peter held a set of keys in his hands in front of a white truck. Of course he had a truck. All dickheads had trucks.

    As she started to pull her hair into a bun, the four of them exchanged pleasantries and waited for Cam for just another minute. And, with girls on one car and guys in another, they drove to La Hacienda without any conflict. Yet.

    At first, Hannah commented, ¡°That wasn¡¯t so bad. Maybe you two can be adults.¡± She twisted around the front seat to stick her tongue out at Cat, who made a face.

    ¡°I love Mexican food more than I hate Peter,¡± she said, shrugging. The girls giggled for a bit, then spent the rest of the short drive making fun of Cam¡¯s weird cargo-shorts.

    The restaurant was packed; parking was difficult, but eventually the five of them reunited and got in line for a table. Cat found it easiest to just pretend like Peter wasn¡¯t there. She didn¡¯t look at him, didn¡¯t respond to anything he said. She couldn¡¯t even confidently say what color shirt he wore. No one seemed to notice that she was doing overtly, and Peter didn¡¯t bring it up, so she got away with it until they were seated into a large booth. Peter claimed one end, Kelsey scooted in beside him, then Cam and Hannah, leaving Catherine on the opposite of Peter.

    The host that sat them at the table took their drink orders and disappeared quickly, leaving everyone to catch up on their weeks.

    Kelsey went first, describing how obnoxious her econ teacher was, how there was this girl in the class that kept leaving early and then asking her if there was homework. Cam lamented about a cute guy in his bio class that wouldn¡¯t pay attention to his advances. Peter took his turn then, completely stealing Cat¡¯s gaze. She noticed, for the first time, that he wore his regular button-up and slacks. Why was she surprised? She could have guessed that. Maybe she was more surprised he was actively staring her down.

    Peter sighed. ¡°My week was fine until I got a passive-aggressive email about an upcoming deadline for a debate.¡± Cat blinked at him, shaking her head.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t send that.¡±

    ¡°I know. The professor did. To both of us.¡± While she hesitated, he continued, ¡°We have to submit our preliminary arguments.¡±

    ¡°Oh. I didn¡¯t see that yet.¡±

    ¡°Clearly.¡± He rolled his eyes, but before Cat could snap at him, Hannah sat up, bursting with excitement. She slammed her hands on the table to gather everyone¡¯s attention.

    ¡°Did you guys hear about the party tonight that Sigma Sigma is throwing?¡±

    ¡°That the blue house across the street from campus?¡± asked Cam.

    ¡°Yeah! I wanted to go¡­.¡± She scanned the group, starting with Cat, who shook her head.

    ¡°I really shouldn¡¯t. I¡¯ve got work at five thirty tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°Boo. Peter?¡±

    ¡°If I¡¯m not too tired after work.¡± Though he didn¡¯t sound convinced.

    ¡°I¡¯ll go, too!¡± Kelsey jumped after Peter¡¯s response. ¡°I just have to leave early.¡± While Cat looked at her, almost surprised by the sudden outburst, Cam declined in favor of some sort of group meeting tomorrow morning.

    ¡°Awesome! It¡¯s their warm-up party to get ready for Halloween,¡± Hannah explained. But, before she could get too far into it, a brunette waitress with a tray returned with their drinks, and passed them out. Notably, though, without the water that Cat requested.

    "Disculpa!¡± Cat waved to her before she could leave. The short brunette paused, hovering by the table. ¡±Me traes un agua, por favor?¡±

    The girl blinked. ¡°What?¡±

    "Me traes...un agua, por favor?¡± Catherine repeated, a little louder.

    ¡°Um...could you speak English?¡± the waitress asked. Cat blinked in surprise, hesitating to nod. This was the first time she¡¯d ever been to a Mexican restaurant and the waiter or waitress didn¡¯t know at least the basics of Spanish. ¡°Auga¡± and ¡°por favor¡± were pretty well known words. Anyone that lived in the area for at least a year would gather Cat was asking for water.

    The waitress continued, ¡°I don¡¯t speak Spanish yet, it¡¯s my first day. I bet I¡¯ll be a pro in no time, though! They say Spanish is one of the easiest languages to learn.¡± The peppy girl grinned widely, obviously very excited, but every word she said left Cat with a poor taste in her mouth. What the waitress said wasn¡¯t explicitly insulting, but it was just patronizing enough to be obviously rude.

    ¡°Right,¡± Cat said, recoiling a little bit. ¡°Might not be as easy as you think.¡± It was still an additional language to learn. The grammar didn¡¯t directly translate, the alphabet wasn¡¯t even identical.

    ¡°Oh! You do speak English! Why don¡¯t you just speak English?¡± the waitress said with a laugh, pointing with her pen. ¡°Your English is perfect!¡± Oh boy. No. Nooooope.

    Cat forced a smile, then said, ¡±Tienes dientes de un burro.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s that mean?¡±

    ¡°Wishing you luck on the rest of your first day!¡± Cat lied with a big smile. ¡°We¡¯re good here.¡±

    ¡°Oh! Thanks!¡±

    Peter stared at her as the girl walked away, judging, glaring, his piercing green eyes boring straight into her. ¡°I can¡¯t believe you just said that.¡±

    Cameron sat up. ¡°Said what? You understood that?¡±

    Peter glanced at him for just a moment, mashing his lips together in thought. Cat watched his dimples dot his expression before he turned back to Cat and said, ¡°Tienes dientes de un burro, y te pestas como uno tambien.¡±

    Cat¡¯s jaw dropped at his smugness. ¡±No manches! Si yo soy el burro, pues tu eres la cerrote que deje allado."

    ¡°This is somehow worse than when you guys insult each other in English,¡± muttered Kelsey, who deflated behind her giant lemonade.

    ¡°What are you saying?¡± Hannah pointed between the two with her straw.

    ¡°She told the waitress she had donkey teeth,¡± Peter said flatly.

    Hannah let out a quick laugh. ¡°And you said Cat had donkey teeth and¡­?¡±

    Cat interrupted her to answer. ¡°Smelled like one, so I called him a shit on the side of the road. Because that¡¯s what he is. Leftover shit.¡±

    ¡°Do we have to separate you two now?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± the two answered in unison. Though Cat might have been a little faster on the draw, there. Not that it was a competition.

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    Kelsey sighed, seemingly disinterested in scolding anyone, and turned to Peter. ¡°I had no idea you spoke Spanish. Did you take it in high school?¡± Apparently, Cat¡¯s sudden amusement was not as subtle of an expression as she thought. Cam and Hannah were already staring at her, but now Kelsey seemed to think she¡¯d grown two heads.

    ¡°Hey!¡± Cat announced, rolling her shoulders back. ¡°I¡¯ve got a question. What¡¯s his first name?¡± She pointed to Peter, and looked to the rest of their friends in the booth. Peter sighed heavily and looked to the ceiling, as if praying.

    ¡°Is that a serious question?¡± Hannah asked, laughing as she set down her tea. ¡°Peter.¡±

    ¡°Nope!¡± Cat corrected, all while staring at him and waiting for him to respond.

    ¡°Your name¡¯s not Peter?¡± Kelsey¡¯s eyes nearly popped out of her head, and Cam seemed to be deep in thought.

    ¡°It¡¯s Gerard,¡± Cam answered, though quietly. ¡°Right? Peter¡¯s your middle name?¡±

    "Jerard,¡± Peter corrected through a sigh. ¡°The ¡®j¡¯ is like an English ¡®h¡¯.¡±

    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re Spanish!¡± Kelsey recognized.

    ¡°I was--¡±

    Cat jumped up a little, pointing. ¡°Yeah, and he¡¯s a liar!¡±

    ¡°I did not lie--¡±

    ¡°Lying by omission.¡±

    Kelsey interrupted their impending argument. ¡°How did you find this out?¡±

    ¡°Not from hearing my name in roll call,¡± he muttered.

    ¡°Shut up. He eavesdropped on a conversation I had with my mom.¡±

    ¡°I did not eavesdrop! You were standing right next to me!¡±

    ¡°You knew that--¡± Before Cat could continue, Peter pulled his phone out of his pocket, halting all movement at the table. His grimace weighed down his shoulders, and before anyone could ask what was up, he slid out of the booth and said, ¡°Gotta take this.¡± He was already walking away when he answered.

    ¡°That was weird,¡± Kelsey noted.

    Hannah shrugged it off. ¡°So, Cat, if I get in kind of late, I¡¯ll try my best not to wake you up.¡±

    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s okay.¡± She smiled to her roommate. ¡°Do you know when the Halloween party is? I¡¯ll get the next day off. I love Halloween.¡±

    ¡°I noticed you hung those little bats in your window,¡± Cam pointed out in amusement.

    ¡°That¡¯s so cute,¡± said Kelsey. ¡°I think I heard it¡¯s that Friday before. Since Halloween is on, like a Tuesday or something. No costumes or anything, just Halloween-themed games and drinks.¡±

    ¡°That sounds like fun,¡± Cat said, grinning. ¡°Bummer about the costumes. But yeah, I¡¯ll see if I can swap my shifts around.¡±

    ¡°And I¡¯ll let you know if the place ends up sucking tonight,¡± her roomie promised her.

    ¡°I mean¡­.¡± Cat pulled out her phone, shrugging. ¡°I could just see on Talkative.¡± The table laughed at her.

    ¡°I knew you¡¯d love it. How many reactions do you have?¡± Kelsey leaned forward, pulling out her own phone. Cat shrugged.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t keep track.¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s in your profile.¡±

    ¡°Oh. I have a profile?¡± She took out her phone and switched to the app. Kelsey face-palmed, but Cam and Hannah just laughed at her.

    ¡°You dingus. Duh. How else do you message people?¡± Cat¡¯s silence prompted more laughter. ¡°I guess we didn¡¯t really show you. But you click on your name, see your profile, you can edit it, put in one of those little avatars they have--I think they even have a cat one--and see your likes and messages and whatnot.¡±

    Cat kept her lips pursed as she stared at her redheaded friend. ¡°Messages,¡± she repeated. Finally, she glanced down to her phone and clicked on her name in the app, and to her immense horror, saw three unread messages. ¡°Oh.¡±

    ¡°Oh, Cat!¡± Hannah cried through laughter. ¡°You¡¯re such an old lady!¡± While Cam and Kelsey found other ways to make fun of Cat and how much of an ¡°old lady¡± she was, from typing super slow and not knowing how phones worked, she clicked on the unread messages.

    One was a welcome message from Talkative, with hyperlinks to a forum for technical help (She¡¯d have to check that out later), one was an emoji of an eggplant from a user named PlayaHatinGame, and the final one, which made her heart skip a beat, was from PumpkinKing.

    She clicked on it, all the while ignoring the banshee-like laughter from her friends. It read, ¡°PandaSex69 ruins everything. Except, well, Panda populations.¡± Ha!

    Oh, good lord. This message was from Monday? From when she first got the app? Cat sighed.

    ¡°Alright, I¡¯ma go pee before they take our order. If they take it before I¡¯m back, I¡¯ll just have the carne asada with rice and refried beans.¡± She slid from her spot in the booth, and glanced back to Hannah, who repeated her order: ¡°Carne, rice, beans.¡±

    Then, after orienting herself to the glowing ¡°Banos¡± sign, she made her way in that direction. Slowly, though, because right underneath that sign was a tall blond gesturing in anger to a wall. Peter¡¯s phone call wasn¡¯t going well, obviously.

    He pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers, eyes shut. ¡°Intention should matter!¡± Cat lifted her feet less on her approach to prevent her flip flops from slapping. Peter spun away from her to start to pace one direction, and she took this opportunity to dash into the women¡¯s restroom without being seen. It was a swinging door, so she was able to go inside and still hear Peter yell at whomever it was on the phone.

    ¡°No, just arrange--let me talk to him. Just a ten-minute conversation. You can arrange that, right?¡± Cat leaned against the wall of the women¡¯s restroom. The two stalls were unoccupied, she was the only one here, but her curiosity got the best of her. Instead of moving to do what she came here for, she remained rooted by the door hinges to listen. One of the hanging lights flickered, as if scolding her. She fought the urge to glare at it. ¡°Fine, you can be there, Dad¡¯s lawyer can be there. Whatever, I don¡¯t care. I haven¡¯t seen Oscar in a year! He can¡¯t--he¡¯s holding him hostage. He can¡¯t disinherit him for reaching out to me, but he¡¯s trying. That¡¯s--what, is that kidnapping or something? Extortion?¡±

    Woah, was this the legal stuff that Cam was referring to? Did Peter have a kid? Cat, for a very brief moment, considered that maybe she shouldn¡¯t have tried so eagerly to listen in. The light over the sink winked at her.

    ¡°Come on, it¡¯s his birthday tomorrow. A phone call¡­. Can you put in the request? With all the information out there? I mean, information like--you can¡¯t disinherit a minor. Oscar¡¯s side is safe for at least another year--¡± Like pieces of a puzzle, the picture started to get a little clearer. Someone was being held back from Peter for threat of...disinheritance? Must be nice to have an inheritance to fight over. And if this Oscar was a minor for just another year, he must have been a brother. ¡°Yes, just a...formal request¡­. Yes¡­.¡± Peter sighed. ¡°Yes, I understand that. Look, I¡¯m getting along fine. It¡¯s not about that anymore¡­. No, I¡¯ve been getting along just fine on my own¡­. If you can make the argument that I can see--or even just talk to--my brother on his birthday, you can strengthen your argument for the definition of a parent¡­. Christ, fine, half-brother.¡±

    Cat caught sight of her own reflection in the mirror over the sink and frowned to herself. The pale yellow lighting gave her weird shadows on her face, shadows that highlighted the twinge of shame in her expression. She was so mad for Peter eavesdropping, and here she was¡­. She shoved away from the wall to head to the stall to take care of her own business, but her mind still focused heavily on what she¡¯d overheard. Cam¡¯s advice, sage as always, rang in her ears. Peter used to have money. He used to think he was Latino, too. He used to have a little brother he could talk to whenever he wanted. But something last year ended everything, took away his security, took away his family¡­.

    Well. Regardless of all his hardship, it didn¡¯t excuse him from being an absolute prick all the time, Cat decided. So instead of letting herself dive into what ifs and driving herself mad with theories, she tucked away this new information about Peter into the very dark recesses of her mind and opted to dive back into Talkative, where she replied to PumpkinKing.

    Pumpkin, as she started to think of him in her mind, had replied by the time Kelsey drove her, Hannah, and Cam back to campus after lunch. And from there sprouted a bizarre mixture of lighthearted insults with a slight peppering of digging for information. It turned out Pumpkin identified as a guy who thought that ¡°InsultCatapult¡± was clever, and he was just interested in striking conversation, and looking for inspiration on how to sneak a roast of PandaSex69 in his next posting of Roast My Subject. There seemed to be a sort of rivalry going on that she was more than happy to fuel, especially with the amount of laughing emojis roasting both of them in the thread got her.

    Cat struggled to get any homework done, and opted to go to bed early once Hannah had dolled up and left for the party around nine. Despite being tired, she kept checking her phone for replies and reactions to her latest posts. Good lord, how did people balance this sort of thing? Though the influx of laughing emojis that continued to add to her profile gave her this odd, satisfying burn, she couldn¡¯t help but think that this was all a terrible addiction she should cut before it got too bad.

    Thankfully, PupmkinKing had a regular sleep schedule, it seemed, and stopped replying at around ten, thus allowing Cat to set her phone down on her nightstand for longer than five minutes at a time. And, eventually, she fell asleep.

    But not for long.

    First it was giggling that pulled her out of her dreams. Then it was the sound of the door opening, and the loudest ¡°Shhh!¡± to ever grace her ears. Hannah was back. Drunk. But, she wasn¡¯t crying, like she¡¯d claimed would be the case. Cat sighed and pulled her pillow over her head, mostly to try and block out the noise.

    ¡°Use your legs!¡± whispered whomever accompanied Hannah. Oh, god. Hannah wasn¡¯t going to try and hook up with someone while she was right there, was she? To mitigate the risk, Cat took her pillow off her face and turned to her roommate. The intruders were blissfully unaware of her presence.

    Hannah¡¯s hair was completely covering her face, which may have been the reason why she completely leaned on Peter of all people, who quietly laughed at her and shoved her at the bed.

    ¡°I--hic!--I need help,¡± Hannah mumbled. She reached out with her free arm to eventually grasp her mattress. Thankfully, Peter slipped out from under her other arm, though at first a little too fast, and had to run into Hannah¡¯s desk chair for support to stop from toppling over. It looked like he was trying to leave. Or maybe he was just that drunk and couldn¡¯t figure out which way was forward.

    ¡°Hang out for a bit?¡± Hannah whispered to him. She finally threw her hair to one side by raking her fingers through her locks, obviously attempting to tame her hair in some sort of smooth fashion. Hang out, Cat thought sarcastically. She rolled her eyes at the way Hannah leaned against her bed, now in some sort of pinup pose. Peter steadied himself.

    ¡°Um--I should go.¡± He gestured behind himself to the open door, where the light from the hallway creeped in just enough to give Cat far too much sight on this scene. Peter¡¯s shirt was partially unbuttoned, completely untucked from his slacks. Hannah¡¯s doing. But, it looked like he wasn¡¯t into it, so maybe--

    ¡°Shh!¡± Hannah was successfully quiet at hushing him this time, and took a step closer. Her hand grabbed forward, clutching his crisp, white collar. ¡°Just for a little bit. I¡¯m not tryin¡¯ uh date you or anythin¡¯.¡±

    Cat remained very still in her bed, hoping this would resolve itself before she had to lob her pillow across the room.

    ¡°I¡¯m literally seeing one of your friends,¡± Peter whispered. Cat¡¯s eyebrows shot up as she watched him pull her hand off of his shirt. Peter was seeing someone? Who?

    ¡°She¡¯s not tryin¡¯ to be with you either,¡± Hannah slurred. ¡°You got too much going on. C¡¯mon, just for a little bit¡­.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Ouch. Seemed to be news to him.

    Hannah hiccuped again. ¡°She said ya got stuffs or whatever. Baggage. S¡¯m¡¯thing about can¡¯t fill cups with an empty pitcher. And you¡¯re all empty.¡±

    "Empty?¡± He didn¡¯t sound insulted, but she could see the way his shoulders dropped, the way his brows furrowed. ¡°She said--she told you¡­?¡±

    ¡°That you¡¯re great where it counts.¡± Again Hannah reached forward to him, but this time instead of stopping her, Peter took a full step backward. ¡°Man, you didn¡¯t think--hic!-- that was going somewhere¡­? Shit¡­.¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡± Cat could hardly hear him, but from Hannah¡¯s sudden panic, it was enough to make Cat flinch. ¡°I¡¯ma...I¡¯m gunna go.¡±

    ¡°Shiiiiiit.¡± Hannah slammed her head onto her bed, and Peter, with a bit more of a steady step, shuffled his way out of their room and shut the door.

    Yikes¡­.

 Chapter 14

    Cat¡¯s stomach twisted in knots for most of her Monday morning shift at Jittery Joe¡¯s. Hannah claimed that she didn¡¯t remember what she said to Peter the other night, and seemed to have no memory of anything negative. But if she remembered what she said, how she said it, Cat had no doubt that her roommate would be a puddle of guilt. Despite her hangover, Hannah seemed to have had a great time, enthusiastically describing the trials of different themed drinks that the frat introduced, a hint to a couple of games that they made up.

    Normally, there¡¯d be nothing else to think about. Sure, there was a midterm for Human Sexuality she should have been preparing for. Sure, her family kept sending her Halloween decoration ideas and pictures for how the house was turning out this year. That all should have been very exciting. But Hannah¡¯s potentially crushed expression kept popping into Cat¡¯s mind. Peter¡¯s dimples setting in his deep frown, his hunched posture. Hannah was a fierce protector of her friends. She wouldn¡¯t ever intentionally hurt them. What if Peter brought up what she said?

    Monday morning, Cat recited a few things to say in her mind before Peter showed up. They had their ritual: he always showed up at the exact, same time for the exact, same order, and she always had it ready for him when he walked in, and he¡¯d just walk to the front of the line, drop exact cash, and pick up his coffee and go on his way. Jeffrey, her coworker, said his blood pressure had remained at stable levels since they started this silent agreement.

    But this morning, she purposefully didn¡¯t prepare Peter¡¯s coffee. And he stood in line, seemingly confused. When he was next, Cat already wrote his name and order on the cup, and he already had his change ready.

    ¡°Am I early?¡± he asked when he stepped up. Cat shook her head.

    Wasting no time, she said, ¡°About what Hannah said when you brought her back the other night¡­.¡±

    ¡°Oh--oh--okay.¡± She watched his expression go from confused, to shocked, to something that could only be described as bracing for impact. He probably thought she was going to add onto it. If it was anyone other than Hannah that said it, she would have. But this was for Hannah.

    ¡°Hannah doesn¡¯t remember saying it, and I know she didn¡¯t mean it. So if you could just never bring it up¡­.¡±

    Peter must have left his usual quick-wittedness in his other slacks. ¡°I--what?¡± He held his money in his hand, blinking. She took the bills from him to put them in the register, and though Jeffery had the coffee maker going, she didn¡¯t raise her voice.

    ¡°When she basically said no one would date you because you¡¯ve got too much baggage. She didn¡¯t mean it.¡± What if he didn¡¯t remember it, either? But he didn¡¯t look that drunk. Peter just took his time reacting.

    ¡°Oh,¡± was all he said. His eyes showed hints of recognition, but his thoughts were moving slowly. It was almost frustrating. She was trying to apologize, here! He needed to keep up. There were other people in line.

    ¡°I mean as far as whatever you¡¯re doing with whomever, I can¡¯t speak for that. But she didn¡¯t mean it the way it came out and she doesn¡¯t remember saying it. She wouldn¡¯t have said anything, if she knew that it bugged you.¡± Jeffrey hardly set down the coffee before Cat snatched it up to hand it to Peter. ¡°So...she would say sorry if she remembered.¡±

    He took it, his eyes slow to finally look up at her. ¡°I mean, she isn¡¯t--I don¡¯t think she¡¯s wrong about it.¡± Ugh. She didn¡¯t start this up to sit there and ease his mind about his eligibility. She didn¡¯t care about it. Who cared about baggage? Everyone had their own set. Cat rolled her eyes.

    ¡°You¡¯re not special,¡± she blurted. ¡°Everyone¡¯s got problems. Your weird blend doesn¡¯t make you any more or less date-able or whatever. It¡¯s just a matter of who¡¯s willing to carry it.¡± She wasn¡¯t trying to make him feel better, but the slight smile that edged its way onto his lips made her scowl, so she continued, ¡°Still, no one but an absolute idiot would go after you. But there. Just don¡¯t bring this up to Hannah.¡± To encourage him to leave, she grabbed for her sharpie and a cup, but Peter hesitated.

    ¡°You¡¯re hard to read sometimes, Cat,¡± he said without looking up.

    ¡°Then maybe you should get glasses, you blind fuck.¡± And, completely ignoring his laughter, and the subsequent pang of pride in her stomach, waved for the next customer in line.

    <hr>

    To Cat¡¯s immense relief, her roommate¡¯s great mood remained for the rest of the week. Peter seemed contented to keep his version of Saturday night to himself, and he kept himself scarce at the beginning of the week. At first Cat thought he was just avoiding Hannah, but then when he rejoined everyone on Wednesday, Kelsey claimed to be coming down with something and left lunch early, then skipped all their planned meals for the rest of the week. Maybe something was just going around.

    Friday started off far too early, for Cat¡¯s taste. Switching shifts with Jeffrey so she could go to the Halloween party was a worthy sacrifice, though being at work by five-thirty in the morning when she had a quiz that night in Communications was not her favorite thing.

    Posting a new thread in Talkative, Demon Teachers, granted her over a thousand laughing reactions with her first post in the thread: ¡°Scheduling quizzes on a night reserved for Halloween parties.¡± Dozens of random other people lamented with the exact same issue, which somehow twisted the thread into being proof that teachers were literal demons, a conspiracy theory led by none other than PumpkinKing, himself. It maybe wouldn¡¯t have gotten so out of hand if PandaSex69 didn¡¯t post, ¡°Halloween is just like every other holiday. So what if there¡¯s a quiz?¡± But, the naive panda enthusiast became a martyr for his cause when Pumpkin started to target him, specifically, for being a ¡°sleeper agent¡± for the demon teachers.

    Cat frowned at the amount of laughing emojis that Pumpkin got from her thread.

    ¡°You stole my reactions,¡± she messaged him that night while she was putting on makeup for the party. Hannah was spewing some makeup tips in the background like she was a YouTuber. Cat already knew them, but let her explain since she was so happy to talk about the perfect ¡°Cat eye¡± and how hilarious it was that her name made a pun for so many beauty terms.

    She was caught when she laughed at Pumpkin¡¯s response: ¡°Be funnier.¡± But Hannah didn¡¯t mind.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to be anonymous on there, you know,¡± her roommate said with her face still shoved up to her closet mirror, fingers working delicately on her eyeliner. ¡°You can meet people on there, too. Friends and...not friends. I mean, it¡¯s local, so whoever it is has to be within like fifteen miles of the city they registered in.¡± Cat shrugged, then put her phone in her cross-body purse to physically stop herself from replying.

    ¡°Yeah, this is fun, though. There¡¯s less pressure.¡±

    ¡°Truer words,¡± Hannah agreed through laughter.

    ¡°So is Kelsey coming, too? Or are we meeting her there?¡±

    ¡°Nah, she said she isn¡¯t feeling up for it.¡± Hannah¡¯s tone was weird about it, but Cat didn¡¯t read too much into it and instead began to brush through her hair, now that she was satisfied with her makeup. ¡°You wearing that? It¡¯s cute.¡± Hannah popped the lid onto her eyeliner and stepped away from the mirror, gesturing to her roomie.

    Cat spun the skirt of her dress a little. It was a very flowy, black dress, with red buttons to her waistline, where the pleats flared out. She grinned.

    ¡°Yeah, I like it.¡±

    ¡°Just don¡¯t sit down or you¡¯ll give a show,¡± Hannah said with a laugh. ¡°You always have the cutest dresses.¡±

    ¡°Harder to lose a dress than a shirt, I¡¯m hoping,¡± said Cat, referencing the first party of the year. The girls howled in laughter, and after final checks and touch-ups, started on their way to the party.

    This was it: her first frat party. It was literally across the street from the campus, though it didn¡¯t look like the way parties did in the movies. The front yard was tame, the bushes trimmed, no windows broken in. Maybe Fraternity Row had an HOA.

    Once the front door opened, though, music poured out, groups of people huddled to different tables, and Cat spotted a large, open door to the back yard. That¡¯s where the kegs were.

    ¡°Hey, Hannah!¡± the taller guy standing post at the door called. She granted him a quick side-hug. ¡°Who¡¯s your friend? Is she cool?¡±

    ¡°Roomie! She¡¯s cool!¡± Hannah shouted, then waved for Cat to hurry inside to shut the door. The nighttime breeze was crisp against their skin, and the sudden burst of hot, sweaty air nearly stopped her heart. Hannah pulled her out of the way for more people to come inside, toward the kitchen where several mixed drinks in home-made bottles were mixed with cute Halloween labels.

    ¡°I¡¯ve gotta leave early so I can be up for a group meeting tomorrow,¡± Hannah explained as she reached for a couple bottles to hand one to her roomie, ¡°but Cam and Peter should be here, so you don¡¯t have to walk home alone. And I¡¯ll let you know when I¡¯m headed out, in case you want to bounce early.¡±

    The girls toasted to one another and opened their specialty drinks to take their first sip.

    ¡°Oh!¡± Cat sounded. Cinnamon-y. She glanced to the label: Autumn Sampler. ¡°What¡¯s in this?¡± Hannah pondered hers, smacking her lips.

    ¡°I think it¡¯s probably just Angry Orchard and Fireball or something. It doesn¡¯t quite taste like Fireball, though¡­. Maybe Apple Pie Moonshine?¡±

    "Moonshine?¡± Cat echoed with wide eyes. ¡°Like, prohibition, Moonshine?¡± Hannah waved a hand.

    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    ¡°Come on, let¡¯s find a game to play. I¡¯m sure the guys will catch up later.¡±

    This was, possibly objectively, the best Halloween party Cat had ever been to. The snacks were themed, color-coded with gluten-free options for the different frosted cookies. There were sets of themed drinks spread out to different tables and spots on the floor for people to easily grab. Then, of course, there was this weird plastic crate that Hannah told her to stay away from, full of something called ¡°Jungle Juice.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s in Jungle Juice?¡± Cat asked as they made their way to a starting game of King¡¯s Cup.

    ¡°Everything delicious and every bad choice. I lost all my virginities from Jungle Juice.¡± Cat opted not to ask any more questions about it in favor to learn more about King¡¯s Cup. It turned out that Peter and Cam were already there, already sweaty, red-faced, and laughing at things that weren¡¯t necessarily funny because they had won the latest game of Beer Pong. Peter didn¡¯t have work today, but he still wore a pale blue button-up and jeans. Maybe girls weren¡¯t the only ones that tried to look a little better when it came to parties. And she¡¯d be lying if she said every guy didn¡¯t look better in button-ups. Especially when they pushed the sleeves up to their elbows when they got too warm.

    Learning the rules to a drinking game was already a risky move, especially since the more she drank, the less she remembered each rule related to each card. But she wasn¡¯t going to black out tonight. After being absolutely terrible at King¡¯s Cup, Cat switched to water and carbs, stealing an entire plate of cookies for the group of people at the table she was at.

    To her immense surprise, a familiar face joined the group.

    ¡°Oh, hey!¡± Cat sounded, gesturing to the newbie. Dressed in a plain tee and jeans was a third of her rescue team from when she hit her head. ¡°Nate, right?¡±

    ¡°Hey!¡± Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome waved to her, and walked around Peter and Cam to stand beside her. ¡°Glad to see you¡¯re still alive. How¡¯s your head?¡±

    ¡°Healed, thank you.¡± Her cheeks were as warm as the arm he wrapped around her in a weirdly-forced half-hug. She didn¡¯t say anything, just took another swig of her water bottle. Hannah nudged her under the table.

    ¡°Glad to hear it,¡± Nate continued with a wide grin. ¡°What are we playing?¡± He gestured to the deck of cards in the middle of the table, and Cam shrugged.

    ¡°Haven¡¯t decided yet. Taking a carb break. Speaking of which¡­.¡± And, as gracefully as Six Beers Cam could be, sloppily leaned over the table to snatch an oatmeal raisin in the shape of a ghost from the plate Cat just set down.

    ¡°No hugging the porcelain throne tonight for you guys. So does that mean I can¡¯t get you a drink?¡± Nate now looked Cat square-on. His oh-so subtle version of hitting on her was almost too much. Thankfully, she was already flushed from the drinks she had during King¡¯s Cup.

    ¡°You can, I just won¡¯t drink it yet,¡± Cat said, offering him a small laugh. But the stares of her tablemates were heavy. ¡°So--um, you play water polo with Cam and Peter?¡± A loud snort from Cam made her jump.

    With a full mouth, he pointed to Nate and said, ¡°Peter and I play Water Polo. Nate sits by a net for an hour.¡±

    ¡°I do not just sit there--!¡±

    Hannah leaned in as she started to giggle. ¡°Now you¡¯ve done it.¡± The boys started to bicker about their respective positions in a game that Cat had literally never taken the time to watch, so the girls instead laughed at them in a huddle until Peter¡¯s loud voice broke through.

    ¡°Look, you¡¯ve just started talking about how little you do, and the girls are already bored!¡± The group laughed, even the butt of the joke. For a brief moment, Cat felt an odd twinge in her stomach. Peter usually only insulted her, but he extended this to Nate. It was a little strange to be in his presence and not be the target--uncomfortable, even. What was that about? It wasn¡¯t like she enjoyed being taunted.

    Nate moved his hand, pulling her out of her thoughts, and placed it on her shoulder.

    ¡°If you¡¯re bored, let¡¯s go do something,¡± he urged. ¡°They¡¯ve got good music in the backyard. Wanna go dance?¡± It was a little warm inside. Cat looked up to him, her stomach flopping with uncertainty. He was so bold. She wasn¡¯t entirely sure how to handle that.

    ¡°Break¡¯s over--¡± Peter announced, rising from his chair. ¡°Shots?¡±

    ¡°Oooh, yeah!¡± called Hannah as she joined him. ¡°I can do a shot or two before I¡¯ve gotta get going.¡± Well, that would certainly help her make decisions. And Nate seemed like the kind of guy that could joke around, so maybe it was worth exploring if she liked him or not. Plus, Peter didn¡¯t like him. That was only an added plus.

    The party only grew sloppier as time went on. It took a little while to get to the kitchen and find enough shot glasses; Cat and Hannah had to share. Not too long after taking her second helping, Hannah bade everyone good night, gave hugs, and excused herself. With their protective shield now gone, and Peter and Cam made themselves scarce right after. Cat wasn¡¯t entirely certain if it was to give her and Nate privacy, though now as she looked through the doorway to the backyard, she realized it probably had a lot more to do with the tall brunette that hung on Peter like life support.

    ¡°You try the Jungle Juice yet?¡± Nate shouted to her ear. She shook her head.

    ¡°What¡¯s in it?¡±

    ¡°Try it and see if you like it. I was here when they started making it.¡± Cat clutched the Spooky Spritzer he¡¯d gotten her, some sort of soda-tequila mix in a mason jar with a little ghost on it, and let him pull her to the plastic tub. After filling a solo cup with the plastic ladle, he handed it to her.

    ¡°What¡¯s in it?¡± she asked again as she sniffed it. Good lord, that was sweet.

    ¡°It¡¯s mostly fruit juice. Fruit punch, pineapple, apple juice--those are all the main ingredients. You¡¯re not diabetic, are you?¡± Cat laughed.

    ¡°No, I¡¯m not.¡± And, slowly, she tipped the cup to her lips to take a sip. She hesitated, her brows furrowing. ¡°There¡¯s alcohol in this?¡± No wonder why Hannah had such a tough time with it. This was delicious, without a hint of the bite that liquor normally held.

    ¡°Shit tons.¡± Nate poured himself a full cup, smiling as he took his first sip. ¡°And I saw them dump the leftover Apple Pie Moonshine in here after they made the themed drinks.¡± Cat coughed on her second taste. Okay. This was definitely something to drink very slowly.

    ¡°It¡¯s diluted a little, though, right?¡± she guessed, gesturing to the massive tub. ¡°There¡¯s just so much of it.¡±

    ¡°Oh, yeah, good point. Did you like it?¡± Cat nodded, but gestured with her Spooky Spritzer.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got some work to do.¡± And despite the water and carbs she had earlier, the shot she had with everyone was starting to creep up.

    ¡°Want to race?¡± He gestured with his solo cup. Cat laughed at him.

    ¡°No, that¡¯s fine. I¡¯ll--¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s okay to be a loser.¡± He said it with such pity, and a pout that made her eyes go wide. As if!

    ¡°I¡¯m not a loser! I¡¯m pacing myself!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve got two drinks in your hands. Doesn¡¯t look like it.¡± As he said it, she looked down at her cups and had to agree with a laugh. ¡°Look, I bet I can drink two of these before you even finish your mason jar.¡± Okay, he was definitely just trying to get her drunk faster. Again, she wasn¡¯t entirely certain how to feel about it. For now, things were fine. She did feel a little out-of-place, being the only one with two drinks in her hands. People must have thought she was an alcoholic.

    ¡°What are we betting?¡± she decided on a whim. Nate was facing away, already pouring himself a second drink, but she could tell by the way his shoulders shook that he was laughing. He turned to her, setting his backup cup on the table beside the ladle.

    ¡°Whatever you want.¡± Though his gaze was pretty clear with what he was thinking about, his smile crooked and eyes twinkling.

    ¡°And you¡­?¡± she prompted. If he was classy about his response, maybe she¡¯d play along. But if he was a creep¡­.

    ¡°Ladies first.¡± He gestured innocently in front of them. Well. Maybe it was his way of estimating what was alright with her. Cat bit her lip for a moment, and turned around to check out the party. She couldn¡¯t see Cam anywhere all of a sudden. Maybe he found his own brunette to hang off of him. Where was her safety net? Probably best to play it safe.

    ¡°Um, okay. If I win, I want you to--¡± She shrugged, decided last-minute to pull back a little. ¡°If I win, I want you to try and sing karaoke over the music until you get booed off of the microphone.¡± Nate clearly wasn¡¯t expecting a response like that, and gave her a genuine laugh.

    ¡°You want me to get kicked out of the party!¡± he said. ¡°Alright, fine. And if I win, I want a kiss.¡±

    Cat pursed her lips. Another test was needed. ¡°A quick kiss,¡± she offered.

    Nate put a hand over his heart. ¡°I¡¯d be honored.¡± God, he was so cheesy. But, from the heat of the room and the burning from the alcohol, she couldn¡¯t tell whether or not she was into it. ¡°Ready?¡± He held his cup to her lips, and she mirrored him with her mason jar--but he was already drinking! Coughing away her surprise, she tried to pour her drink down her throat like ice water on a hot day, but she was barely halfway through when he dropped his first plastic cup and grabbed for his other.

    A bit of her drink trickled from the corner of her mouth as she struggled to keep up, but it was clear who the winner was. After a full ten seconds, Cat gasped for air and set her empty mason jar on the table. Ugh, now her stomach was so full, she could feel it slosh with every movement.

    ¡°Those--those cups are way smaller than a mason jar,¡± she said, panting through her laughter. Nate laughed with her, then reached for her hand.

    ¡°Want to dance?¡± Oh! Maybe he sensed she wasn¡¯t fully into the idea of a kiss. That was gentlemanly. Cat nodded. Smiling, Nate grabbed the ladle for the Jungle Juice and began to fill his cup again. God, he had a stomach of steel. ¡°Here.¡± He gestured to her solo cup. ¡°Top you off so we don¡¯t have to stop.¡±

    Cat shrugged and let him put another ladle-full in her cup, silently promising herself to make it last the entire rest of the night, and let him lead her to the backyard toward the thumping music, the bass reverberating down to her bones. The night air was shocking against her face. Desert nights were always so unpredictable. Just because it was eighty degrees this afternoon didn¡¯t mean it wouldn¡¯t get to freezing temperatures tonight.

    Still no sign of Cam. Maybe he was back inside. But Cat hesitated near the edge of the mass of dancing bodies, keeping Peter and his dance partner in view. Just from the walk from inside to out here, she could feel the lightheadedness creep into her brain. Maybe being within eyeshot of Peter was the best she could do for a safety net right now. And, well, so far Nate was trustworthy. So when he gently placed a hand on her hip to sway to the beat with her, Cat silently scolded herself for being paranoid.

    Nate was a perfect gentleman. He kept his hands where she allowed them, and didn¡¯t even try to cash in his prize. Over the next few songs, she allowed him to slowly close in until he completely grinded against her. This might have been too much encouragement, though, because now he lowered his lips to her ear, his breath hot and his words slurring.

    ¡°Sooo ¡¯bout that kiss¡­.¡± Well, he asked, at least. He could have just planted one on her. That¡¯s how guys usually did it, anyway.

    Cat giggled and brought her drink to her lips to take a sip, and looked up at him through her lashes. Okay, so maybe she was starting to feel alright with this.

    ¡°Whata-bout it?¡± she challenged through her laughter. But, when she looked up at him, to try and play a little more, he silenced her with his lips. Despite the slight edge of disappointment to her stomach, Cat sighed and let him press against her. While one arm hooked around her, still full with his drink, the hand that held her hip slid to the small of her back, to pull her closer. Really, he didn¡¯t notice she wasn¡¯t reciprocating? She told him a quick kiss. When his hand started to travel further south, she made a split-second decision, and tipped her cup to spill her drink over the back of his tee shirt.

    It took a second of the wet slapping of the liquid on the grass before Nate jumped, yelping as he sat up. The sudden absence of his arms made her stumble, but she straightened herself up, giggling.

    ¡°Sorry!¡± she lied. She let herself sway more than she needed to play off that she was drunker than she actually was, and Nate smiled at her.

    ¡°Hey, shh--totally worth it. I¡¯ll be right back.¡± And, with her dance partner now out of the picture, Cat straightened herself up and glanced around. Maybe she just wasn¡¯t into him. He was nice enough, but he didn¡¯t stoke any strong emotions from her. And after that last move, her initial attraction for him started to slip away quickly.

    ¡°O-eh!¡± sounded a familiar voice next to her. Cam stumbled with an empty shot glass in his hand, gesturing to her as he laughed. ¡°I came to save you, but you had that handled.¡± Cat eyed his glass and laughed.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you came right over.¡±

    ¡°I did! I can walk and drink! Look!¡± As if to demonstrate, he took a step around her and raised his shot glass to his lips. ¡°Oh, fuck. It¡¯s gone.¡± Cat had to hold onto his arm to laugh at him, and nearly spilled the last half of her drink on herself.

    ¡°Come on,¡± she decided with a grin. ¡°Let¡¯s get a refill.¡±

 Chapter 15

    God, she told herself she wasn¡¯t going to get herself distracted with Cam again. But did this count? As she sat on his bed, she began to unbutton her dress from the top of her u-neck. Drunken encounters didn¡¯t count, she decided. Besides, everyone had needs. And Nate just sort of got her in the mood for something to happen, and Cam was far easier to be around than someone new who couldn¡¯t handle his liquor.

    It was like Deja Vu from before. Cat insisted she should get back to the dorms, and Cam completely miss-read it to mean that they should both go back to the dorms. And, well, by the time he kissed her, she¡¯d already agreed it was a good idea. Even if maybe it wasn¡¯t. It was nice to feel something when he kissed her, though, so she was easily convinced.

    Now here she was, waiting for Cam to return, fumbling with her dress on his bed, trying to convince herself this was the last time.

    Cat unbuttoned her dress to the point where her bra finally poked through from her open neckline. She should stop there, just in case he came back and changed his mind. But good lord, if he took too much longer¡­.

    The sound of keys jingling nearly made her jump out of her skin. Instead, she caught herself from slipping off the bed and lay back, arching her back enough so that one strap dropped just a little bit, baring her shoulder as she leaned on his unmade sheets. Was this a good view? Sexy enough? Was she trying too hard?

    But when the door open, she could only groan.

    ¡°Noooo,¡± she cried, shutting her eyes. Peter, why?

    ¡°Why are--are you here?¡± Well, he seemed to be just as sound of mind as she was. Which meant that he wasn¡¯t. He could hardly open the door the correct way, and his key stayed inside the knob when he finally managed to push it open, as if he forgot which way the door went. His normally kempt hair looked as if someone took a fistfull of it, then didn¡¯t smooth it back, which was never something Sober Peter would allow. She hated to admit it, but it wasn¡¯t a bad look for him. Fit his jawline better than his usual perfect hair style. And with those rolled-up sleeves¡­.

    Cat sighed and let herself fall back against Cam¡¯s bed. She nearly hit her head on the wall, but missed by inches. Thank goodness. She couldn¡¯t handle another head injury. Especially this drunk.

    ¡°Getoutam--¡± Peter hiccuped. ¡°This is my room!¡± Pft! Cam¡¯s room. Cat sat up to point at him, though the movement made her sway. She took a moment to recover. God, was that the tequila, the vodka, the moonshine, or whatever else was put in that Jungle Juice?

    ¡°Hardly!¡± she finally answered, dismissing the fleeting worries of cirrhosis. ¡°Cam¡¯s just takin¡¯ a piss. Then--¡± Her hand flew to her mouth to cover her burp, but thankfully Peter was too busy complaining to notice.

    ¡°I¡¯m too drunk for this, go to your room--!¡± As he stumbled, stepping on his own feet, to his bed, Peter fumbled against his desk chair before he caught himself on his bed frame. Good lord, at least she could walk. Sort of. She made it here without falling, and she liked to think she would have even if she didn¡¯t lean on Cam the whole way here.

    ¡°No, Hannah¡¯s sleeping! She has a--something or other. Meeting or something. The thing with the teacher stuff.¡± Plus, she gave Cam all her latex-free condoms, expecting their rendezvous from earlier in the year to last longer. She knew he still had some, tucked away in his sock drawer.

    Peter twisted to face his bed, his breathing hard as he oriented himself. Cat, for a brief moment, wondered if she was sitting up, or if she suddenly went upside-down, because it certainly felt that way. But when her feet touched the ground, her head jerked, reminding her where she was. Feet on the ground, hands on the mattress to steady herself. Cam. She was just waiting for him to get back from the bathroom. She¡¯d already un-did the hard buttons, and everything else was easy access, if Cam ended up being too fucked up to do it himself. Maybe re-creating that encounter from Hannah¡¯s party at the beginning of the year would reverse whatever effect that was put on her, would release the pressure she felt even now.

    She just needed that feeling to go away. Every day it grew, and it seemed to only get worse as time went on. For an insane moment, she briefly considered Peter as a suitable alternative if Cam wasn¡¯t able to help her. But that was crazy.

    She shut her eyes for a moment to orient herself. ¡°Cam¡¯s gunna--gunna be right back. You should go to one of your whatevers,¡± Cat muttered as she gestured to the door. ¡°Where¡¯s that girl? Go with her.¡± Peter finally seemed to be able to turn around, though he didn¡¯t look any more compliant.

    ¡°I don¡¯t wanna--I¡¯m too drunk to sleep in the hallway, please--go to your room or something. Come on¡­.¡± She laughed too loud, and watched as he swayed in place.

    ¡°And I¡¯m not drunk enough to fuck in front of an audience! Leave!¡± Though as she said it, and moved a hand to pull her dress down to its proper place, Peter¡¯s eyes finally fell on her, as if realizing who she was for the first time since he burst into the room and left his keys in the door. He stared at her legs, bare, hardly being covered by the hem of the dress she just pulled down. Cat¡¯s heart skipped a beat when her bra strap fell from her shoulder. She hadn¡¯t realized that when she slid off the bed, that she didn¡¯t take most of her outfit with her. Was he staring at her because he was too drunk to notice who he was staring at, or was he staring because she just nearly flashed him?

    ¡°What?¡± he asked finally. Oh, he was smashed. Cat giggled, pointing to make fun of him--but that was as far as she got. He seemed to at least understand that she was insulting him without words, and frowned.

    ¡°Noooo,¡± the tall blond started again. ¡°Go to your room. Come on¡­..¡±

    ¡°No, Hannah¡¯s sleeping!¡±

    ¡°Go somewhere else¡­.¡± Maybe if Cat hadn¡¯t also been whining like a child at that moment, she might have found Peter¡¯s voice annoying. But for whatever reason, part of her didn¡¯t mind this, the arguing, the whining. It was entertaining, released a little bit of the tension that crept into her throat. Staring at him from just a few feet away, though both of them gripped their respective mattresses for support. Neither were capable of standing up on their own.

    ¡°You go somewhere else,¡± she spat. ¡°Cam¡¯s on his way back.¡±

    ¡°Where, like your room?¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡± Wait, what did he mean by that? And as she asked, Peter started to smile, his stupid, smug, dimply smile that simultaneously lit her stomach on fire and made her throat tight.

    ¡°That¡¯s vacant, right? Okay. Sure. I¡¯ll go somewhere else.¡±

    ¡°Wait, that¡¯s not¡­.¡± She didn¡¯t like what he was insinuating. ¡°You can¡¯t go there! Hannah¡¯s sleeping.¡±

    Peter finally pushed himself off of his mattress, propelling him to the center of the room. He took a moment to steady himself. ¡°Then I¡¯ll wake her up.¡± Though he took his time standing up straight, his shirt holding onto the wrinkles his bed created. What was that, linen? How did he manage to keep it all unwrinkled until now? ¡°She¡¯s been trying to get with me for a while now.¡±

    ¡°What--you--she has not!¡± Cat lied. She knew as she said it that it wasn¡¯t true. But this was not happening on her watch. ¡°You¡¯re not going to my room--you¡¯re not fucking my roommate!"

    Peter snorted as he sorted his shirt out, pulling it down to try and straighten it. ¡°Why do you get a say in that?¡±

    ¡°¡¯Cause she doesn¡¯t want you!¡± As she said it, flashes of the other night, when Hannah gripped for Peter¡¯s collar, swayed against him and invited him to stay flooded Cat¡¯s mind.

    ¡°Hah!¡± Peter fully belly-laughed, throwing his head back, his Adam¡¯s apple bobbing up and down as he mocked her. When he recovered, he took an unsteady step toward her. He seemed almost surprised at himself, when he stopped just inches from her, swaying backward to correct his movement. She wanted to laugh at him, but for whatever reason, nothing happened, and her words stayed caught in her throat.

    Cat stared up at him as she white-knuckled the mattress behind her. The way he stared down at her, swaying so close. She bit her lip. This is why she needed to just get a quickie with Cam and bounce to other, greener pastures. She could hardly contain herself and this was Peter, for crying out loud. Though¡­she¡¯d be lying if she said she hadn¡¯t thought that maybe--

    Peter wobbled back and forth, staring down at her. Their movements synced, both of them holding in a breath, afraid to let it out. She tried, desperately, to look in his eyes, but she kept exploring his face, his red cheeks, his loose jaw. It was maybe the first time she saw that he wasn¡¯t just holding himself, forcing composure. He couldn¡¯t keep himself together. Now she saw the bags under his eyes, the flush of his skin on his chest from his unbuttoned shirt. The soft lines of his collarbone, even a faint scar on his neck. His skin looked so soft; she had to physically bite her lips together to stop herself from closing the distance between them. His shirt looked light and silky. Maybe she should grab it, just to keep herself steady, to get a better feel for his hot breath on her neck.

    ¡°You think I¡­.¡± When he spoke, her eyes fluttered to his lips, watching them part and morph to the words. Would he taste like Jungle Juice, or one of the other mixed drinks? ¡°You think I don¡¯t know when someone wants me?¡± A cold shiver ran down her spine as the smirk punctuated his point. Did--did he see that? Did he cause that? When Cat finally tried to catch his expression, he wasn¡¯t looking for eye contact. While one of her hands dug into the sheets, another went completely numb. He took his time meeting her gaze, and when he finally did, it took considerable strength to keep her hand down, to prevent herself from raising it and touching his unshaven cheek.

    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    She finally let out the breath she¡¯d held with Peter, slowly, shakily. He looked down to her, inches away. He could close the gap so easily, just sway a little closer¡­.

    ¡°Oh, shit, are we having a threesome?¡± Cam¡¯s voice felt like ice water down the back of her dress. Cat jumped, partially from Cam¡¯s voice, partially because all of a sudden her numb hand had feeling again, the sudden contact of Peter¡¯s right beside her, holding the mattress tightly; Peter blinked, as if waking up, and leaned back a little to look at to his roommate. He didn¡¯t seem to notice her hand, giving her an extra moment to snatch it away. Somehow she was so out of breath it was as if she ran up a flight of stairs.

    ¡°Huh?¡± Peter sounded. He didn¡¯t seem to hear what Cam said. Cat still struggled to even register that he spoke in the first place. Oh, God. What was that? What just happened?

    ¡°Is that a no?¡± Cam asked. Cat shut her eyes hard, shaking her head. Wait. A threesome? With Peter? No way.

    She finally turned to address the man she was supposed to be hooking up with. She forced her thoughts back a few moments, traveling through her slow and unhelpful urges as if they were made of glue. ¡°He¡¯s gunna go try and fuck Hannah--make him stop.¡±

    Cam only seemed amused. ¡°Oh, hell yeah! Go for it, man!¡±

    "No, do not go for it--¡± But Peter already turned himself to the door, and pointed at Cat without looking at her.

    ¡°I¡¯ma go sleep in your room, since you won¡¯t let me sleep in mine.¡± He recovered so quickly. Did he even realize how close he got to her?

    ¡°Yeeeah!¡± called his roommate. He let himself into the room and raised his hand for a high-5. Peter missed, but didn¡¯t try again.

    ¡°No, not ¡®yeah¡¯!¡± Every moment she scolded him gave her a second to get her head on straight. Healing from her head injury took less time.

    ¡°See you tomorrow!¡±

    ¡°Goddammit, Cam!¡± cried Cat. Peter stopped at the door and pulled his key out, then immediately shut the door when he left.

    Cam didn¡¯t hesitate now that they were alone. He caught her in his arms, buried his face in her neck to start planting kisses. His lips were hot against her skin, sending tingles throughout her body. She knew he¡¯d taste like tequila when he kissed her. And yet, for some reason, she was still surprised when the cold bite tickled her tongue again.

    Her hands finally reacted to his embrace and rested on his shoulders; her mind still reeled and spun; her chest was going to explode, and the kisses and gentle strokes from his hand exploring her skin under her dress were building the charge. Soft and warm, barely touching her skin, then immediately groping it, squeezing it, pulling her into him.

    She couldn¡¯t help it. Her lips parted, her voice barely escaping through a moan as she arched against him, ¡°Peter--¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t here,¡± Cam muttered into her neck. Cat¡¯s eyes flew open with her heart in her throat. ¡°He¡¯s having fun so we can have fun.¡± For a disorienting moment, fleeting and borderline horrifying, she¡¯d almost forgotten who was in front of her, that Peter left less than thirty seconds ago. Holy shit. She would have started to freak out if Cam hadn¡¯t begun to move his kisses southward, taking her only coherent thought with him.

    Cameron couldn¡¯t gather the dexterity to unbutton her dress any further, but she was able to slip out of it fast enough to keep up with the trajectory of his affection. She knew that in this state, she wouldn¡¯t last long. She hardly gathered the ability to tangle her hand in his hair before she surrendered to the swirling rapture. Cam was no stranger to what she wanted, and proved he¡¯d memorized her favorite motions even as intoxicated as he was.

    Maybe if she had one less drink, she¡¯d be able to recall how it all ended. Or maybe she wouldn¡¯t have immediately fallen asleep and been able to put on some clothes. But morning broke with the sound of thudding against the door.

    Cat lay on her stomach with her head under Cam¡¯s pillow, suddenly aware of his body shifting beside her. His warmth disappeared, and Cat opened her eyes just a crack to see where he was going. He¡¯d hopped over her to land on the floor and grab for his boxers, and managed to pull them on just in time for the door to open.

    ¡°Sorry--¡± whispered the intruder. ¡°The door stuck again. Oh--!¡± Through her lashes and from under the shadow of the pillow, Cat could make out a blurry Peter stumble in. ¡°Sorry.¡± Cam recovered from putting on his underwear and twisted around to his bed, and grabbed for the sheets that now rested at Cat¡¯s hips to pull them further up to her shoulders. That was a nice gesture. As a warm feeling of appreciation rushed up her chest, Cat was able to take inventory of what was going on.

    She was completely naked in Cam¡¯s bed, though now fully covered, and somehow she didn¡¯t have that bad of a hangover. At least yet. Slight headache, but no nausea.

    ¡°It¡¯s all good, man,¡± Cam whispered as he twisted back to face his roommate. He mostly blocked Cat¡¯s view, but she heard Peter gently open his closet to access his dresser. ¡°Have a good night?¡±

    Peter dug through his drawers and let out a quiet laugh.

    ¡°As good as yours, I assume.¡± But before Cameron could react, Peter switched gears. ¡°Um--sorry, though. I should have talked to you first, but I wasn¡¯t thinking.¡± As he asked this, Cam reached for more clothes to put on.

    ¡°Huh? Why?¡±

    Peter hesitated at his closet, standing up straight as he grabbed something from his drawer. ¡°Because you guys--you and Hannah--before the year started, you were kind of together. More than you were with Kelsey, I mean.¡±

    Cam almost forgot to keep whispering. ¡°No, no. I don¡¯t do ¡®together.¡¯ It¡¯s all good. Hannah¡¯s been targeting you since the semester started.¡± Peter must have gestured for him to be quiet, because suddenly the two went silent and he spun around to look at her. Cat shut her eyes to continue feigning sleep.

    Peter continued in an even quieter whisper, ¡°For not being committed, you have a weird way of showing it.¡± What? What did that mean? Cameron hesitated, which only sent Cat¡¯s blood pressure through the roof.

    ¡°I¡¯m not actively searching for anything, just happy to be of assistance to whoever wants to use me.¡± Cat risked cracking her eyes open just a little bit. Cam had his undershirt on, now, and Peter held what seemed to be swim trunks in his hand.

    ¡°Alright.¡± Peter sounded unconvinced, and for whatever reason, it was definitely enough for Cat to go into full panic mode. That¡¯s it. This was the last time with Cam. This was enough of a wake-up call for her to remember when she was next drunk and horny. Maybe Peter just didn¡¯t understand Cam and Hannah, that they were unserious people with unserious feelings, and he was projecting something onto him. Or maybe Peter¡¯s instincts about his roommate were right, and Cam was a little less fickle than he claimed. Either way, it was enough for Cat to silently, officially swear off of Cam. He might have been a great friend--a great distraction, but she knew him well enough to know that anything more would only end in disaster. She could not let that happen. This was definitely the last time.

    Her panic only intensified when Peter started to unbutton his shirt and kick off his shoes. Should she pretend to wake up now? But Cam let out a chuckle.

    ¡°What?¡± Peter mumbled as he stripped out of his pants from last night. Cat opted to shut her eyes, just in case. Not like she hadn¡¯t seen it all before, but still. The consent wasn¡¯t there for this.

    ¡°We have similar taste.¡± A beat. ¡°You know--Kelsey, Hannah....¡± Kelsey? Peter was into Kelsey? Poor guy didn¡¯t stand a chance. Her initial instinct was almost to pity him. But Cam continued. ¡°And what did I walk in on last night?¡± Oh god. Oh god. He saw that? He noticed? It was just a weird moment of lapsed judgment. Peter fumbled with something, dropping it on the floor.

    ¡°What?¡± Peter was the one to forget to whisper this time. Cam laughed. ¡°You didn¡¯t--there wasn¡¯t--nothing--¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh.¡±

    ¡°She--she probably thought I was you,¡± Peter spat out, returning to whispering. Oh god. He did see, he did notice the way she responded to him, her shivers, her stares, the electricity. She must have looked so desperate to him, so drunk and receptive. Her stomach burned, ugly and ashamed.

    ¡°I¡¯m not so sure.¡± Cam¡¯s voice was far too smug for Catherine¡¯s comfort. Her heart slammed against the chest as if she just ran a mile; if this continued for much longer, she would very likely melt into the mattress from humiliation. ¡°And what about you? What¡¯s your excuse?¡± Cat had to physically remind herself to breathe. She was so worried about her own reaction, she didn¡¯t even think of Peter¡¯s. Was he even coherent enough to know what was going on last night?

    ¡°I was drunk.¡± Peter¡¯s tone took a more stern tone. ¡°You¡¯re projecting.¡± More shuffling, hurried and clumsy. The silence was thick like syrup as Cam huffed his reply. Maybe he was. Maybe what Cam saw was just what he wanted to see. Peter continued, ¡°I¡¯m going for a swim to try and get rid of this hangover. I¡¯ll be back in an hour.¡±

    She could hear Cam¡¯s smile in his voice as he said, ¡°Alright, see you later.¡±

    Cat stumbled into her own dorm room not too long after that. She knew her hair was flat on only one side, and an awful cowlick on the back of her head nearly exposed her newest scar. Her makeup--good lord, she didn¡¯t even want to look in the mirror.

    When she opened her door, Hannah stood in front of the closet with her hair gathered in her hands, preparing a ponytail.

    ¡°Morning!¡± she chirped. She decorated herself with a pink dress and coordinating jewelry; the damn girl even looked refreshed.

    ¡°Mm,¡± Cat replied, letting the door shut from the weight of its hinges as she made her way back to bed.

    ¡°Have a good night?¡± That question made Cat¡¯s stomach swirl. The hangover was getting worse. Or maybe it was just the straight discomfort she couldn¡¯t shake.

    ¡°Fine,¡± she answered quietly as she shook away her memories.

    ¡°I had a great night.¡±

    ¡°Mm.¡± She hoped her short replies would give Hannah the not-so-subtle hint that she was far from in the mood to talk about it. Cat hopped onto her bed, still in her clothes and shoes, and landed face-first into her pillow. How could such a fun night turn into such an awful morning?

    ¡°Girl. Girl." Hannah finished securing her hair with a snap of the rubber band and approached Cat¡¯s bed to prod her in the shoulder. ¡°I¡¯m a prophet.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± she muttered into her pillow.

    ¡°The last few guys I¡¯ve been with, I¡¯ve been able to look at them and go, ¡®Yeah, he fucks like that.¡¯ And I¡¯ve been right every time!¡± Cat turned on her pillow to stare at her roomie.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°So, like--an example you¡¯ll get. I met Cam and was like, ¡®He¡¯s an Energizer Bunny.¡¯ And he is, right?¡± Cat¡¯s expression must have been a direct reflection of what she felt, because there was absolutely no way she could fake not being disturbed by this new information.

    ¡°Um?¡± Was she supposed to answer that?

    ¡°And Peter--I knew, oh my god. I knew he was raised Catholic.¡± Before Cat could interrupt her and express just how much she didn¡¯t want to talk about this, her confusion got the best of her.

    ¡°What?¡± she echoed.

    ¡°You know! How Catholics have all these mixed feelings about sex and stuff. They¡¯re shamed their whole lives for having any feelings, they go kind of HAM--¡±

    "What?¡±

    ¡°Hard As a Motherfucker.¡±

    ¡°I know what HAM means, Hannah.¡± Cat¡¯s tone completely flew over Hannah¡¯s head.

    ¡°Oh, the Catholic thing. It¡¯s like this guilty pleasure thing! Like they feel so bad, but can¡¯t stop themselves--¡± She gestured with her hands, as if it would make this conversation any more bearable.

    ¡°Hannah, I¡¯m Catholic.¡± Sort of. At least for every major holiday.

    "I knew it!¡± Well that was an unintentional consequence.

    Cat literally waved her hand to shoo her roomie away. ¡°Don¡¯t you have a group meeting or something?¡±

    ¡°Alright, fine. Sleep off your hangover. We¡¯ll talk about this later.¡± Good lord, she hoped not. Cat replied by plopping her face back into her pillow.

    Halloween was supposed to be a relaxing way to pretend to be something else for a day. Instead she was bombarded with far too much introspection and psychoanalysis that she literally couldn¡¯t tell if her thoughts were making her more nauseous, or if her nausea made her drift to uncomfortable thoughts.

 Chapter 16

    Lunch with me, Kelsey and Cam?

    Still feel like shit. Rain check. Cat¡¯s stomach felt fine. But at the sight of Cam¡¯s name in Hannah¡¯s text, everything inside her recoiled. She¡¯d spent the majority of the time in bed, nursing a throbbing headache, even after she took a shower and climbed into sweats.

    Talkative was distracting enough, for the most part. There were more than a few posts about not only the party last night, but apparently a dozen others around the city that were far crazier. Someone¡¯s car ended up in a pool, someone else asked how they ended up in a wedding dress from the 80s. Well, Cat thought as she clutched her pillow to her chest, last night could have been worse. She could¡¯ve been any of these people.

    Catch you after, then? came Hannah¡¯s reply. Cat opted to ignore it and instead scrolled through a thread about hangover cures.

    Exercise and tons of protein. PumpkinKing coming in with actual advice. Cat scoffed and replied, Yeah that¡¯s not happening. Does ice cream work?

    PandaSex69 gave her a laughing emoji right after giving Pumpkin a thumb¡¯s down. She nearly smiled at it.

    Pumpkin posted, Ice cream has never NOT been proven to cure hangovers¡­.

    Now that she had managed an actual smile, she decided to follow her own advice. A little walk to the convenience store for a popsicle would not only get something in her stomach and maybe bring her appetite back, but it might put her in a better mood.

    Cat hardly looked in the mirror. No makeup, hair a damp mess, sweats and sweatshirt. Good enough. She knew where her friends were, so she wouldn¡¯t run into them.

    The early afternoon was crisp; autumn officially made itself known with a cold breeze and clouds that lingered on the treetops. Would they actually get fall weather? Would it stay this way, or would the sun burn it all away in favor for triple-digit temperatures again, like normal? It had been so long since breathing was this easy, like a dewy morning. Too often the sun bathed the campus in inescapable heat.

    It certainly felt like if she stayed outside for much longer, that the sun would find a way to burst through the clouds and make the concrete bench she sat upon hot to the touch. Well, her wandering around for an hour was a good enough cure for her headache, oddly enough. Now she just felt the lingering lack of appetite, and she didn¡¯t want a repeat of last month, so she had to eat something.

    Maybe if she was more responsible, Cat would opt for something other than ice cream for lunch. But after PumpkinKing¡¯s reply, she spent the last hour debating best flavors with him in Talkative while she wandered around the main parts of campus, and now she felt committed. Somehow, she¡¯d convinced herself that a lemon popsicle would help her feel better, while Pumpkin bet that something coffee-flavored would do the trick. She wanted to prove him wrong.

    So here she was, avoiding having lunch with her friends, approaching the convenience store in the middle of the quad to buy ice cream, of all things.

    She should have known her improving mood would have to plummet. That¡¯s just how things went. While Cat was stuck in her own world, sitting on a concrete bench in sweats and passing the time talking to a faceless stranger online, life continued on. She¡¯d nearly forgotten what put her in a bad mood in the first place. She¡¯d forgotten that she opted to text on her phone to a guy whose name in her head was Pumpkin rather than hang out with her friends, who had real, human names.

    It was a nice break from reality. But all good things must come to an end.

    Just as she approached the door to the store, Peter stepped out, staring at his phone, a small bag hanging from his other hand. Oh, God. The only other guy on campus, other than Cam, she¡¯d rather die than see. Well, other than Cam and Nate. What was wrong with her?

    Cat¡¯s stomach flopped uneasily when the sounds of the AC of the store muted by the closing doors. Peter nearly jumped when she approached, side-stepping with furrowed brows.

    ¡°You look like you¡¯re going to vomit.¡± Oh, how nice. What a way to greet someone. But the reminder that she wasn¡¯t the best at hiding how she felt did allow her to mask her shame and guilt with annoyance.

    Cat rolled her eyes. ¡°Probably just ¡¯cause I saw your stupid face.¡± That was maybe a bit harsher than she intended.

    Peter sighed, seemingly defeated. ¡°You¡¯re such a child.¡±

    ¡°Better a child than a dick.¡± She couldn¡¯t look up at him anymore, and instead watched her hand put her phone in her sweatshirt pocket.

    ¡°Sure, that¡¯s me.¡± Peter scoffed at her and went to keep walking, but her stomach burned so intensely, the first words she could find leapt to her throat, stopping him in his tracks. She turned back to him and barked, ¡°You know what? Why don¡¯t you go die lonely?¡±

    Peter spun around, taken aback by her words, seemingly offended. ¡°Beats being around you. Jesus, you¡¯re even more acidic than usual today.¡±

    Her face burned. ¡°Shut up.¡±

    ¡°So, clearly, you feel as great as you look.¡± The way he dismissed her so easily, scowling without a dimple in sight.

    And just like vomit, her words bubbled in her throat until she spilled them. ¡°If I look like I don¡¯t want to ever look at you again, then that¡¯s right.¡±

    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Peter¡¯s face melted into a wide-eyed surprise before defaulting to a contemptuous frown. ¡°Don¡¯t blame your hangover on me. Handle your liquor better.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s rich, coming from you. You could hardly stand last night.¡± She regretted saying it the moment the words slipped from her lips. She watched, her stomach frozen, as Peter¡¯s eyes went wide. He gaped like a fish, starting and stopping his words. Oh, God. Why did she say that? Now they were transferred back to last night, when the air nearly crackled from the charged energy, when he was so close and her thoughts were caught between kissing him, or waiting to see if he would break first.

    But this was reality. They stood in the middle of a cold autumn breeze by a stupid, overpriced store, and Peter¡¯s face was red from anger and humiliation.

    ¡°I--You--¡± She went too far. She shouldn¡¯t have said anything in the first place. Peter stopped looking at her. ¡°Why don¡¯t you go harass someone else for a change? I--I don¡¯t have time for this.¡± Finally, she kept her mouth shut as he stormed away, white-knuckling his plastic bag as he headed back to the dorms.

    The door to the convenience store opened again, spitting out a couple chatting girls, and Cat stepped out of the way with her head in her hands. Why did she do that? Why couldn¡¯t she stop herself? It was worse than when she was drunk; this was an impulsive heat that rushed to her lips before she could even realize what was happening. At least when she was drunk, she was aware of what was happening--mostly. She knew last night who was in front of her, who she nearly reached up to touch.

    With her eyes burning in the cold breeze, Cat twisted away from the convenience store to make her way back to the dorms. She couldn¡¯t be out in public like this. Not when she was so¡­well, what described her?

    She went with Nate last night, encouraging him and his movements, ditched him for Cam, and nearly ditched Cam just because Peter happened to be in front of her. Something was seriously wrong.

    By the time she¡¯d opened her dorm room door, a single tear started its way down her cheek. She didn¡¯t expect Kelsey and Hannah to be sitting on the floor with their laptops, eyes glued to her in shock.

    They didn¡¯t even get a chance to say hello, or ask what was wrong. Instead, Cat let out a small sniffle and asked, ¡°Am I a slut?¡±

    Hannah immediately rose to her feet, a stack of papers fluttering to the floor. ¡°What! Who said that to you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll kill them!¡± Kelsey was next, but took the time to slide everything off her lap, first.

    ¡°Asshole won¡¯t know what¡¯s coming!¡±

    ¡°No--no one called me that,¡± Cat corrected.¡± I just¡­. I was kind of with Nate last night, and ended up with--¡± Peter--no, not Peter-- ¡°Cam and¡­.¡±

    Hannah interrupted, ¡°Oooh, it¡¯s the Catholic thing.¡± She said it to Kelsey, who understood just about as well as Cat did this morning. ¡°Cat¡¯s feeling Catholic guilt over her sexuality because she slept with Cam again.¡±

    Cat wiped her tear away, about to protest, when Kelsey deflated and cooed at her, ¡°Oh, honey.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not it¡­.¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t it?¡± Hannah challenged, seemingly irritated. ¡°You know, I get so sick of this double-standard. Guys can sleep with as many women as they want and they¡¯re a hero. But the minute we show the hint of an emotion, we¡¯re vilified and even worse, it¡¯s so internalized that we feel it almost instinctually!¡±

    ¡°Exactly! Cat, do you feel bad for eating when you¡¯re hungry?¡± Kelsey pointed at her, now, as if she was the enemy.

    ¡°No¡­.¡±

    ¡°Then you shouldn¡¯t feel bad for having sex when you want it with whoever you want. Right?¡±

    ¡°Right!¡± Hannah agreed, prompting for Cat¡¯s answer.

    ¡°I guess.¡± She shrugged. Her friends were still fired up, full of energy from being able to eat lunch and from not consuming far too much alcohol last night.

    ¡°This is such bullshit!¡± Kelsey continued, nodding wildly with Hannah.

    ¡°You guys are really mad¡­.¡± Cat finally stepped further into her room, now that the initial attack seemed to simmer down, and went to sit on her bed. Hannah joined her, plopping at the foot of it while Kelsey elected to stand.

    Hannah placed a hand on Cat¡¯s knee. ¡°Whatever you¡¯re feeling, believe me. We know.¡±

    ¡°I know¡­.¡±

    Hannah continued, ¡°So come on, out with it. Is it just the internalized misogyny? Did someone call you a slut? Am I shanking a bitch tonight?¡± Cat let out a laugh, but her roommate was serious. She sighed.

    ¡°No...I guess I just¡­.¡± Hannah mouthed ¡°Catholic guilt¡± to Kelsey. ¡°Alright, fine, guilt. Whatever you want to label it. I just¡­. I didn¡¯t intend for anything to happen, and I almost went off with Nate, but ended up with--¡± Nearly Peter-- ¡°Cam. Like whatever moved was my target and¡­.¡± She sucked in a slow breath, willing her cheeks to stop burning.

    ¡°I mean¡­.¡± Kelsey stole the moment. ¡°It¡¯s not like you slept with some random hobo.¡± Well, she nearly did, if Peter was some random hobo!

    ¡°But I feel like I could have,¡± Cat blurted, avoiding their eyes.

    ¡°Maybe if it was a hot hobo,¡± Hannah joked for a moment. Kelsey laughed, but at her roommate¡¯s silence, Hannah sighed. ¡°Look, you didn¡¯t. Okay? That should count for something. Say there was a random hobo in the room right there with you and Cam. You¡¯d opt for Cam.¡± She continued with her analogy, but Cat kept staring at her fingernails, picking at her skin.

    ¡°What if Cam wasn¡¯t there, and--and the hobo was?¡± Cat blurted, nearly interrupting Hannah. ¡°Like I feel like if Cam didn¡¯t show up, I would have just gone with¡­with¡­.¡±

    ¡°Nate?¡± her roommate finished for her. Well. Even as drunk as she was, she wasn¡¯t sure if she would have slept with Nate. But for the sake of the argument, he could be a stand-in. Cat accepted her friend¡¯s fill-in with a nod.

    ¡°Be nice to yourself,¡± Kelsey finally said, nudging Cat¡¯s knee with her hand. ¡°You¡¯re not some animal. I mean, if you don¡¯t want to sleep with him, you¡¯re not suddenly going to go jump his bones when you¡¯re drunk.¡± She didn¡¯t get it.

    Peter was a jerk. He knew which buttons of hers to press and had no problem acting like an asshole. That didn¡¯t change last night just because of too much alcohol. What Kelsey said implied that if she was so willing to try and lean into the moment last night, that there were some sober intentions behind it. But that was impossible. Maybe Kelsey and Hannah didn¡¯t understand because they didn¡¯t know who she was talking about...but it would have to stay that way. No, that moment was going to have to stay secret--unless Cam said something.

    Cat sighed. ¡°I should just focus on school¡­.¡±

    ¡°Also a good option. It¡¯s not like this place is free.¡± Kelsey nodded to her, and patted her leg one more time before she reached into her back pocket for her phone.

    ¡°Who¡¯s that?¡± Hannah asked.

    ¡°Peter. Seeing if we¡¯re all down for dinner.¡± Cat¡¯s eyes nearly bulged out of her head, but her roommate was quick to save her.

    ¡°Nope! Estrogen-only night until Cat feels better.¡±

    Kelsey nodded and began typing on her phone. ¡°Exactly. I¡¯ll tell him that.¡±

    ¡°No, don¡¯t!¡± Cat blurted. Oh, God, the last thing she needed was for them to tell Peter that she wasn¡¯t feeling herself, and then for him to think--what would he think? ¡°He¡¯s...he¡¯s not stupid,¡± she finished slowly.

    Kelsey pursed her lips. ¡°Oh. Um. Girls¡¯ night. We planned this last week and forgot to tell them.¡±

    ¡°Won¡¯t hear any different from me,¡± said Hannah, raising a hand to promise. Cat¡¯s heart finally relaxed back into its proper place, dropping from her throat just as fast as it leapt there.

    ¡°You guys are the literal best. You know that, right?¡±

    Kelsey let out a laugh, and nudged Cat to move over so she could jump on the bed, too. ¡°I could stand to hear it a few more times.¡±

 Chapter 17

    It didn¡¯t take long for Kelsey and Hannah to make her feel better. They didn¡¯t talk about guys at all for the rest of the night. Instead, they complained about homework, gossiped about teachers, reminisced about home life until they all physically ached from missing family. And, to top off the evening, Kelsey ran out and grabbed everyone pre-made sandwiches from the shop so that they didn¡¯t have to go anywhere. Instead they ate their sandwiches and watched an episode of one of Hannah¡¯s favorite soap operas before Cat finally admitted she needed to go to bed.

    ¡°You guys are so wonderful,¡± she said. And after a couple tight hugs, Kelsey bade them good night, and Hannah settled in bed on her laptop with her headphones while Cat attempted to go to sleep.

    As soon as the gentle sound of Hannah¡¯s typing fingers put her to sleep, Cat¡¯s stomach began to flutter as if it was full of butterflies. Talking to her friends was all well and good, when she could control her thoughts. But she knew that the minute she drifted to sleep, she¡¯d open her eyes and see Peter standing before her.

    Well, she knew she¡¯d see Peter in her dreams. She didn¡¯t think she¡¯d see two of him. One on the left stood, smiling at her with his dimples prominent and proud. Beside him was his twin, scowling, still dimpled. Cat pursed her lips at them.

    ¡°Why do I see two of you now?¡± she asked them, looking between them.

    They answered in unison, in one voice: ¡°What you see and what you get.¡± She glared.

    ¡°That¡¯s not how that saying goes,¡± she said. The Peters didn¡¯t reply, just stood there, blinking. ¡°What¡¯s the difference between you?¡± she asked, opting to step closer. They were both just as tall as the Real Peter, both with immaculate eyebrows and carefully-measured stubble. But they both stared at her, eyes green and brilliant, just like real life.

    ¡°What you see,¡± the frowning Peter said, ¡°and what you get.¡±

    Cat now looked to the smiling Peter, exploring the folds of his face. How was this dream so vivid? Every detail, every freckle on his nose, every hair looked so real. She was sure that if she went to touch him, she¡¯d feel his skin all the same.

    ¡°Which one of you is the real one?¡± Cat asked. ¡°I don¡¯t think I could handle two Peters.¡± Smiling Peter sobered, his grin deflating to more of a contented expression. His eyes were still bright, amused. When she looked to Frowning Peter, he looked a little more smug, and stared at her far too intensely. Her skin must have turned to flames that moment.

    ¡°You can¡¯t even handle the one you see.¡± Something about the way he said it, the way his lips formed the words so softly and carefully, transferred her back to Cam¡¯s room, where her chest was so tight she was certain it would explode. And, just as fast as the feeling grew, it disappeared in favor of the cold morning air blowing through the crack of her window and the silent buzzing of her phone¡¯s alarm.

    Cat couldn¡¯t bring herself to open her eyes, just squeezed the side buttons on her phone to get it to snooze. Really, brain? Now she couldn¡¯t escape from him in her dreams?

    Getting ready for work was slow, painful. And it was absolutely freezing while she walked her way to the stupid coffee shop that opened far earlier than anyone needed it to on the weekends. Every morning she rose for it, the sunrise got further and further away, darkening the sky as each morning passed. Downside of wintery weather¡­.

    The door to Jittery Joe¡¯s was open, and her manager was working on the signs.

    ¡°Holiday hours,¡± Nadine said, sounding just as chipper as a senior forced to be at work at five in the morning would. ¡°Hope you put in your time off request¡­.¡± Nadine didn¡¯t give her an option to reply, and instead held the door open for Cat as she stepped inside. Her stomach dropped.

    ¡°Um--but the cutoff is two weeks before¡­before break,¡± she stammered, blinking at the new sign. What kind of sadistic prick determined that Jittery Joe¡¯s was going to be open on a national holiday?

    ¡°Yeah, and everyone and their uncle wants to go home. Fishies get last draw, so it¡¯s really up to you and Jeffrey to duke it out.¡±

    Her heart hadn¡¯t hurt this much since her first breakup. She knew Jeffrey would be a hard sell. And later that day, he absolutely was.

    ¡°Come on, Cat,¡± he whined over the coffee grinder. ¡°We go every year. I already have my plane ticket.¡± What kind of proud American celebrated Thanksgiving by going to Bora Bora every year? As she counted the singles in her hand, Cat watched her hopes of going home for the holiday drip down the drain. ¡°You can have Christmas. I don¡¯t do Christmas.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t even have a choice,¡± Cat mumbled. Jeffrey didn¡¯t hear her over the machine and asked her to repeat, but she shook her head. ¡°Whatever, Jeffrey.¡± The change rattled harshly in the drawer when she slammed it shut. ¡°I¡¯m going on break. Or do I have to stay because you¡¯re going to Aruba?¡± She didn¡¯t even wait for Jeffrey to reply. Based on the expression of the next customer in line, she was quite confident he was going to cover her no matter what she said or did.

    Cat sat behind the coffee shop with her phone to her ear, her arms hugging herself tightly. Third ring¡­fourth ring. No answer. Frowning, she waited for the answering machine to beep.

    ¡°Hey, Mom¡­. I have bad news. I¡¯m scheduled to work on Thanksgiving and I really can¡¯t get out of it.¡± As she said it aloud, Cat picked at her sweater guiltily. At least through a voicemail, she couldn¡¯t hear her mother wail in dispair. ¡°They said I get Christmas off, though...so there¡¯s that.¡± She let out a slow sigh, her eyes shut tight. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I really wanted to come home¡­.¡± But now she couldn¡¯t. Because Jeffrey was a fucking snob. Why did men suck so much? All of them. Nate turned out to be kind of creepy, Cam was clingy, Peter-- ¡°I love you, talk soon.¡± Cat hung up in favor of staring at her phone again.

    She obviously hadn¡¯t tortured herself enough this weekend, Cat thought as she found herself opening up her class apps. She hadn¡¯t looked at her grades for a few weeks. She didn¡¯t want to. She knew her scores were lower and lower, and when she confirmed it by checking after leaving a heartbreaking voicemail for her mom to receive, Cat¡¯s stomach physically panged.

    What was she doing with her life? She couldn¡¯t afford to lose this opportunity. No one in her family could. Instead of working hard to be successful, she was going to parties, getting drunk and sleeping with--or nearly sleeping with--guys she shouldn¡¯t have. Communications suffered the most out of all her classes, disappointingly enough. Despite her efforts, that awful ¡°0¡± from that dumpster fire of a first debate dragged everything down. She¡¯d have decent scores if it weren¡¯t for that. Hell, if she somehow managed to pull off this final debate and was absolutely perfect with the remaining presentations and tests, she could theoretically still pull off an A. But right now the awful letter D stared back at her and plummeted her mood even further.

    Maybe it was better if she didn¡¯t get to go home. It would be better to not see her family at all than face them with this utter failure of a first semester away.

    The rest of her break ticked by slowly. Her mother didn¡¯t call her back, and every moment she sat out here, the weight of her stomach increased. The acid refused to settle, and instead churned as her thoughts raced. Would her parents be mad? Would they think it was her fault? If she put in her vacation request sooner, Jeffrey would have to split the time with her. Did he have to go to Bora Bora for the whole Thanksgiving week? What about classes? They technically didn¡¯t have break until that Thursday anyway.

    <hr>

    Her workday took forever to end. And homework took even longer. She used her dinosaur-like laptop to write possibly the worst essay she¡¯d ever made, and Hannah seemed to be so deep into a deadline that she didn¡¯t even come back to the dorm until Cat was preparing for bed.

    ¡°Long day?¡± Hannah asked, frowning as she slammed her backpack on the ground. Cat nodded.

    ¡°You too?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Just going to try and sleep it off. Run into Cam at all?¡± Cat¡¯s stomach lurched. As Hannah kicked her shoes under her bed and reached for an organizational cube that held her makeup remover, Cat sighed.

    ¡°No. Didn¡¯t even hear from him today.¡± If he actually had growing feelings for her, like Peter suggested, wouldn¡¯t he be a little more clingy? Maybe Peter did look into it too much.

    ¡°Well, tomorrow¡¯s your busy day, so you get an additional day to avoid him,¡± said her roommate, her face covered by a towel. Thank goodness she was focusing so hard on rubbing off her eyeliner. It allowed Cat a free moment to sit on her bed and frown at herself. Hannah didn¡¯t seem to ever catch on that Cat wasn¡¯t as upset about the Cam thing as much as she said she was. As the girls went to sleep, she briefly debated actually opening up about her real thoughts, or at least admitting she wasn¡¯t fully honest. But after hours of being unable to sleep, Cat settled on saying nothing. What good could Hannah do if her roommate was a crazy mess?

    <hr>

    On her walk to Human Sexuality that Monday, Cat¡¯s mother called.

    ¡°Hi, honey!¡± she chirped.

    ¡°Hey. Did you get my message?¡± Though if her mom sounded this happy, she doubted it.

    ¡°No, sorry, I accidentally erased it before I could listen. I was just calling to let you know that you should be getting a package any day now.¡± Cat slowed her walk.

    ¡°Another? Thank you, but why?¡±

    ¡°For Dia de Muertos! I got you a few things to make your own ofrenda. Just a couple copies of the photos and some pan. I know we don¡¯t do much with it, but I thought it might be nice to continue the traditions in your home away from home. I don¡¯t know if they provide a place for you or if there¡¯s a parade or anything over there.¡± As her mom droned on and on about how she couldn¡¯t find any concrete information about how the day was celebrated here, Cat¡¯s heart ached more and more. Nothing could make a person more homesick than the guarantee they couldn¡¯t go back.

    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    Halloween was in two days. Her family would spend Halloween morning cleaning a small table by the fireplace to put photos of their dead loved ones, and while Cat decorated the porch and told ghost stories to her little brother and neighborhood kids, her mother would bake and cook different sweets to put with the candles on the altar. Then, after Cat and her brother finished celebrating Halloween, they¡¯d gather around the altar and sit cross-legged on the floor with their sweets and tamales to listen to Mom and Dad¡¯s stories of long deceased relatives.

    Cat¡¯s mother said that back in Mexico, where their families were from, they would line a walkway with marigolds to the cemetery of their family to lead the spirits of the dead find their way to the ofrendas. They¡¯d dance and sing, and make lots of noise to help wake up their lost loved ones, play their favorite music and eat their favorite foods, and spend the next couple days living with their memory.

    Maybe ghosts didn¡¯t exist. Maybe making noise and putting food out was just a way for the living to feel better about being around while their friends and families weren¡¯t. Cat wasn¡¯t certain if she believed in any of this, if she even thought her family was in Heaven, watching over her.

    But that Halloween morning, Cat woke up early to explore her dormitory¡¯s common rooms, with the box her mother sent unopened and under her arm. She did see a few little altars placed beside some students¡¯ rooms, and even a few in the common area that were a little bigger, possibly holding the efforts of multiple families.

    Cat still wore the flannel pajamas she fell asleep in, her hair still in a braid and out of the way and her face still clean of makeup. The sun had yet to rise; the dorm was quiet, hardly a creak of the floorboards to tell her anyone else was awake. It was at least too early for anyone to complain to Facilities about how cold it was.

    She settled in a far corner in the back, far enough away from other altars to give them their space. Some were far simpler than others, but a few had entire bouquets of marigolds and full-sized sugar skulls. Cat started to break open her flat-rate box from her mother with her fingernails, prying it open to see what sort of altar she could make.

    Using the box as a shelf for the few photos her mother packed for her, Cat used some of the fake flowers and mini figurines to prop the photos against the wall. Her brother sent her more sugar skull stickers, which she punctuated each corner with, and she left the two small loaves of bread encased in the saran wrap so she could set it on one of the box¡¯s flaps without worrying about germs. She didn¡¯t have any real candles to put beside it--none that wouldn¡¯t be taken away for directly violating the dorm¡¯s rules--so she instead placed the fake tea lights her mother sent on either side of her little setup.

    Cat sat on her feet as the morning sun began to pour in through the windows. Her great-great grandparents, great-aunts and great-uncles all crammed together in the black-and-white photocopies her mother sent. A few dear friends that Cat grew up thinking were aunts and uncles stood in their own, standalone polaroids, and Cat lined everything with some carefully-placed candies that were included in her box.

    The air was still and somber for the full half hour she spent in that corner. Some students walked through the common room to head to class or work, and none of them seemed to notice her quietly placing seemingly random things on an upside-down box.

    If she had been home, she¡¯d be able to decorate with photos of saints and crosses, the entire floor around the table would be adorned with pillows and blankets, water and a mirror so that her loved one¡¯s souls could rest and wash up from the journey to the ofrenda. But now as she sat on the dirty floor of her dorm¡¯s common room, the weight of the holiday began to settle on her shoulders. Cat was always taught that whenever she thought about death, she should talk to family about it. But her family wasn¡¯t here. What was she supposed to do?

    Pray? she thought to herself. She didn¡¯t normally do that. She didn¡¯t have the strongest relationship with religion, other than when her family was involved. But with nothing left to do, and with the feeling that she wasn¡¯t supposed to leave yet, Cat made herself more comfortable on the floor and closed her eyes. Here went nothing.

    The morning continued behind her. The doors to the common area opened and closed as people began to get ready for their days, though everything remained relatively quiet. College students weren¡¯t exactly known for being morning people.

    Some movement sounded closer than others, more consistent, like someone opening a backpack, setting a few things down, then leaving. She opted to wait until the room was silent and still again, as if the movement of the dorm were her ancestors responding to her questions and confusion.

    Cat decided to open her eyes. She wasn¡¯t certain if her praying made any difference, if any gods or loved ones could hear her or see her...but it felt like almost enough for now. With the sun fully shining in the eastern window, Cat rose from her feet and glanced about the room. At one of the study tables beside her, someone had dropped off an unlit candle, a couple family photos, and a rosary. And, on either side, were the sample shots of tequila someone could buy at any liquor store. Half the labels were peeled off, probably so the RAs wouldn¡¯t confiscate them. This altar didn¡¯t have any food or candy of any sort like everyone else¡¯s did; she figured perhaps they weren¡¯t finished.

    The dead didn¡¯t eat the offers of food or drink what was left, but her mother and father said that they were attracted to the scent and would enjoy the spirit of the offerings. Cat always figured it was just a nice gesture, as if to say, ¡°We remember you liked this. We would eat this together if you were here.¡± She knew her own family¡¯s ofrenda would have several shots of tequila and some specific tapas carefully placed in front of certain photos. The small versions around the room, here, at least had sugar skulls and candies. Everything was meant to be consumed at night, as a way to have dinner with the dead loved ones.

    Cat approached the unfinished altar to glance at the photos, shocked, nearly, to see that one of them was in modern color, not a polaroid or ancient black-and-white photo like she normally saw. There were only two photos there. One with a lot of old people sitting together in a portrait-like fashion, much like some of the family photos in hers, and the one modern one beside that.

    The recent photo, itself, was warn along the edges and suffered a coffee stain right over one of the faces of the two men in it. She could recognize Peter immediately, wearing a plain tee with his arm around someone slightly taller beside him. After squinting, she could finally make out the smiling face underneath the splotch of unsweetened coffee. An older man with dimples that matched Peter¡¯s, brown hair speckled with gray along the sideburns and a receding hairline. Cat¡¯s stomach sank when she spotted the digital, red numbers in the corner to indicate the date: August of this year.

    <hr>

    The rest of the day went on quite ordinarily. A few people wore simple costumes to class, others wore regular clothes, a few even talked about a couple parties that were going to take place tonight. Thanks to the experience of the last one, she figured she¡¯d sit out of these ones.

    Cat found it difficult to concentrate during communications. She sat a few rows and a column away from Peter, enough to stare at the back of his head and wonder about the photo she saw this morning. If that photo was from August, how much sooner did that man die? It must have been Peter¡¯s biological father. And maybe he found out about his true heritage from that man¡¯s death. Or maybe she just assigned meaning to it and none of that was true.

    The mystery was enough to distract her from her original woes, from her confusing dreams to her disappointed parents to her consistent homesickness. Cat made up theories for herself during class and all the way back to her empty dorm. A small sticky note from Hannah mentioned she was out with Kasey to a party and to text her if she wanted to join. She instead opted to go to bed, knowing that tomorrow night would be a late one for her.

    November first was usually reserved for children that passed away. Cat¡¯s family was lucky enough to not know of any, so they would go straight to telling stories of the adults in their lives that died, and they¡¯d eat Halloween candy and a late dinner to round the night out.

    November second was to honor the adults and to join any local festivities, though she knew she wouldn¡¯t really do anything this year. She usually played games with her family and neighbors, sometimes even danced and sang popular songs. But celebrating alone¡­.

    The Day of the Dead wasn¡¯t supposed to be a sad occasion. It was a celebration, a way to reconnect with deceased loved ones in one, giant party. But that night, when Cat waited until Hannah was asleep at a quarter to midnight, Cat left to re-visit the ofrenda she¡¯d made.

    What was she supposed to do by herself? There was no grand meal, no music. And when she approached the common area, it was deserted. Some of the food and drinks from the other ofrendas were missing and replaced with more flowers, signs that people had come to relocate their celebrations to probably somewhere where alcohol was permitted.

    Cat stopped in front of her tiny altar, her phone clutched in her hand. Her little brother sent her maybe a dozen pictures of the festivities going around the neighborhood at home, but she couldn¡¯t bring herself to reply. She wasn¡¯t going to drag the mood of her family down, just because she was a little lonely.

    As she sat beside her fake candles and her saran-wrapped loaves of bread, a few other students came in the room to collect a few things from their ofrenda, leave others, say a short prayer and leave. She didn¡¯t have anything more to give, and instead thought to just sit there.

    She doubted that even if all of this was real, that her ancestors were roaming about the Earth, that they¡¯d visit her. Or if they would, that they would stay. She didn¡¯t have the fresh food her mother baked, or the tequila shots her dad put out in the name of all his deceased brothers and aunts.

    Cat¡¯s eyes drifted over to Peter¡¯s modest ofrenda on the table. Every offering in this room was small, though carefully adorned. Traditions had a way of following people, even if most of their resources were somewhere else.

    But Peter¡¯s was the only one without any pan or sweets. No sugar skulls, no candy, nothing. Just a candle, rosary, and sample tequila bottles that hardly passed as water and might even get taken away.

    She stood before her thoughts fully formed, loaf of pan de muertos in her hand. And, just as carefully as if she offered it to her own family, she set it down beside the rosary, in front of the two photos that leaned against the wall.

    It was almost time to go to bed. Cat returned to her own altar with a sigh and sat to begin eating the traditional sweets her family sent, making sure to think of each face in the photos that sat before her.

    She¡¯d finished her bread before Peter even walked in; part of her felt relief, that maybe wouldn¡¯t know it was her that approached his altar. He was quiet, hardly glanced her way when he made his way to his ofrenda. She watched him hesitate out of the corner of her vision as she picked up her wrappers and wiped away an crumbs she left behind. But, as she made her way to the trash can to make her leave, Peter¡¯s voice rang out, quiet and soft, but the clearest sound in the room: ¡°Cat¡­.¡±

    Even if she wanted to ignore it, it was impossible. The moment the trash left her hands to fall into the bin, she turned to him, met his gaze before she could help it.

    Peter stood at his table with the bottles of tequila in his hands, lids twisted off, one hand outstretched, offering it to her. Goosebumps tickled her skin despite the protection of her sweatshirt. She hesitated a moment, but eventually stepped toward him and accepted his offer, careful to place her fingers on the mini-bottle in a way that would no way touch him. Even without the feel of his skin, being this close felt like when she would rub her socks on the carpet as a kid to shock her brother.

    Her throat was dry, but she lifted the bottle just a bit and managed to croak, ¡±Salut.¡± In unison, they tilted their heads back to take the shot. Peter was far more graceful about it, only frowning when he finished, but Cat had a harder time fighting making a face. After sweet bread and candy, the tequila didn¡¯t complement it well.

    But she recovered, clearing her throat, and looked up to Peter, whose gaze never left her face. He almost looked like he had something to say, his lips fighting between resting and pursed. Cat responded with setting the sampler bottle on the table. She wanted to just walk away, smooth and uncaring, and she would have if she didn¡¯t try to sneak a glance at his expression.

    He just watched her hand tremble when she pulled it away and shoved it into her sweatshirt pocket; and, before he could somehow see how fast her heart beat, too, she ducked her head and left.

 Chapter 18

    Friday afternoon, Cat sat at her desk in her dorm, alone, when her phone buzzed. It was Cam, starting a group chat.

    Reunite tonight? Been too long since we¡¯ve all hung out! She wasn¡¯t entirely certain who was in the chat yet, but she sort of figured when she saw his text that she¡¯d avoided him for too long.

    I¡¯m down, was her quick reply. Only then did she let herself look at who was included in the chat, even though she was fairly certain who was in it.

    Kelsey was next. Only if it¡¯s after 8. Got a paper to finish.

    Hannah said, Craving for pizza, anyone? Lmao

    And the unknown number, whose Cat fluttering chest realized must have been Peter, replied, Sure, after class.

    Well. At least this time she was with Peter, others would be around. No repeats of...whatever weird thing she would do next. Maybe after they interacted together in front of people, things would go back to normal. Besides, whether she liked it or not, her friends were friends with him. It wasn¡¯t fair to them if she insisted they be separated like kindergartners.

    She had all through her communications class to prepare herself for this. But her heart rate wouldn¡¯t slow down, her palms got all clammy, and she absorbed almost nothing from the lecture. She switched between making theories about the photo Peter drank to, to revisiting the moments where she either got too close to him or yelled at him. Was she giving too much power to these weird points in time? That must have been it. It was what she decided must have been the case, anyway, by the time the professor dismissed everyone.

    But Professor Harlem called her name. ¡°Catherine and Peter, quick word about your makeup project.¡± Oh, great. Was she going to reject her preliminary argument? Was she going to tear apart her sources, call her an idiot? She¡¯d gone through almost every awful outcome by the time she¡¯d approached the professor¡¯s lectern, and stood, steeled and ready for battle.

    Peter¡¯s presence simultaneously warmed her back from his proximity and rose the hairs on the back of her neck on end. This wasn¡¯t that bad. This wasn¡¯t intense. She could handle this. That¡¯s what people generally felt when someone stood behind them silently.

    ¡°Your day to present¡­,¡± Professor Harlem started absent-mindedly as she searched for a pad of paper, a planner of some sort, ¡°...is December...what¡¯s that first Friday in December?¡±

    ¡°Do you mean November 30th or December 7th?¡± Peter asked. Cat forced herself not to jump from his sudden voice. She knew he was there. Why did she nearly jump out of her skin?

    ¡°She said December,¡± Cat muttered under her breath. Did he know those dates without looking them up, or did he sit there and go through the math? She didn¡¯t turn around to see if he had his phone calendar out or not.

    ¡°December 7th,¡± Professor Harlem confirmed, nodding at her notebook. ¡°Start of the class.¡± Cat nodded, pursing her lips. ¡°Any questions?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Peter answered. Cat wanted to turn around and slap him.

    ¡°Yes,¡± she corrected through gritted teeth. ¡°Did you get a chance to look at the preliminary arguments?¡± Peter finally stepped so that he was beside her, and she watched him out of the corner of her eye. He looked at her, but she didn¡¯t acknowledge his existence.

    Professor Harlem sighed, and offered a wry smile. ¡°I did,¡± she answered. ¡°But the part you are making up is the debate, itself. Not any work leading up to it. You aren¡¯t getting graded for that part.¡± Maybe it should have been a relief, but Cat still stared at the woman, frowning.

    ¡°Any...critiques?¡± she prompted as she shifted her weight from one foot to another. Peter¡¯s presence beside her felt heavier than his gaze.

    ¡°Nope,¡± the professor said with a shrug. Cat¡¯s jaw dropped. She couldn¡¯t help it. The professor raised a brow.

    ¡°I mean, are we going the right direction? Is this okay¡­?¡± Her hands picked at each other in front of her, and Professor Harlem glanced at them fleetingly.

    ¡°They¡¯re fine. If you¡¯ll excuse me, I¡¯ve got another class to teach.¡± And, as if it was as simple as that, as if this one assignment didn¡¯t hold Cat¡¯s whole future, Harlem picked up her stack of papers and her purse to leave.

    ¡°Professor,¡± she called, ¡°I--this is an important class to me.¡± But she didn¡¯t even hesitate; she just grabbed a few papers, shoved them into her purse, and started toward the door.

    ¡°I¡¯d hope so, Catherine,¡± was her answer. She didn¡¯t even glance back.

    ¡°No--I mean¡­.¡± But even as she went to follow her out the door, Professor Harlem didn¡¯t look back, and instead headed down the line of buildings. The icy breeze of the night stung as Cat caught the door from swinging in her face. The metal thudded against her fist with a thunk, prompting her to scoff.

    ¡°That was rude,¡± Peter muttered beside her. Cat¡¯s heart hovered high in her chest. This was it: the professor didn¡¯t like her, and she wasn¡¯t going to help. Not even a word of encouragement? What kind of teacher was she?

    Cat shoved the door open; its handle hit the outer wall and she started her angry storm toward the food court, arms crossed and feet stomping.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to lose my scholarship because Professor Harlem is a bitch. From one assignment.¡± It meant to be more of a complaint to herself, but Peter kept pace with her. Was this happening right now? The reason she might be a laughing stock to her whole family was just walking with her to dinner? Did he even know this was all his fault?

    ¡°Fragile scholarship,¡± was his constructive comment. Cat glared at him. ¡°Too soon?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re about as well-timed as a holocaust joke,¡± she spat.

    ¡°Jesus, sorry.¡± His insincere words fueled her angry silence until they¡¯d reached the food court. Thankfully, Cam was there already, claiming a large table with his feet propped up on the table.

    ¡°Were you born in a barn?¡± Cat asked, swatting his feet away.

    Stolen novel; please report.

    ¡°I was, actually, but I get what you mean.¡± Resigning to her criticism, Cameron pulled his feet down and gestured for Cat and Peter to sit. Peter, thankfully, took his place on Cam¡¯s other side, and offered no comment. ¡°Bad day?¡±

    Cat kept her arms crossed and opted not to answer, instead folding in on herself as she slumped in her chair.

    When Hannah joined them a few minutes later, she also commented on Cat¡¯s mood, but she didn¡¯t say anything yet. Was it a bad day or a bad week? Month? Year?

    It wasn¡¯t until Kelsey came by and took a seat between her and Hannah that Cat finally decided to say something.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to fail communications because Professor Harlem is a bitch.¡± Her mood didn¡¯t improve when she said this, so she sighed and continued, ¡°But more importantly, Jeffrey¡¯s a dick and now I can¡¯t go home for Thanksgiving because of him.¡± Her friends offered the correct expressions to prompt her to continue. ¡°He¡¯s going to Bora Bora so now I have to run Jittery Joe¡¯s by myself for that Thursday and Friday, and work the whole weekend. I can¡¯t go back at all.¡±

    ¡°What!¡± cried Hannah. ¡°That¡¯s not fair!¡±

    Kelsey fed off her anger. ¡°They¡¯re not giving you any time off?¡±

    ¡°Do you get overtime?¡± came Cam¡¯s stupid question. Cat sighed and leaned back against the chair.

    ¡°No time off at all?¡± Kelsey repeated. ¡°What did your parents say?¡± Now that that word was out--parents--Cat flinched. She had both of them right now, aching to see her. The guilt of not being able to see them was one thing, but on the other side of the coin was the guilt for complaining at all. There was at least one other person at that table that had one less biological parent. And, from what it sounded like, the father that raised him was in the process of disowning him. She kept her eyes on the floor while the shame rose to her cheeks. She shouldn¡¯t have been complaining.

    ¡°They claim to understand,¡± she said quietly, ¡°since this job is the whole reason why I can afford to even live here.¡± Her tongue turned to jelly. ¡°Anyway, that¡¯s why I¡¯m in a bad mood. It¡¯s whatever, now you know.¡± They seemed to sense that she didn¡¯t want to say anything more about it, offered a few generic words of support before they changed the subject to what sort of dinner everyone should get.

    Once they¡¯d all sat down with their various different foods, Cat with a teriyaki bowl, Kelsey and Hannah with sad-looking burritos, Cam with Chinese and Peter with some sort of fried fish, the conversation trickled to a halt. There was only so many times people could ask, ¡°What¡¯d you get?¡± and ¡°Oh, is it good?¡±

    Kelsey seemed tense, too, like she had a bad day. She couldn¡¯t seem to look up from the table unless someone else was talking, and even then, she didn¡¯t maintain eye contact. Hannah was overtly extroverted to try and make up for the weird tension that floated around the group; Cat tried not to be so quiet, but sitting next to Cam made her feel like she had to seem more interested than usual.

    Then, of course, Peter had to get some super important phone call and excused himself part way through. When he left, Kelsey tried to engage more, but Cat didn¡¯t pay much attention. She could see Peter in the distance, talking wildly to his cell phone, but she couldn¡¯t hear anything through the chatter of the food court. He seemed angry, sort of. Desperate.

    ¡°Wonder what that¡¯s about?¡± Cam finally asked, destroying any facade that the group wasn¡¯t collectively wondering what all his ill-timed phone calls were about.

    ¡°I think he¡¯s trying to see his little brother,¡± Kelsey answered. ¡°He¡¯s still a minor, and I guess Peter¡¯s fighting with his parents.¡± Cat opened her mouth to correct her, but thought better of it by the time Peter returned to the table. He slumped in his chair, avoiding everyone¡¯s eyes.

    The table held a collective breath as they awaited a cue from Peter on how to reply. Finally, he asked. ¡°Any parties tonight?¡± What a healthy coping mechanism.

    ¡°Tons,¡± Cam replied, shrugging. ¡°There¡¯s a few in the dorms, but there¡¯s one down the street I wanted to check out. Wanna come?¡± The guys made their plans, but the girls declined. Work. Group meeting. Essay due Monday. How Cam and Peter weren¡¯t a little burnt out from alcohol was surprising.

    <hr>

    Bedtime was glorious. After a warm shower, a face mask, complements of Hannah, and a fresh pair of flannel pajamas, Cat fell asleep faster than she¡¯d ever before. This was what she needed. But she was naive to think that a dreamless sleep like this could last.

    Harsh harsh vibrations beside her head made Cat groan out loud. Instinctively, she reached up and pressed the side button to make it shut up, but it didn¡¯t snooze. Cat sighed and peeled an eye open to try and see what was up.

    Oh. Not an alarm. A phone call. She blinked at the light, struggling to get her vision in focus. Cam? Why was Cam calling her at...three in the morning? She sat up in bed and answered, heart hammering hard against her chest.

    ¡°Hello?¡± she whispered into her phone. Hannah mumbled something on the other side of the room, peeved to be woken up in the middle of the night. But Cat¡¯s first instinct was to panic; was he okay? Why was he--but then the sounds on the other line reminded her why this could be happening.

    ¡°Y¡¯boy¡¯s drunk,¡± came an unfamiliar voice on the line. ¡°Come get him.¡± It was difficult to make out the voice from all the background noise. Shouts, whoops and hollers. The party he and Peter went to.

    ¡°My boy?¡± she whispered with a furrowed brow.

    Cat could finally understand her roommate¡¯s mumbles: ¡°Can you take that outside?¡± Cat mouthed an apology and began to throw her sheets off of herself.

    ¡°Sorry, you¡¯re the first on the most recent texts. Can you come pick him up?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have a car,¡± she answered, sliding out of bed. She found her flip-flops and sweatshirt by her bed, grabbed her lanyard of keys and stepped out of the room, more for respect for Hannah¡¯s beauty sleep than intending to keep a conversation with the stranger that had Cam¡¯s phone.

    ¡°Shit,¡± the guy sounded. ¡°You go to Bay City U?¡±

    Cat began to shove her arms in the sweatshirt, unable to stop herself from shivering. ¡°Yeah, Cam lives in my building.¡± Was this place allergic to using a heater or something?

    ¡°Oh! You¡¯re just down the street. Can you just come get him?¡±

    ¡°What do you mean, ¡®come get him?¡¯¡± The hallway looked almost creepy when it was this early and deserted. A few doors still leaked light from the bottom seam, but no one made noise.

    The guy on the other line continued, ¡°I mean he can¡¯t walk. He¡¯s literally flirting with a succulent right now.¡± Well, that unfortunately sounded like Cam. Cat shivered in her pajamas and struggled to rub her arm fast enough to produce some heat.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m supposed to--¡±

    From the other line, she could hear Cam start to yell: ¡±Is that Cat? Heeeeyy, Cat! You should--should come hang out!"

    ¡°You should go home, Cam!¡± the other guy yelled. More laughter overtook the receiver. Cat rubbed her eyes and sighed. Well. She was awake now.

    ¡°What about his roommate?¡± Cat realized at least. ¡°Peter. Tall, blond, he should be there.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s not happening.¡± There was no arguing based on that tone. Was Peter already passed out? Cat sighed.

    ¡°I¡¯ll...come try and get him to come home. Text me the address,¡± she mumbled into the phone.

    ¡°Thanks. Incoming.¡± And, with that, the line went dead, and ¡°Cam¡± text her. It was the house beside the one that hosted the Halloween party last week. Cat stared at the address and sighed. Well. So what if she had work in a few hours?

    Irritation burned at the edges of her stomach as started walking where she was directed. Cam owed her for this. Why couldn¡¯t that guy have picked a different name in the group chat? And, as she stalked her way out the building and onto the mostly well-lit pathway off of campus, she focused on her anger to keep away any unnecessary paranoia. It wasn¡¯t a good idea to just walk out in the middle of the night. But, well, no one was around. The campus was well-lit. She could hear pretty well. She knew a few moves to protect herself, and it wasn¡¯t like she wasn¡¯t returning with someone that wouldn¡¯t try to protect her if an axe murderer came out.

    Good lord, she was stupid. Why did she feel obligated to do this? Why couldn¡¯t she have just sent Hannah?

    The silence of the night didn¡¯t last for very long. She¡¯d walked maybe half a mile to the edge of campus, and pressed the button on the stoplight to gain permission to cross the street. Frat Row was loud, bright, and densely-populated. And here she was, in her nighttime braid and flannel pajamas, shivering and flip-flopping on her way to a party that should have ended an hour ago to fetch a guy that may or may not have too many feelings for her. Peachy.

 Chapter 19

    The house Cat wanted, based on the text message, had lights on and some hip-hop music pumping from the open windows, but it was relatively tame, at this point. There were a few people laying down on the various lawn chairs and porch furniture, some conscious, others still drinking. There was the telltale sign the party was over with a crying girl on the steps.

    Cat sighed and approached the open front door. It wasn¡¯t too populated anymore. A couple groups of people still chatted, animated and drunk, but it wasn¡¯t nearly as packed as the last party she went to. Then again, at this time last week, she was already asleep in Cam¡¯s bed.

    ¡°Are you here for Cam?¡± came the familiar voice from the phone. Cat twisted around to see a skinny guy in glasses waving her over to the dining area. The table was occupied by a seemingly intense game of Monopoly; two guys were yelling about how it wasn¡¯t fair to barter when someone at the table was in the bathroom, and a girl, the banker, was shaking the leftover 500 bills to try and bribe them to shut up and stop yelling. Cat followed the host around the corner to a hallway, where Cam slumped against the wall holding a bottle of water.

    ¡°Caaaaat!¡± he called, his arms splayed out to announce her presence.

    ¡°Sorry. He can handle his liquor, usually,¡± Cat said to the guy in glasses. He shrugged and looked to the door when someone else in pajamas stumbled in.

    ¡°Oh! Rebecca¡¯s outside crying. You just passed her.¡± Ah. So he was just trying to get people to leave. At least she wasn¡¯t the only one on babysitting duty.

    ¡°Cam,¡± Cat called, approaching him, ¡°can we go? I¡¯ve got work in a couple hours.¡± He gasped at her, squeezing the bottle until it crunched.

    ¡°Shiiiiiiiiiit, that¡¯s right,¡± he mumbled to himself. ¡°I don¡¯t got any keys....¡± Oh, Jesus. Cat almost slapped her forehead with her hand. ¡°But the party¡¯s just getting started!¡±

    ¡°What happened to your keys?¡± Cat asked instead. She glanced around the floor, examining the flat and stained carpet with a disgusted look on her face. This place was quite gross. What color was the carpet supposed to be originally? ¡¯Cause right now it sort of looked like marble cake, and she knew that wasn¡¯t an option at Home Depot.

    ¡°I ¡¯unno. Maybe Peter hash ¡¯em?¡± Ah. Right. The ¡°occupied¡± roommate that abandoned Cam to drink himself into paralysis.

    She glanced around the room, gesturing for Cam to give her more direction. ¡°Is he conscious?¡± she tensely.

    Cam pointed to the back yard; the door was open, and not many people were left there. A few chairs huddled around a fire pit. Peter sat in one, though he was ¡°sharing¡± with a girl in his lap, who had her legs wrapped around his waist. Yeah. He was preoccupied, alright. Cat glanced back to Cam.

    ¡°Can you stand?¡± She offered her hand for him to take. He reached up and grasped her hands, but was otherwise dead weight. ¡°I can¡¯t lift you, Cam. You have to work with me, here. We¡¯ve got to get you back.¡± Planting her feet, Cat pulled as hard as she could, but all she managed to do was slightly shift Cam to her right and slide him on the floor a little, which was apparently the most amusing thing to have happened tonight, because now Cameron was in the fetal position, laughing as he clutched his water bottle.

    ¡°Alright, game¡¯s over,¡± the host yelled to the dining table. The Monopoly players weren¡¯t nearly as drunk as Cam was, or as a few of the passed out people in the yard, so they were a little more receptive as they started to pack up.

    ¡°Cam, the party is over. Come on,¡± Cat urged. But he laughed so hard, shaking his head, wiping tears from his eyes.

    ¡°You¡¯re just-uh li¡¯l stick!¡± he said through his laughter. ¡°You can¡¯t move stoooooooooone!¡± Jesus Christ. Her irritation had evolved to actual anger; her fists balled up on their own, and before she knew it, she was walking to the backyard to the silhouette of Peter Plus One, calling his name.

    ¡°Peter, come get your roommate.¡± The brunette in his lap peeled her lips off of his, blinking and searching around for the source of her voice. ¡°Or give me your keys or something.¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡± The girl looked shocked to see Cat standing there, speaking. ¡°How are you in my dream?¡±

    ¡°This isn¡¯t a dream,¡± Cat said flatly. The girl furrowed her brows and glanced around again.

    ¡°So I have to go throw up now?¡±

    ¡°You can do it where you¡¯re sitting. That¡¯s fine with me,¡± she suggested, gesturing to the guy that still hadn¡¯t answered her.

    ¡°What?¡± Peter seemed to join the conversation now. ¡°Nooo, don¡¯t--don¡¯t throw up on me!¡± He shoved the girl to get off his lap, who used his momentum to stand as well as she could. She wobbled a bit, but Cat could tell--this one wasn¡¯t making it to the bathroom.

    ¡°If you don¡¯t want vomit on you,¡± Cat started, gesturing to the girl who now started to hack like a cat spitting up a hairball, ¡°you should move back.¡± She didn¡¯t think that he would take her literally. Peter knocked his chair back; Cat jumped as the legs of his chair went parallel to the floor, his back making contact with the wet grass. The girl fell to her knees and started to hurl, loud, chunky and wet. Cat scrunched her nose as Peter rolled in a reverse somersault to get out of his chair.

    ¡°There were so many easier ways to do that,¡± she muttered to him as he struggled to get to his feet.

    ¡°If--I f¡¯rgot.¡± He hiccuped, now at his feet. A few strands of grass clung to his hair as he tried to smooth out his shirt.

    ¡°Give me your keys,¡± she demanded, holding out her hand.

    Peter gasped. ¡°No! You¡¯re too drive to drunk!¡± Cat rolled her eyes.

    ¡°I¡¯m not drunk, I¡¯m not driving. I¡¯m getting Cam back to your room.¡±

    ¡°This again? I can¡¯t--¡±

    Cat started yelling at him, ¡°Jesus Christ, I¡¯m not--we¡¯re not hooking up, I¡¯m just putting him in his room so the host stops calling me!¡±

    ¡°What host?¡±

    ¡°The glasses guy.¡± Cat pointed inside to the same guy that greeted her, who now stood in front of the TV to tell people to leave.

    ¡°He doesn¡¯t¡­hic...even live here,¡± Peter said. What? That made no sense.

    Cat shook her head. ¡°I don¡¯t care. Give me your keys.¡±

    ¡°Are you robbing me?¡±

    ¡°Am I--are you kidding me?¡± A few people from inside turned to stare at her, but she didn¡¯t care. She was tired, she was angry, and everyone here was a complete idiot.

    ¡°You¡¯re not robbing me! My keys.¡± He put a protective hand over his pocket and shifted away from her.

    Cat pinched the bridge of her nose. ¡°Then give me Cam¡¯s keys.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have Cam¡¯sh keysh.¡± Peter took a moment to straighten up, blinking hard as if it would sober him up.

    ¡°Where are Cam¡¯s keys?¡±

    ¡°We left ¡¯em¡­in our room. So he can¡¯t lose ¡¯em.¡±

    ¡°Oh my God, either give me your keys or take your roommate home yourself.¡±

    Peter hesitated. ¡°Where is Cam?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a mess.¡±

    ¡°Yup.¡±

    Cat decided not to address his answer. ¡°Come on.¡± To the repetitive sound of the brunette girl vomiting, she urged him to follow her into the house. ¡°Was that the same girl as last week?¡±

    ¡°Tanisha? Yeeeeah, we used to...uh, date.¡± Well, at least he was consistent. For a brief moment, she wondered if this was the girl that Hannah also knew--the one Peter was seeing when she tried to sleep with him.

    ¡°Cam,¡± she called once they got inside. He still lay on the floor, this time holding a giant chocolate chip cookie. Pft. If anyone deserved that cookie, it was her for dealing with them.

    ¡°Hi!¡± he called with a full mouth. He looked up at them and waved with his free hand.

    ¡°I want a cookie,¡± Peter mumbled. Cat groaned and reached forward to Cam¡¯s free hand and tried to pull him up.

    Cam, ever helpful, started to chant: ¡°You¡¯re a stiiiiick....¡±

    ¡°Peter, if you want some cookie, you have to help carry Cam back to your place.¡±

    ¡°I get a cookie?¡± Suddenly he seemed invested in what Cat was doing, looking at her like a dog anticipating a treat.

    ¡°Only if you help take Cam back.¡±

    ¡°Back where?¡±

    "To your room, you drunk dingus!¡±

    "You¡¯re drunk.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not drunk, Peter, I¡¯m pissed. Get the other side, and lift him up. Come on.¡± Somehow, Peter decided to follow her instructions and approached Cam¡¯s other side to scoop him up. She watched him put Cam¡¯s arm around his shoulder, and she grabbed the other. ¡°Come on. Up you go.¡± Though with Peter trying to lift him, they now swerved too much to one side, and Cat had to figure out how to correct their stupid sideways Conga line.

    ¡°This is the worst,¡± Peter muttered.

    ¡°Stop leaning--Peter!¡± Cat stared at him, wide-eyed. The whole reason why they swayed so much is because he kept trying to eat the cookie out of Cam¡¯s hand. ¡°You get it after you¡¯re both in your room.¡±

    ¡°Aw....¡±

    ¡°Jesus Christ, you guys suck.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve only given four blow--¡± Cam started to announce before she shushed him.

    ¡°Ready? Come on, back to campus.¡±

    ¡°Do you think it¡¯s called campus,¡± Cam started as Peter and Cat moved forward, ¡°because it¡¯s so campy?¡± She elected to let Peter answer his stupid, drunk ramblings. Somehow, they managed to slide Cam¡¯s feet all the way out of the house and onto the street. Catherine repeatedly thanked God that there wasn¡¯t very much traffic, that the only people that seemed to be out were the people being kicked out of parties.

    ¡°Cam, one foot in front of the other, come on,¡± she urged under her breath. She counted the stripes of the crosswalk to try and give herself some sort of hope that this would all end soon.

    ¡°Why are we here?¡± Peter asked, as if he just realized that they were literally carrying his roommate to campus.

    ¡°Because you wouldn¡¯t do it yourself.¡±

    ¡°Oh. I don¡¯t think...I can carry him on my-shelf.¡±

    Cameron seemed to get a second wind and straightened himself up, pushing against both of their shoulders. ¡°I¡¯m tooooo wiggly!¡± he announced. Well, it seemed like one leg was doing its job, now. She adjusted herself to try and get him to sit up more, to at least attempt to use his feet, but maybe it was better if she had direct control of where they were going. He was too much like trying to herd cats.

    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    ¡°Alright,¡± Cat muttered, rolling her eyes. ¡°Almost there. Come on. See?¡± She gestured in the distance, to the campus lights that shone on the oldest dorm building on campus. ¡°Almost bedtime.¡±

    ¡°Bedtime?¡± he echoed, ¡°or ¡®bed time¡¯?¡± Ugh.

    ¡°You¡¯re going to go to sleep,¡± she said. Her tone was getting more and more firm. ¡°We¡¯re not doing that anymore, Cam.¡±

    ¡°Aww.¡± But he didn¡¯t argue, or even whine. Cat let out a ¡°hm.¡±

    ¡°Cam, are you just that horny all the time?¡± she decided to ask as she dragged him. ¡°Or are you, like...deflecting?¡±

    ¡°Y¡¯mean,¡± he started before he interrupted himself with a burp. ¡°Like¡¯m I filling holes to fill in a hole?¡± He laughed at his own joke. ¡°Yeah, suuure. With anyone that¡¯ll supply,¡± came his slurred voice. His head snapped to his roommate.

    Peter answered before he could ask: ¡°I don¡¯t like guys.¡±

    Cat took the opportunity to ask, ¡°Who broke your heart?¡± but Cam continued laughing at his stupid joke.

    ¡°No guys, ever, Peter? Missin¡¯ ooouut. As individuals,¡± Cam started, now looking forward as they led him toward their building, ¡°guys are great. But as the collective, we are very stupid.¡±

    ¡°One of the smartest things you¡¯ve ever said,¡± Cat agreed. She was getting out of breath. Swimmers were densely-built; she thought he¡¯d be lighter.

    ¡°I¡¯m not stupid,¡± he continued, ¡±we¡¯re stupid.¡±

    ¡°We are Groot,¡± Peter responded, with not that bad of an impression of Vin Diesel. This made Cameron explode into a fit of giggles.

    ¡°Time to be quiet now,¡± Cat whispered as they approached the building. ¡°People are sleeping.¡±

    ¡°People are Groot!¡± Peter announced just as loudly.

    ¡°Oh my God, shut up.¡±

    ¡°Cat is Groot.¡±

    ¡°Peter, I swear to God, I¡¯ll punch you in the face--¡± But saying this only made them both burst into laughter. She rolled her eyes and tried to pick up the pace.

    ¡°What did you even drink?¡± she groaned.

    ¡°Not ¡¯nough,¡± Peter mumbled. His hand reached for the knob of the glass doors to pull them open, but struggled. He gasped. ¡°We¡¯re trapped!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s locked, dumbass.¡± Balancing Cam¡¯s arm on her shoulder, Cat leaned forward with her free hand and her key to unlock the knob, which Peter then pulled open. They shuffled in one by one, sideways, something that put Cam into another fit of giggles.

    ¡°We look like a caterpillar.¡± Then he snorted. ¡°CATerpillar!¡± Peter joined in his giggles, and Cat gritted her teeth together.

    ¡°Quiet time,¡± she whispered as they made their way to the elevator. Peter was cognizant enough to know to push it.

    ¡°Button....¡±

    ¡°Yes, button.¡± If she felt the urge to roll her eyes one more time, they would fall out of her head. She was missing some good sleep to babysit the world¡¯s biggest idiots. At least it was warmer in the elevator. Though Cam seemed to be severely bothered by the jump of the elevator coming to life, and then the sudden stop just seconds later when they made it to the third floor. ¡°Almost there. Come on....¡± She didn¡¯t even know what time it was. But maybe she¡¯d get to sleep a little bit if they behaved and got into bed like not-children.

    Peter was far more successful with opening his door this week, and used the same hand that held his keys to slap the lightswitch. Finally, they stepped into their room, illuminated by the single light overhead. Peter and Cat immediately swung Cameron toward his bed, and the guy finally flopped his arms in front of himself.

    ¡°Wait, what happened to my cookie?¡± As he leaned on his bed, empty-handed, Cam stared in horror. Peter started to laugh until Cat hushed him. She didn¡¯t notice Peter eating it, but considering Cam no longer had it, that had to be what happened.

    ¡°In bed, come on. Shoes off. Legs on the bed.¡± Cam started to move, slowly, to peel his shoes off by the heels. His roommate twisted around to go into his own bed, and Cat ducked down to the ground to untie Cam¡¯s shoes. ¡°Shoes come off when you undo them,¡± she said quietly. ¡°Okay.¡± Now that they were off, she smacked one of his legs. ¡°We¡¯re going to put this leg up on the bed, okay? Jump.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know how to do that.¡± Jesus.

    ¡°Okay, Cam. You¡¯re going to crawl forward onto your bed and I¡¯m going to lift your leg up. Ready? Go.¡± And for whatever reason, God saw it fitting to send her a boon and this bizarre plan to get Cam onto his bed somehow worked. Cam had three out of four limbs on his bed. And while he looked like a spread-eagled polar bear trying to hold onto an iceberg, it was something. ¡°Other leg now. Here it comes!¡± She lifted it off the floor to be beside the next one, and Cam started to mumble about how physics didn¡¯t make sense. ¡°On your side, now. Come on.¡± She shoved his arm, and he thankfully obeyed. He lay on his side, facing her, now reaching for his pillow like a small child.

    ¡°This comfy....¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s okay to sleep now, Cam.¡±

    ¡°G¡¯night.¡±

    ¡°Good night, Cam.¡±

    But right as he shut his eyes, he gasped and popped them open again. ¡°Wait!¡± She didn¡¯t even get to turn around to leave.

    ¡°God, what?¡±

    ¡°What?¡± First, he seemed confused as to why Cat was there, then pointed with his hand to Peter across the room. Cat turned to see his roommate sitting on his bed, shoes off, staring at him.

    ¡°What?¡± Peter asked.

    ¡°Don¡¯t forget.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t,¡± he spat defensively.

    Cat inserted herself into their conversation: ¡°What did he not forget?¡±

    ¡°Shhh--don¡¯t tell--¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t say anything!¡± Cameron cried.

    ¡°What do you have to do?¡± Cat asked, tone flat. A babysitter¡¯s job was never done. Peter waved at her to look away.

    ¡°Turn around. I don¡¯t wan¡¯ you to see.¡±

    ¡°Jesus Christ, Peter.¡± She sighed, but faced back to Cam with her arms crossed as she waited for Peter to do whatever it was he needed to without her looking.

    Peter must have grabbed something out of his nightstand, a pill bottle of some sort, and opened it to take something out. Cat groaned.

    ¡°Seriously?¡± she sounded, the annoyance returning. ¡°You didn¡¯t want me to know you take pills? Are you serious?¡± What a fucking child.

    ¡°Shhh!¡± Cam sounded, poking her in the arm. ¡°He doesn¡¯t want people to know he¡¯s depressed.¡±

    ¡°Who the fuck isn¡¯t?¡± That sounded reductive. She rolled her eyes. ¡°Both my mom and brother are on antidepressants, Peter. You¡¯re not some special snowflake.¡± But as she said it, Cam started to laugh again.

    ¡°You fuckin¡¯ baller!¡± he called to his roommate, looking past her.

    Cat spun around to see Peter sitting up in his bed, with his head tilted back as he drank from a bottle of clear rum.

    ¡°Are you serious!¡± she cried, diving toward him to snatch it out of his hand. A small bit splashed onto his pants, but she was fast enough to take it away from him. ¡°Get your shit together!¡± Who chased antidepressants with rum? Cat grabbed for the lid out of his hands, but he held it away from her.

    ¡°¡¯s nun¡¯ya business--¡± His face still held the scrunched expression only rum had the ability to give.

    She held the bottle away and held out her other hand. ¡°Give me the fucking lid, Peter.¡±

    He coughed a little. ¡°Why do you care?¡±

    She rolled her eyes. ¡°I don¡¯t, but you will thank me tomorrow. Give me the fucking lid.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Because I don¡¯t have a license, and I can¡¯t drive you to the hospital if you get alcohol poisoning.¡± She thought that perhaps her yelling would get her in trouble, but the gentle sound of snoring from Cam¡¯s bed erased that fear. God, she wished that she was sleeping right now¡­.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have a license? For driving cars?¡± Peter seemed shocked, completely missing the point of what she said.

    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you the answer to that if you give me the lid.¡± The fact that that worked was just a testament to how much he didn¡¯t need the rum she now twisted closed in her hand. Good lord, he must have had a few good gulps before she managed to get this from him. The rum barely touched the label. She shook her head.

    Now that things calmed down, and the sound of Cam¡¯s snores lulled them into silence, Cat sighed. ¡°What was that call about today?¡±

    ¡°Hm?¡± Even drunk, Peter seemed like he was trying to get out of answering. He avoided looking at her, instead staring at the stain on his pants.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Cat asked finally, lowering her voice. ¡°On what planet does this help?¡± She gestured with the bottle, the swishing capturing his attention.

    Peter shrugged and let his gaze fall back to his pants. His flushed face fell; his hair, still with grass in it, was so disheveled and unkempt. Everything about his features was soft, uncontrolled. Something somber followed the ebb and flow of his breathing; it made Cat lean forward, as if his sealed lips whispered. But finally, they pursed themselves, and he answered.

    ¡°She chose him,¡± he said with a slight shrug. She wasn¡¯t sure what to think with that answer. He gestured so loosely, let his hand fall back to his knee as if he didn¡¯t care about it. Something in her told her to hold it, just for a moment, but she shoved the thought away when he slowly looked up to her, furrowing his brows in a unique sadness; her chest ached. ¡°My mom.¡± Cat explored the folds of his expression. In a quick breath, Peter shoved the look of sadness away and instead started to stare at his lap. She was hardly aware of her fingers inching forward, hovering carefully closer to his hand.

    ¡°She¡­?¡± Cat prompted, hardly above a whisper, hardly audible over Cameron¡¯s snores.

    ¡°Did you know--¡± he interrupted, suddenly sitting up with a burst of energy-- ¡°that you can disown your own son? That¡¯s a thing!" She jumped back into a straight spine, both her hands white-knuckling the rum bottle, now. In all her tiny blips of information she got from eavesdropping here and there, she didn¡¯t ever stop to consider that his mother might have been involved. ¡°Sho she decided-ed--she decided th-that--¡± At the sound of his voice breaking, Cat¡¯s breathing stopped, as if slower breathing would slow her heart from sinking into her stomach. ¡°Th-that his fucking money was more impor¡¯ant. ¡®Cause I¡¯m ill¡¯gi¡¯ment. Disown me, keep th¡¯ money.¡± He faced her now, seemingly aware that his outburst startled her, but his gaze was too heavy; she found herself staring at the ugly carpet instead.

    What was there to say? Maybe if she was Hannah or Cameron, she¡¯d have something to do. Maybe a hug or something. But this¡­. Cat just stood there, awkward, her gaze now on the rum as Peter stared at her for a reaction. She had to say something.

    She sighed. ¡°You¡¯re mom¡¯s...stupid,¡± she settled on, shrugging. When she looked up to see if her words were okay, he was staring past her, unfocused. ¡°Is this...because of your dad?¡± As she asked, she wanted to punch herself in the face. What was she doing, asking? This wasn¡¯t any of her business. She couldn¡¯t help him, or even comfort him. She couldn¡¯t even bring herself to say anything nice.

    Peter nodded, though still didn¡¯t look at her. ¡°Suicide notes are--hic--hell of a truth serum, hm?¡± Jesus. Every moment he explained, the tale got darker. She shifted her weight from one foot to another, her brows knitted together as she tried to piece the puzzle together.

    ¡°Your dad killed himself?¡±

    Peter sighed. ¡°He comes into m¡¯ life, claiming to be some long lost cousin-uncle-thing, and to not tell my mom--¡± He hiccupped again, though took longer to recover-- ¡°kills himself, dedicates his suicide note to her--¡± Another hiccup, this time with a hand to cover his mouth. Muffled, he added, ¡°I¡¯m gunna vomit.¡± Cat stood up straight, eyes wide as Peter started to scrunch his shoulders. Oh, Hell no!

    By her feet, she dropped the bottle of rum, picked up the recycling bin and dumped the water bottles and old homework assignments onto the floor, and only just in time managed to shove it at his face. The wet slapping of his half-digested dinner waterfalled into the blue, plastic bin. Cat coughed, covering her face in her arm as he heaved. She wanted to let go of the bin, to maybe open the window for some fresh air, but Peter now gripped the bin so tightly, her hands with it, that she couldn¡¯t exactly move from being right in front of him, in the way of the acidic fish scent.

    Peter¡¯s grip on her hands weakened as he hacked, enough for her to slip away and make sure that his were firmly on the recycle bin; finally, she approached the window and lifted it open just enough to let in a breeze. Cam, the helpful alcoholic, snored away while all of this went on. Though even if Cam was awake enough to comfort his roommate, she wasn¡¯t sure if she would take the cue to leave just yet. What was there even to do? Peter literally just spilled his guts to her--possibly the absolute worst choice in the building.

    As he hurled violently, coughing and spitting whenever he had a chance to gasp for air, Cat glanced around the room for anything to help. He sounded like maybe he would be done soon, just based on the sheer volume of vomit that erupted out of him. On top of Peter¡¯s dresser in his closet were a few folded towels; she took the liberty of grabbing one, and took the water bottle from his desk to pour some water on it, then returned to him.

    ¡°Here,¡± she offered, placing the towel on his hand. Head still in the bin, he grabbed for it and brought it to his mouth to wipe away some of his mess. She reached for the bin, then nudged his other arm with the water bottle to indicate for him to take it. ¡°I¡¯ve got it. You can let go.¡± For whatever reason, drunken Peter accepted her help, and she gently set the bin on the floor.

    ¡°You have to take your meds again,¡± she murmured quietly. Peter¡¯s face was stuffed fully into his towel, as if the cotton could wipe away the shame that naturally came with puking in a bucket. ¡°Peter.¡± She stepped around the bin to his nightstand, and reached for the bottle he¡¯d taken earlier to pass to him. Fluoxetine, a generic brand of Prozac. He wasn¡¯t even on a very high dose. Cat sighed and pulled out two capsules as described, then presented them to him.

    ¡°Don¡¯t--¡± he started quietly, ¡°don¡¯t tell anyone.¡± Sloppily, he took them from her hand and just tossed them into the back of his throat.

    For a brief moment, it was as if she spoke to her brother when he first confessed to being on it. Cat frowned, then moved the recycling bin with her foot so she could stand directly in front of him. ¡°Do you take Dayquil when you¡¯re sick?¡± she echoed from before.

    ¡°Hm?¡± Peter furrowed his brows as he swallowed a sip of water, staring at her as if she just grew a second head.

    ¡°That¡¯s all this is.¡± She set the bottle down on his nightstand before looking back to him. ¡°It¡¯s not a big deal. Nearly my whole family¡¯s on it.¡± He wasn¡¯t looking at her anymore. It was so obvious; she stood right in front of him, and he just kept looking around the room, any excuse to avoid her words. But this was important. This was something her brother and her mother struggled with every day, something that if they didn¡¯t understand, could take them away from her any moment. She leaned forward enough to catch his attention, and stared straight into his eyes. He had to understand this. ¡°It¡¯s just like taking an Aspirin every day for your heart. It¡¯s fine.¡±

    After a long, quiet minute of Cameron¡¯s snores filling the air, Peter let out a quiet, ¡°Oh.¡±

    Cat¡¯s pocket began to buzz. It took her a moment to notice, but eventually, she broke away from his gaze and pulled out her phone. Her alarm flashed at her, telling her it was time to get up and get ready for work. She could just toss this thing out the window. After dismissing it, she looked back up to Peter. He slumped against the wall, staring into nothingness.

    ¡°Are you feeling okay?¡± she asked gently. He nodded, though he didn¡¯t look like he heard her at all. Cat reached for the towel and gently pulled at it. He let go of it and slumped further, blinking slowly as he sunk into his pillow. He was going to pass out. ¡°I¡¯m going to put this right here,¡± she said as she set the towel on the far end of his nightstand.

    Finally, Peter let out a slow sigh and settled into fully lying down, but his eyes didn¡¯t close. He just stared, exhausted, straight ahead. Cat hesitated.

    ¡°You...if--¡± Her tongue ran dry. What could she say to make this all better, to make this thickness in the room go away? ¡°You should--if you want to talk later¡­.¡± If he ever wanted to. Why would he choose to talk to her, instead of someone else? ¡°You¡¯re gunna be fine,¡± she settled with saying. But her words went in one ear and out the other. For a moment, she sat there in the silence, heart heavy, frown prominent. Peter¡¯s eyes eventually found hers, tired and heavy.

    ¡°Thanks.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t mention it.¡± Cat pursed her lips together, and slowly took a step back. ¡°I¡¯ve gotta get ready for work. You sure you¡¯re okay?¡± He just nodded to her, and with no evidence to the contrary, she took her leave.

 Chapter 20

    Cat was an absolute mess. Getting ready for work took forever, and she nearly stumbled in late. She¡¯d already been awake for far too long, didn¡¯t get nearly enough sleep, and her mind reeled from everything she just learned. Was she energized or exhausted? Too hard to tell.

    Of all the reasons to be a dick, Peter¡¯s excuses were quite solid. For all of that--for his dad to commit suicide, forcing his mother to out Peter as a bastard, his mother to disown him in favor of saving her marriage...all since August? It was hardly November. And now that Cat¡¯d learned it all, it was something she couldn¡¯t just forget or dismiss. Now any time she looked at Peter, she would know that there was more going on than just an obnoxious boss or unfair professors. Every call he took to a lawyer to try and see his little brother....

    Jeffrey grew frustrated with her this morning. She spent so much time in her head, simple tasks went ignored, to even cleaning out the blender. She just stood there with it in her hand, with the sponge, and he had to physically poke her to wake her up.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± she muttered. ¡°Didn¡¯t sleep last night.¡± But her exhaustion was only half the reason she moved so slowly.

    Cat kept pulling out her phone. She told herself it was to check the time, but even the part of her that was in denial still looked for a new text message from Peter. Some sort of explanation. A request to not tell anyone. Or maybe just...maybe he had more he wanted to say, now that someone knew. Even if it might have been his last choice. But things would be different now. She could be sensitive to him, she could comfort him¡­.

    Noon rolled around with no news from anyone. Did time usually pass this slowly? Cat had wiped down the counter three times already; in fact, she was fairly certain there was a stain on the counter that was there since she started that looked a little smaller, now. Or was that part of the counter she was rubbing away?

    Restless, she turned to Talkative when her manager wasn¡¯t looking. So much in her stomach just whirled with uncertainty. What happened now? What was she supposed to do? Should she check on Peter if she didn¡¯t hear from him yet?

    Her new thread asked, ¡°How do you support someone who isn¡¯t your friend through a tough time?¡±

    PumpkinKing, always the prompt responder, answered, Why aren¡¯t you friends if you want to support them? Good question. Um....

    She opted to message him directly: It¡¯s complicated. Idk, I¡¯m not supposed to know about this stuff, but I found out, and it¡¯s kind of heavy. We don¡¯t really get along, but it feels wrong to just pretend like I don¡¯t know. Now she sounded like drunken Peter, just blurting out all of what was on her mind at once. But Pumpkin was usually quite level-headed and witty, just practical enough, with some sarcasm sprinkled on top to keep her humble. He took too long to respond, though. Almost half an hour.

    That¡¯s tough. It¡¯s good of you to want to help, though. Not a lot of people like that. The three dots indicating his response came and went half a dozen times. But if you care, doesn¡¯t that kind of make you friends? Do you hang out often? Like how did you find out?

    Cat sighed to her phone. There weren¡¯t really any satisfying answers she could give to make this any easier. But that was why she asked for the advice in the first place. While her thread went ignored, she continued confiding in her own version of Jiminy Cricket.

    We just happen to be near each other a lot, she settled with. I just happened to be near when they got bad news. But it¡¯s not like I care or whatever, I just want to...make sure they¡¯re okay. As she typed the words, she saw how ridiculous they looked. Still, though, she pressed ¡°send.¡± Pumpkin was a stranger who didn¡¯t know anyone in her life. If he couldn¡¯t be honest to her, who could?

    Lol sure, you don¡¯t care. Smartass. He continued typing: Maybe you just have to stick to asking through mutual friends or eavesdropping? She wanted to reward him with a laughing emoji, but the lunch rush jolted her out of her thoughts. Pumpkin would have to wait until the stream of customers diluted to a trickle.

    Just when there was enough time to breathe between customers, a shadow darkened her workspace. She jumped and looked up, stomach swirling at the familiar silhouette.

    ¡°Uh, hey,¡± she said automatically. Peter stood with his wallet out, swaying. His hair still had grass in it; thick sunglasses covered his eyes, and his skin was so pale, she could tell he¡¯d been vomiting again. Yikes.

    ¡°Hi. Can I just get a large with an extra shot?¡± His voice, raw and deep, was hardly above a whisper. Cat frowned, but reached for a cup.

    ¡°Did you bring your rum?¡± she asked at a lame attempt at a joke. He just stood there. ¡°For the...shot?¡±

    ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Maybe making alcohol-related jokes when her audience was hungover wasn¡¯t a good plan. He did kind of look like he needed to repeat the names ¡°Bart¡± and ¡°Ralph.¡± Cat just shook her head and started to scribble on a cup. ¡°Espresso--if I wasn¡¯t clear.¡± His tone could certainly use some work. Her stomach jerked as she passed on the cup to Jeffrey.

    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

    Cat let her gaze fall to Peter¡¯s hands on his wallet, dry and cracked from the shifting weather.

    ¡°What?¡± he asked flatly. ¡°I¡¯m not in the mood--if we could just skip this part--¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t remember last night,¡± she interrupted without looking up at him. For some reason, that put an even worse twist in her stomach. Peter sighed.

    ¡°That was my intention when I started, so before you go off on me for not handling my liquor, bear in mind that I can and will throw up in your tip jar.¡± Why did her chest feel like it was on fire? She knew her cheeks were flushed, but she couldn¡¯t stop it from happening.

    ¡°What¡¯s the last thing you remember before waking up?¡± Her question was interrupted by the sharp grinding of the coffee machine. Peter recoiled, one hand holding his wallet, the other clutching the side of his head in pain until the machine finished roaring.

    Peter let out an annoyed sigh. ¡°I don¡¯t know, why?¡± As Jeffrey transitioned to the espresso machine, Cat kept her eyes glued to the counter, glaring at it rather than him. So all of that...all of that was nothing. The heaviness in her heart, the hours waiting to see if he¡¯d message her to talk about it. It didn¡¯t exist in his mind.

    ¡°You don¡¯t remember how you got home?¡± Her tone was the one that could use improvement, now. She couldn¡¯t even pinpoint why this made her angry. Jeffrey returned with Peter¡¯s order, but the minute he set it down, he retreated to go to the other side of the bar to wash some of the dishes. Even now, their words felt acidic.

    ¡°What are you getting at? No, I don¡¯t. I hardly remember even getting to the party. What¡¯s your problem?¡± He was so irritated; he was obviously nauseated by the way he swayed, the way he now gripped the counter to support himself. Cat finally looked up at him, brows knitted together.

    ¡°You don¡¯t remember...helping me carry Cam to bed?¡± How much more would she say? How much more was there to say even if he did remember the night? He didn¡¯t want her to know about any of it. She wouldn¡¯t have if she sent Hannah instead. She wouldn¡¯t have if she never went....

    Peter let out an annoyed huff. ¡°What, you¡¯re upset I didn¡¯t thank you or something? Sorry you had to help me carry Cam. I know he¡¯s heavy. Is that what you wanted to hear?¡± His words molded her hand into a fist. She could punch that stupid frown right off his face--but she didn¡¯t, just stood there, scowling.

    ¡°Take your stupid coffee,¡± she spat, waving at him.

    ¡°How much is it?¡± He now shook his wallet at her until she slapped the counter with her fist.

    ¡°I don¡¯t fucking care, Peter! Just leave.¡± But he didn¡¯t put his wallet away, and instead put more weight on the hand that held the counter.

    ¡°What? What did I say to make you so mad? Did I call you stupid or something? I don¡¯t know, I was drunk, whatever. I¡¯ll say it to you sober: You¡¯re stupid. Better?¡± He was making this so much harder than it had to be. Cat grit her teeth and struggled to breathe out of her nose, but he just wouldn¡¯t leave. How was she supposed to keep her head when he stood there, fuming like that? And now, knowing everything she did...did she even have a right to react? Just because he didn¡¯t remember, didn¡¯t mean she didn¡¯t understand.

    Cat shut her eyes for a full second to try and get herself under control. ¡°Stop being a dick and just leave.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s my total?¡± Why did he care?

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t fucking matter, Peter, just leave!¡± She gestured to the door, now, where another patron hesitated on opening the door.

    ¡°What did I say?¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter, obviously!¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re still offended, I should know--¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not offended, you fucking dickhole, just get--¡±

    ¡°Was it because I didn¡¯t thank you? What is--?¡±

    ¡°Who fucking cares!¡± She screamed now, and the potential patron decided against coffee. Jeffrey had disappeared; the couple eating croissants at the window table were watching without any fear of being caught.

    ¡°You do, obviously!¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter!¡±

    ¡°What is your problem?¡± Peter¡¯s hand flew to his face to rip off his sunglasses, his bloodshot eyes glaring at her as he flinched at the light. ¡°Did I cockblock you or something? You want me to apologize for sleeping in my own bed because you couldn¡¯t keep your knees to--?¡± He stopped suddenly, his eyes just past her. Cat hadn¡¯t realized that she raised a hand, that it shook so violently even though he was out of reach, just itching to smack him. It physically hurt to lower it, but when she did, she finally became aware of the heat behind her eyes, the heaviness of her breath. Don¡¯t. Cry.

    She clenched her jaw so tightly that when she spoke, her voice quivered. ¡°When you¡¯re alone, Peter,¡± she started venomously, ¡°realize it¡¯s because you made it so no one wants to be near you.¡± The twitch of his brow took her back to last night, the sadness that followed his hunched shoulders. But right now, he was so rigid and controlled, that even if she slapped him, she doubted he¡¯d budge.

    The burning in her eyes only intensified when she blinked, and before she even realized it, her shaking fingers worked at the knot of the back of her apron to undo it.

    Jeffrey made his mistake by adjusting himself beside the door frame of the break room. She threw her apron over her head and onto the counter, suddenly panting, and took several unsteady steps back to break away from the hammering in her chest.

    ¡°Cat?¡± Jeffrey whispered. While Peter stood frozen, unable to unroot himself from what she¡¯d said, Cat looked to her coworker just long enough to spit, ¡°I¡¯m sick.¡± And then immediately took her leave out the back door.

    <hr>

    She couldn¡¯t stop shaking. Even by the time she got back to her dorm room, every cell in her body wanted to scream. Had she ever been this angry before? This was a new low, even for someone as detestable as him.

    At the moment, the only thing she could think to do to avoid physically exploding was to throw on her workout clothes and go for a run. Maybe if she was too physically exhausted to feel anything, she could calm down.

    Poor Cam text the group a puking emoji with the question, ¡°Breakfast for dinner?¡±

    Every draft she wrote sounded so bitchy, taking her anger out on him when he didn¡¯t deserve it. She settled with a simple, ¡°Pass.¡±

    But of course a response from the unsaved number went through at the same time: ¡°I''m good.¡± Fucking Peter, ruining even her text replies. And right when she was about to throw her phone on her bed and storm out, a notification from Talkative caught her attention.

    PumpkinKing, sending a simple question mark, wondering what was up. She could vomit.

    ¡°Ignore everything I said. I was overreacting.¡± Satisfied that literally no other message could warrant a reply, Cat grabbed her keys, left her phone, and headed out the door.

 Chapter 21

    Cat stopped by the little gym shack she normally did on every Thursday. Hardly anyone was in it, but she grabbed a heart rate monitor to check out before she strapped it on and took off. Might as well get credit for this.

    To her immense dismay, the track that circled the football field was full of some sort of marathon trainers or something. Matching shirts, lukewarm cheers. She was in no mood to be around anyone, least of all people like that. Her only other option, really was to run around the perimeter of the athletics department, around the fence that closed off the pools, along the backside of the baseball field that was currently being used for kickball, around the gym and indoor basketball courts, the weight rooms. She hadn¡¯t actually gone this far into the athletics department before; she had no need. But it turned out that there were tennis and volleyball courts, too, so that was a nice distraction as she ran.

    Cat opted to completely ignore the thing strapped to her wrist, and to just focus on going as fast as possible for as long as possible--ideally, until she passed out and woke up from this awful nightmare.

    But when would she even wake up, if this was all a dream? To just a couple days ago? Weeks? Would she wake up at home to her little brother yelling at the TV screen because his favorite team did the wrong sporty move?

    Her chest ached; she wasn¡¯t sure when it stopped aching from whatever overreaction she had and when it was because she was probably pushing herself too hard. Sure, she let herself take small breaks to walk, but the moment her mind started to rubber band back to why she was out here, sweating more than she¡¯d ever done before in the hot sun, she forced herself to start running again. The more she ran, the more she could attribute the feeling of her face burning to exhaustion rather than this weird...sadness.

    Halfway around her second lap of the athletics department, just passed the pools and approaching sight of the football field, Cat allowed herself to walk again. Her lungs burned, her legs wobbled weakly. Every part of her physically ached, from blinking against the cold and dry wind, to her skin from being outside without sunscreen, to her shins from running. Even under her arms started to chafe from her compressed shirt rubbing against her when she pumped her arms.

    Maybe this was enough. Maybe this was all the torture she really deserved for now. While others gathered on the lawn to play some sort of Ultimate Frisbee game, her eyes skipped to the duck pond, her old resting spot. She hadn¡¯t been there since she hit her head. Since Peter--

    This thought would have been the signal for her to start running again, to count her steps and feel nothing but the impact of her shoes against the asphalt and the wind cooling her sweat, but her legs refused. Alright. Well. Good enough.

    Walking felt more like falling. Through pure will, Cat dragged herself to the shack to return her heart rate monitor, and finally looked at the results. Well, at least something good came of today. She managed to shave half an entire minute off her initial mile. The subsequent three were nothing to write home about, but the fact that she pushed herself to run that much in one burst was a testament to how great of a motivator anger was.

    Her blood struggled to pump through her veins fast enough: exactly what she needed to get the oxygen away from her brain, to stop feeding any thought. It was just barely over an hour of exercise, really. But it felt like she¡¯d been disconnected for days. Now, maybe, she could handle things better. Or just pass out and sleep through it all. First, a shower. Then, a text to her boss to claim she got food poisoning to cover her ass. Then maybe a nap.

    The day was hers again.

    Still panting, Cat dragged her feet to the dorm building. She kept picturing the warm water, the soap--motivators to keep her legs moving. But they started to twitch by the time she¡¯d even gotten to the doors of her building, and cramping when she tried to pass by the lounge chairs.

    Okay. Sit first. Rest. Then shower, then text, then nap.

    She nearly tripped into the chair. If she wasn¡¯t completely covered in sweat, she might have cared about how many other people had just done what she did: drop themselves into a communal chair that had never seen a fabric brush or Fabreeze bottle. She was too tired to be grossed out.

    As her heart thumped away in her ears, she let her legs melt against the green fabric, arms on either side of her. Maybe this made her feel slightly better now, but tomorrow...oh, she was going to hate life.

    Cat didn¡¯t intend to sit here for very long. She wasn¡¯t even sure how long she did. But she leaned against the back of the chair, her head tilted back, eyes closed and struggled to breathe. Twelve hours ago, she stood in Peter¡¯s room, trying to convince him that he was normal enough, that he wasn¡¯t alone in his struggles. Why did she bother? She should have known he wouldn¡¯t remember. She literally watched him chug even more rum when they got in. And even then--what if he did remember? What did she think would happen?

    So what if she learned some giant secret? Peter would have never told her if he had the choice. That was that. She should have just pretended like nothing happened. It wasn¡¯t like they could magically get along, just because of one conversation. That wasn¡¯t how things worked. Not that she wanted to get along with Peter. There was no point.

    She couldn¡¯t place an accurate description on the way his words affected her earlier. The only thing that made sense in her mind was when she repeatedly told herself how stupid she was. Why did she spend her hours at work, crafting this world in her mind where everything suddenly became so much easier? On what planet did ever finding out a person¡¯s history make them any easier to deal with?

    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Cat sighed to herself. A friendship with Peter would be impossible. Maybe for a moment, she thought she could see what everyone else did. What Hannah and Cam and Kelsey saw when they were with him. How come she was the only one that got his sour, hateful side? Why did he reserve the acidic insults, the frustration, just for her? And the moment she thought that maybe she¡¯d earned what everyone else got...it wasn¡¯t even real. Or maybe it was. But he just took it right away. She wasn¡¯t sure what was worse. She wasn¡¯t sure if she could justify why this felt like a betrayal, or like she was being punished.

    The sounds of the room around her shifted from their regular consistency. People continued their daily lives, but while Cat lay her head back and punished herself for her few hours of bizarre idealism, the energy shifted.

    She knew who it was. Something about the way he walked near her, the way he shifted the weight in the floorboards, was different than everyone else.

    ¡°What?¡± she muttered with her eyes still closed. Peter hesitated, as if he was making sure she was actually awake, and not just snarking at him in her sleep. Cat lifted her head to stare at him, glaring. She repeated herself: ¡±What?"

    The grass was out of his hair, now. He¡¯d managed to clean up a little, take a shower, put some color in his cheeks. Maybe it was the coffee. But his eyes were still bloodshot, his jaw clenched when he looked at her. In his hand, he white-knuckled his phone.

    ¡°What did you say to them?¡± he asked finally. She tried to discern what sort of expression he was trying to hide from her, but she was too tired to think about it very hard. Cat shrugged, gesturing with her hand.

    ¡°What to who?¡±

    ¡°To any of our friends. To Cam. Hannah, Kelsey. What did you tell them I did? What did I do?¡± Now she saw. Worry. His flawless record with their friends was in jeopardy. Paranoia, that finally his dickish behavior would come back to him and he would actually see consequences for his actions. But that was just it. This was the one time that none of that was coming. There was nothing to punish him for.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t say anything to anyone,¡± Cat said flatly.

    ¡°Why are they freaking out?¡±

    ¡°You look like the one freaking out right now.¡±

    ¡°Look.¡± He shoved his phone to her, which was a big indicator for how freaked out he definitely was. Let her touch his shiny life support? Cat rolled her eyes and grabbed it to see what he was talking about. ¡°Scroll up.¡±

    It was the group chat Cam started. Barf emoji, breakfast for dinner request. Apparently leaving her phone in her room was a good move. They¡¯d spent the last hour blowing up the group chat, asking questions, hypothesizing, reacting. Really? To two text messages?

    Kelsey: 0_o okay...

    Hannah: Uh that was...

    Cam: Yikes

    Kelsey: wtf

    Kelsey: did i miss something

    Kelsey: what happened?

    Kelsey: Hello?

    Kelsey: Why is no one answering?

    Cam: uh

    Hannah: uh?

    Cam: shit

    Hannah: so like--no one gunna answer that?

    Hannah: u guys OK?

    Kelsey: what is going on

    Cam: Peter, where you at?

    Hannah: wtf Cat isnt answering

    Cam: I got hit with the bitch button. last i saw peter went to get coffee an hr ago

    Kelsey: well Cat works rn so why would she answer

    Hannah: bc she did when Cam text and she left work half an hour ago. and i just passed by on my way back from the library and jeffrey says she went home sick. im on my way back now.

    Cam: shit they killed each other

    Kelsey: what am i missing

    Cam: she killed him

    Cam: she¡¯s hiding his body

    Hannah: Cam, stop.

    Kelsey: for real what am i missing. Why is murder a theory?

    Hannah: cat isnt here

    Cam: she¡¯s hiding peter¡¯s body!

    Hannah: Cam i will make that a group burial if you don¡¯t stfu

    Hannah: her phone is here too wtf

    Cam: well i WAS joking but now maybe not...

    Hannah: she left for work 2 hrs early this morning. she got a call in the middle of the night and didn¡¯t come back.

    Cam: uh she was with me n peter. got invited to go home after the party and we came back and passed out. or i did. i just remember her putting me to bed and i passed tf out.

    Kelsey: ¡°got invited to go home¡± aka kicked out

    Cam: idk the guy that invited us to leave didnt even live there so idk

    Hannah: and then what?

    The texts were recent, now. As she finished reading, an alert that Cam was calling took over the screen.

    ¡°Gunna get that?¡± The more she read the texts, the more the anger from earlier returned from her memory, tainted her stomach again. If she was physically capable of moving, she¡¯d get out of the chair and go back to running.

    Peter pocketed his phone, staring at her.

    ¡°What did you say I did? Why are they assuming you murdered me?¡±

    Cat rolled her eyes. ¡°Shut up. It doesn¡¯t matter. I went for a run without my phone and that¡¯s all they¡¯re freaking out about. Why didn¡¯t you answer any calls?¡±

    ¡°I was looking for you," he snapped. ¡°Tell me what happened last night!¡± The irritation provided just enough energy to her arms to push herself out of the chair. Her legs shook, threatening to seize. She needed water and food before she got cramps. Maybe this burning in her stomach was enough to get her to the shower. But when she went to try and walk past him, Peter called to her again. ¡°You said it wasn¡¯t a big deal....¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not.¡± She didn¡¯t look at him, but she slowed down. The burning felt more forceful, now, but in a different way. Like when her best friend from middle school moved away and said she¡¯d call, but never did.

    ¡°This--¡± Peter started to stammer, searching for something to get her to answer him. ¡°We argue all the time...but this.... This feels different.¡± Well, he was right about that. ¡°What happened?¡±

    Cat stared to the door, considering his words for a moment. The wringing in her stomach twisted from knots to physical pain, now. The more he was around her, the worse it got. He just needed to leave her alone, to just...stop this. All of this was meaningless. He had so much other pain to sift through, so many worse experiences to lean back on. What was this to him? A blip under the radar, a tiny mercy. For a few hours, she imagined how in an alternate universe, she might have supported him--but the minute she actually saw him, sober and true to himself, it vanished.

    It was better this way. In reality, it would take just one argument for everything to crumble anyway, and it would hurt more than this. She was stupid for thinking there was ever a chance for anything to be better.

    ¡°Cat?¡±

    She blinked and glanced up at him, but could only handle the pressure of his gaze for a moment before she shrunk into herself. She sighed.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t do anything wrong,¡± she murmured before she shoved her way through to the hallway.

 Chapter 22

    The hot water relaxed her muscles almost too much. If she wasn¡¯t acutely aware of the fact that she was in a shower stall that maybe fifty other girls had used this week, she would be tempted to just sit down and let the water fall on her. But the tile grout had hair stuck on it that wouldn¡¯t go down the drain, and the black mold in the corners of the stall told Cat that this was one of those instances where she would have to power through her fatigue or risk getting some sort of unidentifiable disease.

    Her head throbbed, now that she stood under the faucet and let the shampoo run down the drain. This time was different, she thought, Peter¡¯s words echoing in her head. What¡¯s different is that she couldn¡¯t just return to the way she saw him anymore. Sure, he was obnoxious and an idiot--but he was an obnoxious idiot with a lot on his plate, and she was just addicted to poking at his open sores like some sort of psychopath. What kind of person did that? And it wasn¡¯t like she could just change the way things were.

    Their heated banter was a habit, now. It was a comfortable part of her day. See Peter, insult Peter, get insulted by Peter, rinse and repeat. Even worse, whenever she¡¯d learned anything about him, she just used it as a new way to hurt him. A way to see some sort of vulnerable side that he hid from her, rightfully so, because all she did was chip away at him.

    Was he even actually like this? Or was he just reacting to her? Or was he responding from the mountain of stress and pain he had to hold up every day? She was just like this. She didn¡¯t have any excuses. Her parents were both still alive, faithful, and seemingly in love with each other. She just saw her little brother before coming to school. (Though, she now wondered--if this all just arose since August, where had his brother been for a year?)

    Did she really delude herself into thinking she could be friends with Peter this morning? That she would be capable of being decent and sensitive to him? He¡¯d give her attitude once, and then she¡¯d immediately fire back at him--which wouldn¡¯t help anything at all, especially since she had almost no self control when it came to him. And maybe she could pretend to be some sort of sensitive friend for a day, but it would fade too quickly and she¡¯d just make it all worse.

    Somehow, Cat managed to will her muscles into letting her finish her shower routine, and returned back to her dorm, her smelly gym clothes under her arm as she opened the door.

    ¡°Cat!¡± Hannah cried the minute she stepped in. ¡°Where have you been?¡± Oh, God. She hadn¡¯t prepared herself for this. Cat steeled herself with a deep breath, and shut the door behind herself.

    ¡°I went for a run,¡± she answered truthfully. She tried to tell herself to maintain eye contact, but she couldn¡¯t figure out how much was too much or too little, and instead decided to focus on dumping her gym clothes in her laundry basket and focus on putting on her clothes from earlier. But as she reached down to pull on her pants, she saw her hands shake.

    ¡°You went for a run?¡± Hannah echoed. She sounded like her mother. ¡°You left work early to go for a run?¡± What excuses could she come up with? Everyone spoke to each other. She had to assume that Peter talked to them by now, said he didn¡¯t know what was up or why she was being a mythic bitch.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± she said without looking up. ¡°Peter pissed me off, so I left and went for a run. Jeffrey owes me, so....¡±

    ¡°What happened?¡± Ugh, if she heard that question one more time....

    ¡°He just annoyed me,¡± she answered too quickly. Cat pulled her tee shirt over her head, then finally looked to her roommate, who stood, phone in hand, looking an awful lot like a disappointed parent. For whatever reason, this just made the heaviness in her stomach twist in irritation.

    ¡°What did he say?¡±

    Cat grimaced. ¡°Look, we just don¡¯t get along, okay? I know you all think that if you just hung out with us enough that we¡¯d eventually get along or something, but that¡¯s not going to happen, that¡¯s not how life works. So I¡¯d appreciate it if you just--left me out of it.¡± She tried to keep her tone coiled back. It wasn¡¯t Hannah she was upset with--well, sort of. Maybe a little annoyed, but it wasn¡¯t her fault.

    ¡°Um...?¡± Hannah couldn¡¯t seem to do anything other than sound her confusion.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got a lot of studying to do.¡± After flipping her hair to be outside of her shirt, Cat reached for her book bag.

    ¡°I don¡¯t get--¡± Her roommate looked so confused; not even upset, just genuinely trying to piece together information that Cat wouldn¡¯t give her.

    ¡°I mean,¡± Cat said through a sigh, ¡°that if you all want to hang out, go for it. I¡¯m going to be busy for a while, so don¡¯t feel like you have to--choose or whatever.¡± She grabbed her laptop off of her desk to shove in her bag, but the thing now would hardly close, with her books inside it. But she pretended that this was what she was planning all along.

    She went to go for the door again, but Hannah stopped her.

    ¡°Cat, wait--your phone?¡± She turned around, almost surprised, but pursed her lips.

    ¡°I...think I¡¯ll stay disconnected for the rest of the day,¡± she decided on a whim. Nothing like that group chat to drill in the guilt. ¡°I¡¯ve got to focus.¡±

    ¡°What--¡± Her roommate was still blinking wildly, struggling to take in what Cat threw at her. ¡°Did--did I do something wrong?¡±

    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

    ¡°No,¡± she was quick to correct, but she still held the door handle and twisted it open. ¡°I just--I can¡¯t--I....¡± She sighed to the ceiling. ¡°Other than midterms coming up.... Everyone has enough going on. I¡¯m just going to step back from--from everything.¡± From Peter.

    ¡°Okay,¡± Hannah started, taking a step forward. ¡°Just--just tell me what happened. Cam can¡¯t think of anything that happened to bring this on, and Peter¡¯s freaking--¡±

    ¡°He didn¡¯t do anything wrong,¡± she repeated firmly. ¡°God--you think I wouldn¡¯t tell you if he did something wrong?¡± She white-knuckled the door. ¡°No, everything¡¯s fine.¡±

    Before her roommate could stop her again, Cat twisted the knob and showed herself out.

    Not that she expected it to be, but studying wasn¡¯t very helpful or productive. The majority of the time she spent in the library, she spent reading the same pages over and over again, absorbing nothing, learning nothing.

    <hr>

    Despite being unable to keep her eyes open, Cat struggled to get at least something through her head Saturday night. She¡¯d grabbed a croissant from the night shift at Jittery Joe¡¯s to keep herself satiated, but then returned to the review questions immediately and tried to drill every perfect answer in her head.

    She knew that if she went back to her dorm before regular bedtime, Hannah would question her like a detective--and she didn¡¯t know how much of that sort of thing she could handle before she broke. So despite her exhaustion, Cat stayed in the library until she literally jolted herself awake from her head slumping to her book. Okay. Exhausted Cat meant she would fall asleep before Hannah had the opportunity to interrogate her.

    But somehow, Cat must have gotten back to her dorm when Hannah was showering or something, because she was alone, and free to fall asleep as fast as humanly possible.

    <hr>

    Sunday wasn¡¯t that easy, though. Though she did go to the library immediately after changing out of her work clothes, upon returning that night, Hannah was waiting for her.

    ¡°Why are you walking like that?¡± was her first question when Cat opened the door. She grimaced.

    ¡°I¡¯m sore from my run,¡± she answered truthfully. ¡°Like...sore enough to think that maybe I should actually be going to the gym regularly. Embarrassingly sore.¡± Her parents joked that she wasn¡¯t going to be young forever, that sooner than she would even admit, age would catch up. Building good habits now didn¡¯t sound like a bad idea.

    ¡°Which run?¡± Hannah asked as Cat set her stuff down. Oooh, boy. She knew that tone. ¡°The run from yesterday? When you literally left work early, pretending to be sick, to go run because you were so mad at Peter?¡± As Cat picked out some pajamas to change into, she could feel Hannah¡¯s stare at the back of her head. ¡°That run?¡±

    Cat sighed in response, but continued getting changed for bed. Her roommate jumped off her bed to stand in the middle of the room, ready to question.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Cat said finally as she stepped out of her jeans, ¡°that run.¡±

    ¡°I wonder...what could Peter have said to make you so mad?¡± As Hannah started her monologue, Cat let her, and just tied her flannel shorts at her waist before climbing onto her bed. ¡°I went through everything he said with him--and even checked with Jeffrey--¡± Whoa, inappropriate, much? ¡°And yeah, some of what he said was dickish, but not more than usual.

    ¡°And Peter reports your reaction stemming from mentioning how he had no memory of what he did Friday night. And, according to Cam, the only thing that either of them did to you from the time you showed up to the party to when you put them to bed is that they annoyed you.¡±

    ¡°Mmhmm,¡± Cat sounded as she peeled back her sheets.

    ¡°So whatever happened must have happened between Cam passing out and you going to work. There¡¯s two hours of unaccounted time, and Jeffrey says you weren¡¯t upset at the beginning of your shift.¡± The more Hannah continued explaining her investigation, the more Cat¡¯s brows furrowed. Was this impressive or weird? She couldn¡¯t put her finger on it. ¡°So whatever upset you happened before you went to work, and obviously didn¡¯t bother you until Peter reminded you of it. So what happened?¡±

    ¡°Literally, everything you just said, is very extra,¡± Cat decided to say. Hannah scrunched her face together, an unserious frown.

    ¡°What happened?¡± she repeated. ¡°And why is it so secret?¡± Cat settled into her bed, head on her pillow, phone (on airplane mode) on its charger, but didn¡¯t say anything. ¡°Like--I literally can¡¯t imagine anything that could have happened. You say he didn¡¯t do anything wrong, but, like, how is that possible?¡± It was at this point that Cat opted to stop listening, and instead reached to her nightstand to motion that she wanted to turn off the light. ¡°Cat! Seriously!¡±

    ¡°Hannah, seriously,¡± she responded with a lower tone. ¡°Drop it.¡±

    ¡°But everything was going so well! You guys hadn¡¯t had any issues. I mean, not really. You didn¡¯t complain of anything big, he didn¡¯t complain of anything big--¡± Cat flicked the light off and on a few times like an intermission light at a theatre, but Hannah ignored it. ¡°There is literally no reason for you to be upset if he didn¡¯t do anything wrong. But it makes no sense, because that would mean you¡¯re protecting him or something. Which you wouldn¡¯t do. I don¡¯t think.¡± She seemed to be running out of steam, now, thankfully. ¡°But you don¡¯t surprise me that much anymore. I mean, I feel like I know you pretty well--¡± Flick, flick, turning the lights off, then on again. Hannah huffed and put her hands on her hips. ¡°Can we just seriously talk about this?¡±

    Cat sighed, irritated. ¡°No, Hannah. I don¡¯t get what¡¯s hard about that. It doesn¡¯t matter, I said no, just drop it.¡±

    ¡°No!¡± Hannah cried, seemingly desperate. ¡°I need to know what happened! You went from--like everything¡¯s fine, to--to don¡¯t even invite you out if Peter¡¯s going. That¡¯s weird!¡± Cat replied only by turning off the light for real, now, and slamming her head on her pillow. ¡°What! Cat!¡± Hannah stomped up to the light switch to turn it back on. ¡°That¡¯s so rude, I was talking to you--¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Cat snapped, sitting up a little. ¡°You¡¯re talking at me. You don¡¯t care what I get or don¡¯t get out of this ¡®conversation¡¯.¡± She used air quotes to emphasize her point. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t it be enough that I¡¯m just done? Even if I wanted to tell you, which I don¡¯t, it¡¯s not even up to me.¡± That might have been too much. ¡°And I¡¯d really appreciate it if all of you just stopped harassing me.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Hannah caught her. Her head cocked to the side like a puppy, and damn if her big eyes didn¡¯t make her look more innocent than Cat¡¯s annoyance allowed.

    ¡°I mean leave me the fuck alone. I won¡¯t say anything. I¡¯m serious,¡± Cat settled with, tone low. ¡°I said you don¡¯t have to pick between me or Peter, and I mean it. But I¡¯d appreciate that you¡¯d at least support me in this." Hannah deflated, any playful detective persona long gone. She just blinked, wide-eyed, but at least she understood. That much Cat could see.

    ¡°Oh--okay...I¡¯ll stop.¡± Voice soft, cautionary. Cat let out a small ¡°thank you¡± before she flipped over to face the wall, and waited for Hannah to turn off the light, herself. She may have to deal with Hannah being passive aggressive for a few days but...when Cat remembered Peter¡¯s expression, the tiniest little furrow of his brow, the cracking of his voice from when he spoke that night....

    She could handle Hannah¡¯s temporary pettiness to keep that secret...even if Peter was drunk when he asked.

 Chapter 23

    True to Cat¡¯s prediction, the next couple of days were a little lonely. Even though she¡¯d turned her phone off of airplane mode to brace the onslaught of text messages, the rest of the week, she was granted a reprieve.

    The group chat that included her and Peter together remained completely silent, and fell to the bottom of Cat¡¯s chat logs. There was a new one with Hannah, Cam, and Kelsey, but so far, any plans to connect fell through. It was for the best. Cat still held onto a little irritation from the questioning, and she did really did need the extra time to prepare for her human sexuality midterm.

    But after the exam, the pressure didn¡¯t release from her throat.

    Communications wasn¡¯t difficult this week, thankfully. Peter completely ignored her existence, which made it easy to avoid him. Any time he looked up at her by accident, he averted his gaze clearly and obviously somewhere else. It was what she wanted. It was her goal all along. But somehow it was worse than Hannah¡¯s passive aggressive sticky notes about how she ¡°went out¡± or the one-worded texts from Kelsey all week.

    And even though Cat didn¡¯t have to worry about anything Peter-related anymore, she still couldn¡¯t keep her attention on Professor Harlem that Friday night.

    ¡°Catherine Ramos! You¡¯re up!¡± At the sound of her name, Cat¡¯s stomach dropped.

    ¡°Sorry?¡± she asked, blinking out of her daydreams.

    ¡°Your presentation. It¡¯s now. Your topic is¡­.¡± As Professor Harlem looked through a notebook in her hand, Cat stared, wide-eyed at the person that sat beside her.

    ¡°Impromptu extemporaneous speech,¡± the girl whispered. Cat thanked her, and racked her brain to try and remember the requirements for this assignment. She¡¯d just read the syllabus the other day, too, and saw that this was upcoming.

    ¡°Ah, yes!¡± the Professor sat up, having decided, and gestured to Cat to come up to the front of the class. ¡°Your topic is confidentiality.¡± Was this a joke? Was this real life? Cat blinked at the professor as she rose from her seat.

    ¡°Uh--which--which way do you mean, professor?¡± she asked, her voice higher than it should have been.

    ¡°Hmmm¡­.¡± Professor Harlem thought about it the entire time it took Cat to step up to the lectern. ¡°Let¡¯s go with¡­. I want five minutes about your take on whether governmental confidentiality helps or hurts the public.¡± Cat looked to the ceiling, her prayer to God more of a is this some sort of game to you rather than an actual prayer. ¡°Everyone, I¡¯m passing out critique papers. Pass them all to Catherine when she¡¯s done, and keep your names off of them. Ready? Start.¡±

    Cat cleared her throat, and just as Professor Harlem instructed in the guidelines, began by introducing herself, defining the topic, and proposing a thesis. Even though she swept her gaze across the audience, back and forth, left to right, pausing for a few seconds periodically, she could tell that one very particular person watched her very intently. He possibly didn¡¯t agree with her, that confidentiality was better than transparency.

    She spoke slowly, carefully, so as to avoid word-fillers, but the longer she stood up there, feeling the weight of Peter¡¯s stare, the weaker her knees felt. At one point during her random anecdotes to support her thesis, Cat had to stop to remember to breathe.

    ¡°Sorry--¡± she croaked, taking a moment with her eyes closed. It wasn¡¯t nerves. For whatever reason, this useless little speech hardly showed up on her radar. But Peter stared at her with a hard jaw, pursed lips, arms crossed over his chest--he was angry. And he hated her topic, she could tell. It was as if he challenged her right there, in front of the class. Even worse, when she¡¯d closed her speech, he raised his hand.

    Cat let herself look at him fully for the first time since...well, since nearly a week ago. He sat with perfect posture, staring, in his Casual Friday tee, this time covered in an open peacoat. Her heart leapt to her throat when she made eye contact with him, but she swallowed hard and remained stoic, granting him only a short nod.

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t very clear on your thesis versus your anecdotes,¡± he started. He sounded like when they had their first debate, his voice taut and controlled. ¡°Your thesis supports confidentiality, but your anecdotes still cited negative civilian effects, sometimes including deaths. How does that actually support your thesis?¡± She knew he was going to bring that up. Dammit, Peter, she had thirty seconds to come up with a five-minute speech!

    With pursed lips, Cat took a deep, steady breath.

    ¡°We weren¡¯t going to allow questions for this exercise,¡± Professor Harlem said. She went to continue talking, but Cat caught her attention.

    ¡°I¡¯d like to answer to make it a part of my presentation, if you¡¯d allow it.¡±

    ¡°Alright, sure. Keep it brief, though.¡±

    She finally let out her breath and returned her gaze to Peter. Then, she continued, ¡°With a little bit of critical thinking,¡± she started, just to annoy him, ¡°it¡¯s simple to look at the examples and compare them to the what-if scenarios. Take a bomb threat at a concert as another example. When the threat is not verified, but the warning is spread to a mosh pit¡­.¡± She gestured with her hand, frowning. ¡°If you¡¯ve ever had friends and been to a concert--¡± Admittedly an unnecessary addition, but he started it-- ¡°you¡¯d know that groups of people in panic are incredibly dangerous, and sometimes deadly. Had the threat just been leaked without any filtration, you are adding an unnecessary level of danger. Confidentiality will never negate harm, just...mitigate it.¡± Though if keeping Peter¡¯s secret negated it all together, that¡¯d be a win-win situation. He glared at her answer as he drummed his pen against his desk, and she took her leave to sit down.

    For the next forty minutes, several other students endured the torture that Professor Harlem designed, until a handful of students, including Cat, had small stacks of scrap paper.

    ¡°To keep things fair, if you presented today, your paper on this experience is due next Friday. Monday¡¯s presenters get a week, as do Wednesday¡¯s. I¡¯ll send out an email tonight so there¡¯s no confusion.¡± Cat started to glance at her little slips, which were just prompts to list possible improvements for the speech. ¡°Select three pieces of feedback, write a five-thousand word essay on how you plan to implement this feedback in your final speech, and attach the feedback to the paper you turn in. I need physical copies this time, Taylor. No excuses.¡± While Professor Harlem droned on about other specifics of the assignment, Cat tried to find one comment that might have been written by Peter, but she didn¡¯t have a clear idea of what his handwriting looked like. Maybe she¡¯d find it later just based on the attitude he undoubtedly shoved in there.

    The moment class was dismissed, Cat rose from her chair to try and book it as fast as possible out of the classroom. She wasn¡¯t sure if Peter had the gall to stop her after class, but she liked to make sure he got stuck behind the long line of departing students anyway to give herself a head start. It worked for Monday¡¯s and Wednesday¡¯s classes, at least. Plus, with the longer nights fall provided, it was getting quite cold out, now, so it seemed like everyone was rushing to get into some shelter.

    She had more than just Peter as a reason to rush back to her dorm, though. Her English midterm was due on Tuesday and she hadn¡¯t even finished researching, she¡¯d been so preoccupied. Although he lingered in the back of her mind, Cat managed to focus on her essay during her walk back to Casa del Sol. Outline, done. Topic paragraph and closing, done. She could use a few more sources--

    ¡°Cat, wait!¡± Oh, no. No! She picked up the pace as she walked. She folded her arms over her chest to keep her jacket closed in an attempt to make it look like she was rushing to get inside, but the grumbling from Peter was her indicator that she wasn¡¯t subtle enough in trying to pretend like she didn¡¯t hear him.

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    God, how much more of this could she handle? They were relentless!

    ¡°Cat--!¡± The squelching of the grass behind her only got louder and faster, until finally Peter rounded in front of her and cut her off. When she tried to go past him, he held out his arm to block her, and pushed her to a stop right in front of him. Even through her jacket she could feel the heat from his hand. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears louder than the regular cacophony of campus nightlife. Readying herself, she pursed her lips and stared past him. She could do this. She told herself she wasn¡¯t going to say anything, that she would keep Peter¡¯s secrets for him, and she had every intention of following through. But it was harder when the person that asked her to keep the secret asked her for the secret.

    ¡°I gave you space,¡± he said, as if that was supposed to mean anything. Cat remained still. ¡°It¡¯s been a week. We tried things your way, they¡¯re weird, if you just--¡±

    "My way?¡± she echoed, genuinely confused. She looked to him, now, blinking.

    ¡°Yes.¡± He doubled-down, staring directly into her eyes. It made her stomach jump. ¡°Ignoring whatever happened, avoiding people. It¡¯s not working.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not avoiding anyone.¡± She couldn¡¯t keep looking up at him. Cat shuddered and broke eye contact, wrapping her arms around herself even tighter than before, as if it could protect her from Peter¡¯s stupid curiosity.

    ¡°You¡¯re avoiding me.¡± Well...yeah. She didn¡¯t have an answer to that. ¡°You told Hannah that if I was around to not even invite you.¡± She didn¡¯t need reminding. ¡°Actually, from what she told me, it seems like you¡¯re not doing anything with anyone just so you don¡¯t have to see me.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not--that¡¯s just how things happened this week,¡± she struggled to justify. It was maybe a bit of both. ¡°Midterms and stuff¡­.¡± Peter fell silent at her excuses; his shoulders deflated, and even though she had to physically move her head to look up at him, he seemed shorter.

    ¡°Was it that bad?¡± he asked quietly.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Whatever I did or said. You normally just--punch back or hit twice as hard. But--¡±

    ¡°I told you,¡± she interrupted, ¡°you didn¡¯t do anything wrong.¡±

    ¡°But you¡¯re acting like I did, so I must have--¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re the one that asked me not to talk about it, okay?¡± This only seemed to confuse him further; her chest tightened as he squinted at her. ¡°I¡¯m just--¡± Her fingers itched to ball into fists. ¡°I know for a fact that if you were aware of what was going on, if you were sober or--or even a little less drunk, you wouldn¡¯t have chosen for me to be there.¡± That probably applied to every bit of his life, actually. Cat sighed to the grass. ¡°And you asked me not to tell. So I¡¯m¡­.¡± Her shrug didn¡¯t satisfy him. Nothing she said would, either. Finally, she took a step back to allow the night chill to invade their private bubble. Peter was about to reply, but she cut him off. ¡°I¡¯ve got an essay. Like I really, actually do.¡± He swallowed his words, and after a long pause, he stepped to the side and let her leave.

    Hannah wasn¡¯t home when Cat made it back. It was probably for the best. Her mind was still reeling from Peter confronting her; her stomach still flopped uneasily from having to suddenly present in front of people. Dinner wasn¡¯t an option yet. Or if she got hungry, maybe something really light. Maybe even just a protein shake or something.

    Cat sat down at her desk with her dinosaur laptop, and tried to be patient as it booted. Her phone vibrated--Hannah: Dinner?

    It was a little weird that it wasn¡¯t in a group text. Maybe she had more interrogating she wanted to do. Cat sighed. She wasn¡¯t up for that, but she was absolutely up for her roommate to stop being so petty.

    Maybe in an hour? Had a presentation and need my stomach to settle, she replied. Hannah sent back a thumbs-up emoji, and with that to worry about in the back of her mind, Cat returned to her laptop.

    <hr>

    The hour waiting for dinner was quite productive, actually. She nearly lost track of time until Hannah text her again, asking to meet in the common room downstairs. Cat frowned at the text.

    Not coming up? Cat asked her.

    No, just finishing meeting some1. figured since I¡¯m already here I¡¯d just wait for u. Something about this didn¡¯t feel right, but Cat shrugged it off and closed her laptop. After donning a thicker jacket, she grabbed her phone and key to head out. On her ride down the elevator, the hairs on the back of Cat¡¯s neck stood on end. Hannah was planning something. But why she wanted to meet in semi-public raised more questions than comforted any worst-case scenarios.

    As Cat walked down the hallway to the common room, she tried to squint through the glass double-doors to see if she could find Hannah. She thought she could see her blonde mop, but she seemed to be talking to someone. Good God, if it was Peter, she was just going to turn right around--but it was Kelsey.

    Sighing in relief, Cat shoved through the doors.

    ¡°Hi, long time no see,¡± Kelsey announced before stealing a hug.

    ¡°Midterms are murder,¡± Cat mumbled. ¡°Coming to dinner?¡±

    ¡°I already ate. I was just hoping to catch up with you guys for a bit. I haven¡¯t seen anyone all week.¡± Anyone? Cat avoiding Peter meant no one hung out? That didn¡¯t seem right. Maybe her half-assed excuse about midterms held more weight than she thought.

    ¡°Sit, let¡¯s catch up,¡± Hannah proposed, gesturing to one of the tables.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to get anything, but you can still come with us to dinner,¡± Cat offered instead. But Kelsey and Hannah headed to the table. The feeling in Cat¡¯s stomach intensified. It almost felt like there was a box over the table, held up by a stick with a string attached to it. Against her better judgement, Cat slowly lowered herself to a chair at the table.

    ¡°This¡¯ll be quick,¡± Kelsey said through a sigh. Aw, shit. As if waiting for a cue, the door to outside swung open, and bringing in a cold gust of air was no one other than Cam and Peter. Cat sighed.

    ¡°Are you guys really Come to Jesus-ing me right now?¡±

    Hannah stared at her with confusion. ¡°I don¡¯t know what that means.¡±

    Cam answered as he pulled out a chair, the metal scraping loudly against the floor, ¡°It¡¯s another way to say intervention.¡± For whatever reason, he left the last chair for Peter to be right next to Cat. As if that would help anything. She could feel the edges of his coat scrape hers when he sat down. Peter sitting next to her only spiked her blood pressure. ¡°It¡¯s like, ¡®Come to Jesus, you¡¯ve been doing drugs for too long.¡¯¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think that metaphor works here,¡± Kelsey said slowly.

    ¡°Simile, right? ¡¯Cause I said ¡®like¡¯?¡±

    ¡°Anyway¡­,¡± Kelsey continued, ignoring Cam as he looked around the table for a silent answer to his question. Cat protested by staring at the table, and sat on her hands to prevent herself from punching Kelsey in her stupid, traitorous face. Hannah was lucky she was across the table. And Peter? This was his idea, wasn¡¯t it? Cat shot him a glare, but he was busy looking to Kelsey. ¡°Peter¡­?¡±

    ¡°This is really shitty of you guys,¡± Cat interrupted. No one had a response.

    Peter shuffled next to her, his knees just inches away from bumping into hers. She refused to look up at him.

    ¡°I know I¡¯m the one that made you not say anything,¡± he started carefully, ¡°but I need to know. I want to know, okay? I¡¯ll own up to whatever I did. I¡¯ll be completely honest, okay?¡± He was handling her with kid gloves, delicate and careful. He seemed to be the only one aware that if they said one wrong thing, she would just bolt for the door or punch him. Or both.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t want me to know,¡± she reminded with an edge to her voice.

    Peter sighed. ¡°I get that--I get that whatever I did, you think I did it as a mistake, but let me determine that for myself. Sober.¡± She pursed her lips, shrinking under the weight of everyone¡¯s hard stares. Were they just here to dog pile on her? Why was Peter the only one talking? ¡°Cat.¡± His tone made her flinch. ¡°Please¡­.¡± His voice was so soft, she doubted anyone else could hear him say it. She wasn¡¯t even sure if he would have said it, if they could hear him. Cat turned, just a little, to watch his expression.

    Why did it hurt to look at him? That tiny twinge of--of whatever emotion in his furrowed brow was nothing compared to last week. Nothing compared to what would show there if she just blurted out his secrets for the whole common room to hear. And sure, they might have been the only ones there right now, but it was Friday night. Anyone could walk in at any time.

    ¡°What if--¡± he started again, an inch closer to her, ¡°you just try to remind me. If it doesn¡¯t work, fine. If it does, then I can decide for real if...if¡­.¡± Well¡­maybe that would be a suitable loophole. Certainly it was something that was always on his mind already, so perhaps a couple key words would just slightly jog his memory, give him an idea of what he might have said to her. Then he could say, ¡°Oh, yes, you¡¯re right, it was a mistake, everyone leave her alone now.¡±

    Cat sighed and picked at her fingernails in her lap, but pursed her lips and gave the tiniest nod of her head.

    She turned to him, heart beating in her throat, to watch his expression. ¡°You...told me about your phone call,¡± she started slowly. He didn¡¯t seem to understand yet. ¡°Your, um...your mom and dad¡­.¡± Twinkles of recognition started to show in his eyes. ¡°And your dad.¡± To everyone else, maybe it sounded like she was just repeating herself. Peter¡¯s eyes started to widen, but she had one last addition: ¡°And you told me while you¡­.¡± Her eyes flickered to Cam for a moment, as if to give Peter a further hint to the answer before she locked eyes with him. ¡°Um, while you¡­.¡± She hesitated, struggling to find a euphemism that wouldn¡¯t be too obvious. Well¡­. ¡°While you chased your vitamins with a fourth of a bottle of rum.¡± There. Now he knew she knew what he took at night, and everyone else would focus on the whole bit about the rum.

    But she stared at Peter, watched his eyes widen, his lips part in surprise. Finally, he blinked and sat up, straight as a board. He seemed to try to control his reaction, but his expression still fell, his gaze fell to the floor, and he let out the tiniest, ¡°Oh.¡±

 Chapter 24

    The table in the common room remained very silent for a few long, torturous moments. Cat was the one staring at Peter, now, waiting for his response. His breath seemed heavier than before she ¡°reminded¡± him of what he said, and the one arm that rested on the table as he faced her slowly began to draw back as he slumped in his chair.

    ¡°Wow,¡± he sounded. ¡°I¡¯ve...I...didn¡¯t think that¡¯s what happened.¡± Cat shrugged and retreated into the back of her seat. Part of her wanted to smugly rub his response in Hannah¡¯s face, as if to say, ¡°See? Told you!¡± But Peter seemed to be confused again. ¡°Wait, why are you so upset about what I told you?¡±

    When he looked at her, she returned to staring down at her legs. ¡°Because I know you didn¡¯t want anyone to know, especially me--¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not--it¡¯s not that I didn¡¯t want anyone to know, or--I just--I¡¯m still processing....and I didn¡¯t--I don¡¯t know how to¡­.¡± His words were so disrupted, as if he walked back what he said and moved forward at the same time.

    Cat continued, ¡°Exactly, and I¡¯m the last person on the planet that you would have said any of that to if you were sober, so--¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not¡­.¡± He sighed. ¡°It¡¯s not a secret, it¡¯s not some--I mean, I guess it is a scandal--but it¡¯s not that I didn¡¯t want anyone to know, and it¡¯s not that I wouldn¡¯t have ever told you--or anyone.¡± Peter blinked. One of his hands swept some of his hair away from his forehead, pushing it back into its very specific place. Cat let his words pass over her, though. He didn¡¯t mean that, he was just trying to make everything lighter. ¡°I did not think that¡¯s what I did¡­.¡± She was about to ask what he thought he did, but he continued. ¡°Okay--fine. Here.¡± He finally turned to the rest of the table, lips pursed, eyes directly in front of him.

    ¡°I guess this started--this started last year.¡± He spoke quickly, like he was ripping off a band-aid. ¡°My little brother got a scholarship for soccer, and got accepted into this exclusive academy in the UK. There was this journal that did a small expose on him, and they interviewed everyone in the family to say how proud we were and all of that. They took photos of everyone together, all the pomp and circumstance. It came out in...September or something.

    ¡°Obviously, from that, with his name being published and everything, we got lots of...mail, messages, about it, sponsorships. But then I got a letter from someone....said he saw our photo in the journal, and that when he saw my picture that he knew we were related. He said he was an estranged relative, wanted to reconnect with ¡®the family.¡¯¡± Peter gestured broadly. ¡°After he sent a picture of himself, I--could see the similarities, and--and he--¡± He let out a breath. ¡°H-his name is¡­. His name was Peter Finley.¡± Despite his attempt to keep his face controlled and calm, his dimples revealed a heavy frown. ¡°And he said I was named after him before he and my mom had a falling out.

    ¡°So I met with him, but kept it all a secret. When I asked my mom about my name, she got weirdly defensive, so I just--didn¡¯t tell anyone. Then earlier this year, I caught him--Peter--in a lie, so I--this is going to sound weird.¡± Peter took a small break to breathe for a bit, furrowing his brows to find the right words. ¡°I, um, hired a private investigator to look into him, and lo and behold, a couple months later, turns out he¡¯s my biological dad.¡± The dimples returned for a flash of a moment when he gave a fake smile, but his grimace kept them around. ¡°I confronted him about it--yeah. He claimed he wanted it kept secret so that I would get my trust fund when I turned 25. I thought he was--I thought he was trying to scam me into giving him a cut.

    ¡°We fought, and apparently--¡± Peter stopped again; he shuffled his feet, clenched and unclenched his fist on his leg. ¡°Apparently that night, he¡­.¡± Though he tried again, Peter shut his eyes tightly. Cat¡¯s heart hammered in her chest as she watched him clench his teeth, the way his brows knitted together in that familiar agony she saw last week.

    Somehow, she couldn¡¯t really figure out when it happened, but her hand had made its way onto Peter¡¯s fist, gentle, her thumb rubbing his back and forth. His hands were still so warm, even after being outside. Cat didn¡¯t even realize it was there until he loosened his fist and opened his fingers, enough to accept hers into his palm. She stopped breathing altogether, now. He found his strength, collected himself while he squeezed her hand and continued, ¡°H-he dedicated his suicide note to my mom and jumped off a bridge. And so my dad--¡± He shook his head-- ¡°my mom¡¯s husband, Joe, found out. So he kicked me out, threatened to divorce my mom--and as of...November 2nd, I was disowned by both of them.¡± His voice ended softer than it began; by the time he finished speaking, his grip loosened, and Cat suddenly became very aware of every nerve in her body, where they were, what was going on.

    She sucked in a breath, blinking in the rest of the scene. All their friends stared at their own laps, at the table, at their hands on the table. No one noticed. Cat immediately snatched away her hand to sit on it, hoping that maybe if she actually forced herself to be stoic and controlled like Peter, she maybe could be. But the minute she took her hand away from his, her body shrank on itself, the sinking feeling dragging her through her chair.

    She could feel his eyes on her, watching carefully as he asked, ¡°Is that what I told you?¡± Cat shut her eyes tightly, but gave the tiniest nod.

    ¡°More or less,¡± she squeaked out. Maybe if she was better at pretending, she wouldn¡¯t have freaked out in front of him at Jittery Joe¡¯s. Maybe he wouldn¡¯t have had to live through all this again.

    ¡°I¡¯m such an asshole,¡± Hannah muttered from across the table. She didn¡¯t look at anyone, but her eyes were wide, guilty and sad. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry¡­.¡±

    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Sorry?¡± Peter echoed. ¡°No.¡± He sat up with a sudden breath, stealing everyone¡¯s attention as he addressed them. ¡°This--this isn¡¯t a secret. I just didn¡¯t know how to bring it up.¡±

    ¡°You think you¡¯re an asshole?¡± Cam asked, nearly ignoring what Peter said. ¡°I was there when he said this. I literally slept through it. Jesus!¡± Now he covered his face with a hand; Peter¡¯s continuous protests went ignored.

    ¡°And Cat!¡± Kelsey interrupted. Cat flinched, but looked at her, dreading. ¡°Are you Fort Knox? Holy shit!¡±

    ¡°That--this--wow.¡± Hannah shook her head. ¡°This--I¡¯m so sorry you¡¯re going through this, Peter¡­.¡± The table¡¯s reactions simmered a little, melting into a melancholy silence.

    ¡°Is there--anything else?¡± Kelsey blurted. ¡°That you want to talk about, I mean?¡± Peter shrugged.

    ¡°I guess for context it¡¯s important to know that my little brother, Oscar, is seventeen this year, and back from the UK. I¡¯m not allowed to see him, though, because--¡± He let out a dry laugh, ¡°Joe put a restraining order against me. Oh--and I have an older brother that I don¡¯t get along with that lives across the country. Not much of a loss there.¡±

    ¡°The dreaded middle child,¡± Cam said with dramatization. It was enough to get Peter to smile a little. ¡°Did you go by Peter before¡­? Or did you go by Jerard?¡± This time, he got the silent ¡°J¡± right. Peter shook his head.

    ¡°I used to go by JP. But...after...yeah. Jerard is my dad¡¯s--or I guess my mom¡¯s husband¡¯s Spanish name, so I¡¯d go by JP to prevent any mix-up. But, yeah. Going by ¡®Peter¡¯ is...new-ish...since he died.¡±

    Hannah stood from her chair suddenly, the ugly screech turning heads as she said, ¡°I demand a group hug. Now.¡± Ugh. Why did anyone ever participate in those? Cat rolled her eyes as Kelsey and Cam stood from their seats. ¡°Come on, everyone up. Everyone.¡± Peter reluctantly got out of his seat, but it took until Hannah¡¯s voice lowered before Cat followed suit.

    ¡°Do I have to--¡± Before Cat could complain, Kelsey barreled toward her, arms open, and shoved her right into Peter with an oomph. Her shoulder crashed into his arm, and before she could even shout in pain, Cam appeared and squeezed himself right in front of Peter and wrapped his arm around Kelsey¡¯s back. Hannah attacked from somewhere behind Peter, but now Cat was sandwiched awkwardly between Kelsey and Peter, her arms squished in front of her and one of her legs still trapped by a leg of one of the chairs.

    ¡°Group huuuug!¡± Cameron announced, muffled. But it wasn¡¯t so much of a group hug, as it was Cat and Peter being squished together while Hannah, Kelsey, and Cam bound them like a boa constrictor. That was sort of how group hugs went, though. The idea and intention was really sweet, but physically, just not worth the elbows in faces or faces in faces or--really, if faces weren¡¯t involved with group hugs, Cat might be more open to them.

    This one wasn¡¯t that bad, for that. But her head was shoved into Peter¡¯s chest, and one of his peacoat buttons was right by her eye, as if threatening to stab it out. If she tried to turn, Kelsey¡¯s nose would poke out her other eye, so she stayed still, like a deer in headlights while her friends started to spew words of support to Peter, everything from ¡°you¡¯ll be okay¡± to ¡°we¡¯re your family now, fuck them.¡± Peter laughed; Cat could watch his Adam¡¯s apple bob, being this close. She could smell his laundry detergent, undertoned by his natural musk--and, of course, the slightest bit of chlorine. She¡¯d smelled this scent before...but she couldn¡¯t put her finger on where. Maybe he wore a cologne that she¡¯d sampled at the mall, or showered with body wash she¡¯d smelled before. It suited him, whatever it was; light, hardly detectable. Oddly comforting.

    ¡°Okay, I can¡¯t breathe,¡± Peter said through strain. ¡°Cat¡¯s elbow is in my diaphragm--!¡±

    ¡°Sorry¡­.¡± But as she apologized, their friends released them, smiling, patting Peter on the shoulder, stepping back to give them room to move.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± Peter said when they all finally had a suitable amount of space between them. ¡°I don¡¯t know why I didn¡¯t say anything sooner. I actually...kind of feel better.¡± Oh? Well, that was nice. As the group slowly spread away from the table, all standing in a circle, Cat shyly looked around their friends, waiting for someone to dismiss her from this intervention.

    ¡°Do you wanna go out?¡± Kelsey asked suddenly, gesturing to the group. ¡°Maybe get some drinks? First round on me.¡±

    ¡°Oooh!¡± Hannah agreed, pulling out her phone, ¡°Let me call an Uber.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to go quite as hard as I did last week,¡± Peter said weakly. Cam agreed with a chuckle.

    ¡°Just a couple. Maybe karaoke,¡± Kelsey said, waving a hand. Cat wanted to laugh, but she just pursed her lips.

    ¡°Sorry, I¡¯ve got to get to bed. You know...work...but take a shot for me.¡±

    Hannah, tapping her phone with frustration, sighed. ¡°I¡¯ve got no service in here. I¡¯ll have to go outside. Cat, we¡¯ll make sure to plan the next outing for like a Thursday night, okay?¡± After a quick wave, Hannah started her way to go outside, and Cam waved goodbye to follow.

    ¡°Yeah, next time,¡± Kelsey agreed. ¡°Maybe next week. We can do a Friendsgiving thing or something.¡± And with that, she started her way to the door, too.

    Cat was about to step away, to go back to her dorm to just eat a granola bar and go to bed, but Peter hesitated. His bated breath froze her in place, but when she looked up at him, he seemed to struggle forming what he wanted to say.

    ¡°I, um¡­.¡± He glanced over his shoulder to their friends, who hadn¡¯t noticed he wasn¡¯t with them yet. ¡°Just wanted to say thanks--for keeping it all to yourself.¡± Peter¡¯s eyes took their time finally meeting hers. She shrugged and fought the urge to look away; for whatever reason, no matter how soft his expression, it always felt too heavy. He studied her face quickly as his words finally found their way out of his lips. ¡°You weren¡¯t my first choice of people to tell, no--but...now that I know...how...you¡­.¡± As she found it easier to watch him, he seemed to find it more difficult to keep looking at her.

    ¡°How I can actually keep a secret when I¡¯m asked to?¡± she finished for him with a raised brow. Peter shrugged.

    ¡°Well--¡± He glanced over his shoulder for a moment to see Cam standing by the door, hand on the handle, watching them. Cat¡¯s heart skipped a beat. ¡°If I ever need to tell someone something, and for them to keep it a secret, I think I¡¯d opt to tell you first. You¡¯re...reliable.¡± She had no idea why, but for whatever reason, it made her cheeks burn to hear him say that.

    ¡°So next time you get disowned for being a bastard, I¡¯ll be the first to know--when you¡¯re sober?¡± She wasn¡¯t sure if he would, but Peter actually let out a laugh at that.

    ¡°Sure. Next time.¡± He finally took a step back to start his departure, but Cat was the one to hesitate now.

    ¡°Peter,¡± she called before he could turn away fully. ¡°What did you think you did that was so bad?¡± When she asked this, he seemed to slow down; he looked at her, but his gaze rested on her lips, watching her form the words.

    ¡°I, uh--¡± It took a while, but his eyes finally looked up to hers; Cat held her breath. He gave a small shrug, a sheepish smile, and just said, ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. This worked out alright.¡±

 Chapter 25

    Cat sat on her bed in her pajamas, braiding her hair to the side; there was a lot to think about from the events of today, but for whatever reason, Peter¡¯s weird answer to her question still echoed in her mind. Everything worked out okay from this, sure. But still, the way he struggled to even continue his story, the way he squeezed her hand¡­.

    Cat finished her braid and threw it over her shoulder, sighing heavily. This was strange. This whole week was strange. And her mind kept jumping back to how her hand still tingled from when he squeezed it--and why did she even do that in the first place? She had no idea how he¡¯d react, and the fact that he didn¡¯t just vomit right there from touching her was a small blessing. They¡¯d never intentionally touched before, and there she went, just impulsively grabbing his hand after spewing out his secrets for him to re-live.

    But he didn¡¯t mind her knowing everything, it turned out. And he didn¡¯t regret telling her, even if he didn¡¯t have a say in it at first. And he squeezed her hand, as if thankful that she even touched him in the first place. God, what was going on?

    ¡°What¡¯s so hard to understand?¡± asked Peter. She jumped, letting out a small yelp as she looked across the room. Peter stood there, leaning against the frame of Hannah¡¯s bed, still in his jacket although the heater was on. Cat furrowed her brows.

    ¡°What are you--how did you get in here?¡± she stammered, glancing to the door. It remained shut; but even if it was open, she would have heard it. Peter shrugged at her, as if he didn¡¯t actually have an answer for her.

    ¡°You wanted me here,¡± he said simply. That didn¡¯t make any sense. He was supposed to be out with Kelsey and Hannah and Cameron--what was he doing in her room? ¡°I just appeared here,¡± he continued. He took a few steps closer, breaking away from Hannah¡¯s bed frame to stand in the middle of the room. Cat¡¯s heart jumped to her throat. Could he hear her thoughts? ¡°Of course I can.¡± Her eyes went wide. ¡°How do you think I know all I do?¡±

    She furrowed her brows and shook her head at him. ¡°You don¡¯t know all that much.¡± His smile lit up his face, dimples highlighting either side. He seemed to enjoy her slight insult. Well, at least one thing was normal.

    ¡°I know enough.¡± Pleased with himself, Peter stepped up to her, just inches away from her knees, challenging her. On their own accord, her teeth bit her lips together and her knuckles turned white against her comforter. Why was he getting so close? Why could she smell his detergent or body wash or whatever it was again? She drew a shaky breath as she stared at him, and he continued inching closer, his hands eventually resting gently on her knees. His fingertips pimpled her skin, giving her goosebumps.

    ¡°L-like what?¡± she asked finally. Her voice was quiet; she struggled to keep her eyes locked with his, but he gently pried her knees apart so he could stand closer to her, so close she could feel his breath, feel the heat from his legs transferring through hers. She watched his breath escape his lips slowly, confidently. He was so certain, and she could hardly stop herself from shaking.

    Peter continued smiling at her, inching closer and closer. She closed her eyes until she felt his breath on her neck, his lips right at her ear. Finally, he answered, ¡°I know that you want me.¡±

    A shiver ran down her spine, manifesting trembles in her hands that overtook her grip on the comforter. His soft lips pecked just below her neck; she tilted her head back to give him full access and accept his affection. His hands slowly trailed up her thighs until they met her hips, and with a gentle nudge from him, she scooted further to the edge of the bed, until she could feel his belt through the thin fabric of her pajamas. Peter¡¯s fingers gripped at her, finding the slit of skin from where her shirt met her pants, and dipped beneath the soft waistband. His skin was so warm against hers, leaving trails of fire every inch they went. When he pulled her again, desperate to eliminate any space between them, a small sigh escaped his lips.

    Cat finally released her comforter and gave permission to let herself react to him; she ran her fingers up his arms, to his neck, where the collar of his peacoat remained open enough for her hands to touch his skin. Another kiss from him encouraged her to slide her hands under his coat on his shoulders to push it off; she thought he¡¯d have to let go of her for it to drop away, but for whatever reason, it dematerialized and he still held her, this time pulling her chest to his. His kisses trailed further up her jawline until he hovered just above her lips, waiting, asking. Tingles shot through her arms and her fingertips, where she pulled at his neck to bring him closer.

    A sigh of relief washed over her when she finally kissed him, his lips so gentle and full against her own. Perfect, molding in perfect time with her movements and desires. His hands traveled up her back, underneath her shirt as a gentle way of asking to remove it; before she could adjust to help him, it was gone, and so was his. Pressing against his bare chest sent shocks of electricity through her veins, pulling her into a hypnotic bliss. She could feel his heartbeat as she explored the soft skin on his neck, down to the small, inch-long scar she hardly got a glimpse at before. Through her moan, she urged him to explore her skin just a bit more. Every part of her he didn¡¯t touch ached, pulsated, just waiting for him to hold her or kiss her there. Her legs wrapped around his waist; he shifted, pushing her back against her bed until he could climb up with her. Just as she wanted the rest of the barriers between them gone, they, too, disappeared, and finally his bare hips hovered just above hers. Her breathing was so fast; the only relief was seeing how fast his was, how he stared at her with his brilliant, green eyes and couldn¡¯t seem to bring himself to look anywhere else. Pressure in her throat came to a peak. Cat arched against him, the anticipation finally reaching every sensitive part of her. If he didn¡¯t keep touching her, she would undoubtedly explode.

    ¡°Do you want this?¡± Peter asked as he buried his face in her neck. He gently nibbled at her earlobe, as if to distract her from one of his hands that rubbed her hip and traveled to her inner thigh. ¡°Do you want me?¡± Cat dug her fingernails into his back and let out a small moan, her whole body trembling from his contact.

    ¡°Yes,¡± she sounded, almost desperate, throwing her head back. ¡°Please....¡± But as soon as she asked, everything vanished.

    The air was cold; his warmth was replaced by her comforter, and when she drew a breath, every building feeling she had began to subside in the most disappointing way. Where did he go? ¡°Peter?¡± she asked to the air.

    ¡°Sorry--I thought I was being quiet.¡± Reality crashed down on her when her eyes flew open. Cat stared at the dark ceiling of her dorm room, and when she looked over to his voice, she found the darkened shadow of Peter with Hannah as she struggled to climb on the bed, illuminated just by the bit of campus light that snuck through the closed blinds.

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    ¡°Sorry, Cat!¡± Hannah murmured. ¡°I hurt my ankle.¡± And before Cat could even wrap her head around what was happening, another shadow appeared in the doorway.

    ¡°I found ice,¡± Cam whispered. ¡°Oh, Cat¡¯s awake.¡± He approached their nightstand to flip the switch. Cat shielded her eyes from the light and squinted to the other side of the room.

    Hannah, thankfully not drunk off her ass, sat on her bed, accepting a bag of ice and some paper towels from Cam. Peter took a step back to give Cam more space, and turned to Cat.

    ¡°Where¡¯s your--are you okay?¡± he asked. No, she wanted to shout. But she lay there, struggling to slow her breathing as she stared up at him wide-eyed. God, her heart. Her heart, her thoughts--that dream. And his eyes--it was so realistic¡­.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± she managed to say, but she covered her face with her hand. ¡°Just a dream.¡± She tried to let out a slow breath, but her lungs almost burned, as if she couldn¡¯t get enough air.

    ¡°Oh--sorry. Um, where¡¯s the Tylenol?¡± As Peter looked around, Cat squeezed her eyes shut.

    ¡°Um, my desk drawer, the first one, I think,¡± she muttered. At the sound of him shuffling, she struggled to get her heart rate down. It felt so real...which was why this was such a problem!

    ¡°Thanks, guys,¡± Hannah murmured, accepting her water bottle and Tylenol from them. ¡°See you tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°G¡¯night,¡± Cam called, waving. Peter mumbled something similar before they shut the door.

    ¡°Sorry for waking you up,¡± Hannah said. Cat still shut her eyes, covering them with both of her hands now. ¡°Are you okay?¡±

    ¡°Dream,¡± Cat repeated breathlessly. She couldn¡¯t get the images, the ghosts of his touch out of her head. She¡¯d think of a moment from her dream, feel flush, and then a cold breeze from the window just whooshed it away. Good lord!

    ¡°Nightmare?¡±

    ¡°Uh...no.¡±

    ¡°Want to talk about it?¡± Hell no! Or maybe¡­.

    ¡°I, uh¡­.¡± She could say what it was without including who it was. ¡°It was one of those kinds of dreams.¡± Hannah adjusted the ice on her ankle, but Cat could also hear her shift around so she could get ready to go to sleep.

    ¡°What kind?¡± she asked.

    Cat hesitated. ¡°Um...almost a dirty dream.¡±

    All noise from Hannah¡¯s side of the room stopped, and Cat finally lifted her hands off of her face to look at her. Hannah had a huge smile.

    ¡°Ooooo!¡± she sounded, giggling. ¡°Almost, though? Did we interrupt it?¡± Cat nodded, and Hannah¡¯s smile faded. ¡°Oh, no! I¡¯m sorry! We were really trying to be quiet!¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s--it¡¯s better--it¡¯s fine. It¡¯s fine.¡± Though her hands still trembled.

    ¡°Who was it with? Was it with Cam? That¡¯d be pretty freaky, fucking Cam in a dream and then seeing him in real life, all of a sudden--¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Cat answered quickly. Though it was close enough, and she was absolutely right about how freaky it was to see someone in a dream, only to wake up and see them again. ¡°Not Cam, it was...um¡­.¡± Who could she lie about without having Hannah read too much into it? ¡°Just some stranger,¡± she settled with. Hannah¡¯s smile returned.

    ¡°Like...an attractive hobo?¡± God, she had no idea. She had no clue that this ¡°attractive hobo¡± Cat freaked out about nearly a month ago and this ¡°some stranger¡± were the very same person.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± was all Cat decided to say.

    ¡°I love those dreams. Anyway, sorry for waking you up--let me turn off the light.¡±

    ¡°How¡¯d you hurt your ankle?¡± she asked when the room returned to darkness. Hannah huffed.

    ¡°Cat, sometimes I wonder if you ever notice my shoes. They were so cute today...but also inappropriate for government-funded parking lot asphalt. Cam and Peter had to help me walk all the way back here.¡±

    ¡°Yikes,¡± Cat sounded with the appropriate amount of enthusiasm. ¡°Kelsey go back to her place?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, she couldn¡¯t help me. But she¡¯ll be by tomorrow to check on me while you¡¯re at work. We¡¯re all set.¡±

    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s good.¡± Though Cat pretended to listen to what Hannah said, her mind still churned, still took her back to the dream. How the hell was she supposed to look at Peter now?

    <hr>

    Her short term plan was essentially not to look at Peter in any way, shape or form. Think of him? Nope, too close to remembering her dream. She¡¯d gotten pretty good at repressing thoughts and memories, right? What was one more, especially if it wasn¡¯t real? Maybe if she just treated it like a regular nightmare, that would help.

    But the problem was that it wasn¡¯t a nightmare, and that it was actually--nope! Focus. Work. School.

    Midterms, for crying out loud! She had a paper for English, a paper for communications, some practice tests for stats.... Thankfully, she¡¯d logged enough miles to get her a guaranteed A in her running class. She¡¯d continue running for good measure, and because of how incredibly sore she was after her last serious bout of running, but she didn¡¯t need to wear the heart monitor, or worry so desperately on her time or heart rate.

    Everything was fine. Monday morning, instead of looking at Peter, Cat was lucky enough to have such a huge morning rush at Jittery Joe¡¯s (probably due to midterms), that she hardly had time to wave at Peter as he continued their usual arrangement: walk to the front of the line, drop off exact change, and his drink was ready for him ahead of time. He didn¡¯t seem to notice that she barely glanced at him; or at least, he didn¡¯t think anything of it, because she was too busy preparing an order and taking another at the same time that he approached.

    The distance helped. The less she saw him, the less she thought of him.

    And, as usual, Talkative saved the day. Apparently, having dirty dreams featuring less-than-ideal people was common. A sign of stress. Thank God. An even better distraction was PumpkinKing, who seemed to be getting bolder and bolder.

    Cat asked him Monday night after communications, You always seem to know when I post. How?

    And somehow, his reply wasn¡¯t creepy, and only made her feel stupid: Because I subscribed to you, duh. And after he explained what ¡°subscribing¡± was to her, Cat found the little notification symbol on a person¡¯s profile, right beside the message button. Now Cat got notifications on her phone whenever PumpkinKing posted, too.

    So you always want to know what I¡¯m talking about, huh? she typed to him that night as she got into her pajamas.

    You have good takes, what can I say? Besides, it¡¯s like a reminder to smile every so often. You¡¯re funny. Cat snorted. Thankfully, Hannah was at the library, cramming for a test tomorrow morning, or she¡¯d have to explain herself.

    Are you hitting on me? she dared to ask.

    Only if you like it...? His response made her cheeks burn.

    I¡¯d probably like it more if you were any good at it.

    Pumpkin awarded her with a laughing emoji reaction and a gif of a famous superhero actor clutching his chest in pain. To ease his suffering just a little bit, she added a winkie smilie face.

    Should¡¯ve known not to play with fire!

    Be sure to apply a cool compress and protective ointment onto that burn. Now she was the one being cheesy. But he still gave her a laughing reaction.

    The majority of her social interaction was reduced to Talkative during the week, due to the ups and downs of midterm pressure and the struggle of finding any time to hang out with her friends. Apparently most of Hannah¡¯s were on Wednesday and Thursday, and everyone else¡¯s spread about that. Kelsey revived the group chat that included Cat and Peter with questions about a ¡°Friendsgiving.¡± Cat wasn¡¯t sure how well that was going to go, considering she didn¡¯t get to go home, and Peter--well, he didn¡¯t have a family to celebrate real Thanksgiving with. Kelsey¡¯s well-intentioned plan didn¡¯t really sit well for the people she thought to honor. They eventually settled for Mexican food on Saturday.

    But, even though she was still a little bitter about the whole Thanksgiving thing in the first place, Cat wasn¡¯t going to pass up an opportunity to eat Mexican food from an authentic restaurant. Besides, she did miss having dinner with everyone all together. Because of the mixed up schedules from tests and study groups, Cat was only able to have dinner once with Kelsey and once with Cam. She never thought to see if Peter was available either of those times...and no one made her ask, so she didn¡¯t.

 Chapter 26

    By the time Saturday night rolled around, Cat was ready to face Peter again. She¡¯d seen him, in passing, enough times so that now she didn¡¯t even really think about the dream she had every time she saw him. Now, it was at least the second thing she thought of. Progress.

    Cameron seemed weirdly nostalgic by the time they¡¯d all settled into their table at La Hacienda.

    ¡°Can you believe the semester is almost over? Wild....¡± He shook his head. ¡°I mean, we just have a few full weeks left until finals.¡±

    ¡°Ugh, don¡¯t say that word,¡± Kelsey grumbled as she stabbed at her enchilada.

    ¡°What word? Weeks?¡±

    ¡°No, you dumbass, finals.¡±

    Cat looked up to Kelsey. ¡°Midterms didn¡¯t go well?¡± she guessed, frowning. She wasn¡¯t so sure about her own, either. Kelsey just rolled her eyes. ¡°Alright. What about for everyone else?¡±

    ¡°I fucking crushed it,¡± Cam announced, completely ignoring Kelsey¡¯s reaction. ¡°This was the most prepared I¡¯ve ever been for midterms. It was pretty great!¡±

    ¡°That means you failed,¡± Kelsey said to him. ¡°That¡¯s what happens. You get over-confident and you fail.¡±

    ¡°Did you already get your results?¡± Cat asked with wide eyes.

    ¡°For one of them. Bombed.¡±

    ¡°What class?¡± Peter asked. He sat across from her this time.

    ¡°Don¡¯t make fun of me, but it¡¯s just a generalized algebra one. I suck at math.¡± The table let out small sounds of empathy.

    ¡°You could¡¯ve come to me for help,¡± he murmured. ¡°You know I¡¯m a math major.¡±

    ¡°Still?¡± Cat blurted, raising a brow. ¡°I thought you were changing to PE.¡± She knew it was kinesiology, but she couldn¡¯t help herself.

    ¡°Kinesiology, and still working on that,¡± was his response to her before he returned to Kelsey. ¡°I¡¯m a registered tutor.¡± Cat¡¯s attempt to annoy him didn¡¯t pan out.

    ¡°You are?¡± Kelsey seemed surprised. ¡°Why don¡¯t you work at the Tutoring Center on campus? Probably pay better than cell phone repair....¡±

    ¡°They have a policy not to hire transfers. I had to be just a student first. I applied for next semester, though.¡±

    ¡°What about your other job?¡±

    ¡°Kind of hanging on by a thread there. Can¡¯t stand it.¡±

    ¡°Why not?¡± Hannah cut in this time, genuinely curious. ¡°You like that kind of technical stuff, the science and stuff.¡± Eloquent, Hannah. Peter frowned.

    ¡°Because the answer is always that someone just downloaded porn from a sketchy website, or they dunked it in the toilet and didn¡¯t say they did. Or there¡¯s not actually anything wrong and they just want a discount on the new model. It¡¯s not great work.¡±

    ¡°Not exactly saving lives?¡± Cam pressed with a full mouth. She was certain he didn¡¯t mean it that way, but Cat flinched. Saving lives.

    ¡°Not exactly fulfilling,¡± corrected Peter with a flat voice.

    ¡°You could be a barista,¡± Cat muttered. ¡°At least you affect lives at all.¡±

    ¡°I guess.¡± Bastard wasn¡¯t supposed to agree! That was kind of rude! She scoffed at him, but he continued. ¡°Anyway, I¡¯m hoping to just go through their training during winter break and do that next semester. Tutor, I mean. If I touch another phone that someone shoved down a toilet pipe, I might contract e-coli.¡± Might give him some humility, Cat thought sourly.

    ¡°Well,¡± Kelsey said through a sigh. ¡°Let¡¯s do that whole Thanksgiving thing. Go around and say what we¡¯re thankful for.¡± Ugh, she wanted to get sappy. Cat wondered to herself what to bring up. The fact that she had friends that were willing to do a Friendsgiving was nice. That she was able to be in school to get a better education, that her family paid for her to be here. There was a lot to be thankful for....

    ¡°I want to go first!¡± Hannah announced loudly. She set down her fork on her nearly empty plate and sat up, arms out to address the small group. ¡°I¡¯m thankful that I got to increase my group of incredible friends from last year. You all make school bearable!¡± She initiated a toast by lifting her glass, and everyone clonked their plastic cups together with their own forms of agreements.

    Cam kept his lifted. ¡°I¡¯m thankful that we get to really get ready for water polo competitions. Fucking finally! That¡¯s the whole reason I¡¯m here!¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve been practicing all semester,¡± Peter said, raising a brow, but Cam hushed him.

    ¡°We get into it for real now. Every other day practice. Woo! Finally!¡± He shook his empty glass to indicate that he wanted everyone to clink it, and as a way to get the waiter¡¯s attention. ¡°Refill? Yeah, great. It¡¯s a coke. Thanks!¡±

    Kelsey giggled. ¡°I¡¯m thankful--for--uhhh...for the fact that even though I bombed my math class midterm, I now have a math tutor to help me ace the final, so I won¡¯t have to take it again!¡± The group gave her courtesy laughs, and Peter shook his head.

    ¡°You¡¯re lucky I can¡¯t charge you yet.¡±

    ¡°Tutoring is free through the university,¡± she shot back.

    ¡°Whatever. I¡¯m thankful that this school has been like a fresh start for me.¡± His answer was very quick, and Cat could only imagine why. Hard year for him...maybe even harder to be thankful this close to being disowned. But after everyone clinked his glass, Cat was left with everyone¡¯s attention.

    ¡°Hmm,¡± she thought aloud, glancing down to her plate. ¡°I guess I¡¯m just thankful that of all the places I could have been, I think here¡¯s not that bad.¡±

    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    ¡°That sounds like a cop out,¡± Kelsey said with a ¡°booo!¡± Cat laughed.

    ¡°Okay, fine.¡± That was a cop-out? Cat would give her a cop-out answer: ¡°I¡¯m just thankful to be alive.¡±

    ¡°Cop out!¡± Kelsey announced again, but Cam nudged her.

    ¡°How quickly you forget that Cat could¡¯ve died this year!¡± he said. Cat¡¯s smiled faded quickly. She didn¡¯t want the conversation to turn out like this. Even Peter managed to keep it light. But Kelsey gasped as she remembered.

    ¡°Right, I¡¯m sorry!¡± She glanced to Peter. ¡°I guess in a weird way, if you chose to go to that other school that accepted you, we could have--¡±

    ¡°Okay, let¡¯s not do that,¡± Cat interrupted with a nervous laugh. ¡°Happy Friendsgiving!¡±

    And, after a few laughs and jokes about how Peter was a life-saver of both Cats and math classes, the rest of the group chorused, ¡°Happy Friendsgiving!¡±

    <hr>

    Cat showed up to work the Monday before Thanksgiving with what she hoped was an acceptable fake smile. Her manager handed her the holiday hours, struggling to be sympathetic.

    ¡°You get time and a half for the whole two days you¡¯re working by yourself,¡± Nadine said with a hopeful voice. ¡°Thursday it¡¯s just five to two, and Friday¡¯s kind of technically a double, for the whole Black Friday thing. So it¡¯s going to be from midnight to four, you get an hour break, and reopen from five to two.¡±

    ¡°Is that legal?¡± Cat blurted. She didn¡¯t mean to sound so grumpy about it, but Nadine shrugged.

    ¡°You¡¯re eighteen, right?¡±

    ¡°Um, nineteen, turning twenty in--¡±

    ¡°Then it¡¯s legal. Time and a half! And you get Christmas break.¡±

    ¡°Why are we even open on Thanksgiving if the campus is closed?¡±

    ¡°The campus is closed, but we¡¯re a public vendor. We don¡¯t just serve the college,¡± Nadine answered.

    ¡°No one but college students come here,¡± Cat grumbled as she donned her apron to prepare for the morning shift. It was anticipated to be incredibly busy, and then suddenly dead come afternoon after everyone already started their travels.

    ¡°Take it up with Corporate. Saturday and Sunday, you¡¯ll have backup with Craig to do the morning bits for you to show up a little later. Craig is usually the night manager, but he¡¯s pulling doubles because we¡¯re so short-staffed that weekend. You¡¯ll have Paige and Claire to relieve you for your breaks and for the night shifts.¡± Cat glanced at the schedule on the counter as she tied her apron behind her waist. These hours were horrible. Good thing everyone else would be gone, because it wasn¡¯t like she¡¯d have any time to hang out with them, anyway.

    ¡°Time and a half,¡± Cat repeated quietly. Silently, she thought of Peter¡¯s explanations for hating his job from the weekend. Well. At least cell phone companies granted their employees time off at all.

    <hr>

    Later that morning, she was so far in her own head, that Cat hardly recognized when a familiar face popped up in her line.

    ¡°Oh! Hey, Cat!¡± smiled the swimmer. Last time she saw him, his hair was in a ponytail and dripping wet. Now he let the brown maine bush up around his cheeks in a classic California surfer style.

    ¡°Oh! Martin, hi!¡± She gave him a smile, blinking herself out of her daydreams of a worthwhile job. ¡°How are you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m good! How¡¯s your head?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m all healed up. Thanks for driving that day.¡±

    ¡°Oh, it was nothing. Peter was the one holding your brains in your skull.¡± Cat¡¯s eyes went wide.

    ¡°Um¡­,¡± was all she could manage to say. How could she respond to that? Now all she could think about was the constant pressure during the drive, the sign that Peter held a towel firmly against her the whole time. Martin flushed.

    ¡°Sorry. That was kind of.... Anyway, I¡¯ll take a large green tea, sweetened, please.¡±

    ¡°A-alright,¡± she said, nodding as she wrote down his order.

    ¡°Have you worked here all semester?¡± Martin asked, attempting to veer the small talk into a less disgusting direction.

    ¡°Yeah, usually in the mornings. Mondays, Saturdays, Sundays.¡±

    ¡°Oh! That¡¯s cool. I, uh, heard you connected with Nate a little while ago, but he lost you before he could get your number.¡± Cat¡¯s smile faltered. Were they friends? Peter said he wasn¡¯t friends with Nate, so she just kind of assumed none of them were.

    ¡°Yeah, uh, we must have lost each other in the crowd,¡± she said, shrugging. Was he fishing for that ¡°lost connection¡± sort of thing for his friend? ¡°Thanks for coming by! Your order will be up soon.¡± Cat glanced quickly over to Nadine, who was filling in for Jeffrey; her manager, despite all of her flaws, seemed to at least understand the universal glance that every girl knew: ¡°help please.¡±

    Martin started to ask, ¡°Maybe I could pass it--¡±

    ¡°Excuse me,¡± Nadine said in her Manager Voice to Cat, ¡°Please socialize on your own time. We have a line.¡±

    ¡°Sorry, ma¡¯am.¡± Cat gave a sorry look to Martin, who just waved and moved along.

    ¡°Ma¡¯am?¡± Nadine echoed. Her brow clocked halfway up her fivehead in disapproval.

    ¡°Sorry--that might have been too much.¡±

    But Nadine seemed to be concerned about the other implication that came with the word. ¡°Am I old enough to look like a ma¡¯am?¡±

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you thirty?¡±

    ¡°Is that old now? I thought thirty was the new twenty!¡±

    ¡°Only thirty-year-olds say that...,¡± Cat muttered as she grabbed a cup for the next patron in line.

    ¡°I just saved your ass from an awkward conversation.¡±

    Cat laughed. ¡°Yeah--sorry. You look great. You look like a freshman.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what I like to hear.¡±

    <hr>

    Tuesday night, the group got together for a very quick goodbye before Cam had to leave for the airport, and before Kelsey had to hop into ridiculous traffic to try and drive the few hours it took to get home. It wasn¡¯t very special, or even very nice. They met in the common room of Casa del Sol, simply because three of them already lived there. They didn¡¯t have time for a full meal, and Peter stood there with his truck keys in his hands, tossing them and spinning them anxiously.

    ¡°We get it, you want to leave,¡± Cat blurted with crossed arms. He hadn¡¯t been responding to her taunts lately; it was making her jittery like she was some sort of drug addict that needed a kick.

    ¡°I just don¡¯t want to make Cam late for his flight.¡± The jingling stopped.

    ¡°I¡¯m gunna miss you guys!¡± Kelsey cried, reaching in for a group hug. It didn¡¯t quite work very well, because Peter and Cat stayed out of it, so she instead moved to individual hugs. ¡°Text me pictures of what you¡¯re eating!¡±

    ¡°Probably a granola bar,¡± Cat muttered. Peter gave her a dry laugh.

    ¡°Ramen?¡± That sounded like he was maybe back into taunting her again. She encouraged him by making a retching sound before she returned Kelsey¡¯s hug.

    Hannah let out a long, dramatic sigh. ¡°You¡¯re always welcome to come to my parents¡¯ place for Thanksgiving, you know. Both of you.¡± She¡¯d mentioned it before, but Cat shook her head.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got work,¡± she repeated. Hannah didn¡¯t need to know what hours. How humiliating would it to show up to a Thanksgiving where she knew literally one person?

    ¡°I¡¯ve got a lot of studying to do,¡± Peter said. ¡°I fell behind on everything.¡±

    ¡°So you guys aren¡¯t going to celebrate at all?¡± Kelsey asked, pausing before her hug to Peter. ¡°At all? No turkey and cranberry sandwiches in front of a football livestream or anything?¡±

    ¡°Not a fan of football,¡± was Peter¡¯s answer. In reality, it hadn¡¯t really occurred to Cat to try and celebrate it with Peter. Not seriously, anyway. that would just be kind of...weird. And any time she was alone with him, something weird happened or one of them got really angry or something--no, it wasn¡¯t an option. But her excuse was better than not liking football.

    ¡°Alright, we gotta go. See you guys later!¡± Cam announced, giving Kelsey her final hug. ¡°Hope we don¡¯t all die in a sudden explosion from Yellowstone!¡±

    ¡°Aw, Cam....¡± Kelsey, Peter, and Cam turned to head to the door, and Cat shook her head while she went back upstairs with Hannah.

    ¡°You¡¯ve been nicer to Peter lately,¡± Hannah said as they waited for the elevator.

    ¡°Not on purpose,¡± she said. Really, she¡¯d been avoiding him so well, that when they were seen together, she was able to hide behind everyone else¡¯s conversations. And he just wasn¡¯t giving her anything to work with by ignoring her attempts to piss him off.

    ¡°Oh. I thought it might have been because of his whole...yanno. And especially around this time of year.¡± Hannah had a point, that perhaps it might be extra hard for Peter to go through what he was now, but...acknowledging it and using it as an excuse was just not something Cat did.

    ¡°There¡¯s still a chance I might kill him without you guys as his meat shields.¡±

    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s nice,¡± she said with a laugh. ¡°We¡¯re meat shields.¡±

    ¡°Friends, meat shields...same thing.¡± Hannah awarded her with a nudge as they walked through to the elevator together.

 Chapter 27

    Thanksgiving wasn¡¯t as difficult as Cat thought it might be. With a day focused on gratitude, it was hard to stay in a sour mood for long. All she had to do was look at the group text from her family, where they took turns exchanging things they were thankful for.

    That my babies are alive and healthy.

    That my beautiful wife gave me two, wonderful children.

    That my sister murdered a turtle to stay alive. What a little bastard, phrasing it that way!

    Gabe should be thankful that he¡¯s 600 miles away or I¡¯d smack him in the back of the head, Cat wrote back.

    Catherine should be thankful she is an adult so her mother can¡¯t ground her.

    I¡¯m thankful I muted the family group chat so I can actually get some housework done. At least her dad was consistent.

    Though working at the crack of dawn, alone, in a silent and nearly empty coffee shop certainly tried her patience. If she heard, ¡°Oooh, you have to work on Thanksgiving? Oh, that sucks!¡± by a customer that was buying coffee on Thanksgiving, she was going to lose it.

    Eight AM rolled around. She knew that every Monday, Peter got coffee at eight AM, but she didn¡¯t know if it was an every weekday thing. When he showed up in regular jeans and a tee, she almost dropped the rag she was holding. He gave her a toothless smile as he approached.

    ¡°You¡¯re the only one in?¡± he asked while she grabbed for his normal cup. Cat nodded.

    ¡°I¡¯m not even a manager and they let me open and close by myself.¡± She didn¡¯t bother writing his order on the cup, just went to the coffee machine to start grinding. Before she pulled the lever she said, ¡°I¡¯d feel honored if it wasn¡¯t because everyone else was got to go home.¡± After a minute of the awful crashing sound of the machine grinding the coffee into bits and spitting it into a cup, she set it on the counter and handed Peter a lid. He had cash in his hand, but she found herself shaking her head.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± she said. Peter raised a brow, hesitating.

    ¡°You don¡¯t want me to pay?¡±

    ¡°I haven¡¯t made anyone pay,¡± she lied. ¡°If they wanted this place to at least break even on a holiday, they shouldn¡¯t have staffed me.¡± As Peter laughed, she silently scolded herself--at first, for lying for no reason, and secondly for not thinking of doing this sooner. Forcing the store to go in the negative would incentivise the company to close for the holidays.

    ¡°You could get fired,¡± he warned with a crooked smile. She could tell it was genuine, not just from a sparkle in his eye but from his dimples. His hand slid to his back pocket to put his cash away, and she shrugged.

    ¡°Are you gunna narc on me?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Do you see any cameras in here?¡±

    ¡°Hmmm¡­. No, I guess there aren¡¯t.¡± Peter¡¯s smile widened. Laugh lines formed on the sides of his eyes.

    ¡°Then you get free coffee and I get to be petty.¡±

    ¡°That is your default setting¡­.¡± He took a sip from his coffee without blowing on it, and she waved at him to leave, rolling her eyes.

    ¡°Pft. Leave before I change my mind.¡±

    ¡°If you wanted to be extra non-compliant, you¡¯d just take the money and pocket it,¡± he said without moving. Cat made a face.

    ¡°It¡¯s Thanksgiving. The point is to give free coffee, not get arrested for embezzling.¡±

    Peter considered things for a moment, shrugging. ¡°I thought the point was to deliver deadly disease and displace hundreds of thousands of indigeonous--¡±

    ¡°Oh my God, I didn¡¯t sign up for a repeat of high school history,¡± she said through a groan. ¡°No need to main-splain, Squant-a-wannabe.¡± Peter gave her a dry laugh.

    ¡°Whatever. And you called me privileged.¡± He looked like he was about to turn around, but Cat hadn¡¯t given her final word yet.

    ¡°You are.¡± She didn¡¯t explain herself, but watched the coffee cup in Peter¡¯s hand contract a little bit. Peter¡¯s dimples were long gone when he sighed.

    ¡°Seriously?¡± His tone made her heart skip a beat. Was this it? Was this the one comment to get him to switch back to normal?

    ¡°What?¡± she asked. Peter didn¡¯t look at her.

    ¡°I thought--I thought we were past that.¡±

    ¡°Past what?¡± The arguing? But that was what they did¡­.

    ¡°You just being so judgmental--you know me.¡± He wasn¡¯t angry enough. He sounded--disappointed, almost. That wasn¡¯t what she was going for. Cat grabbed a rag from the other side of the counter and began to fold it very carefully, shrugging without looking at him.

    ¡°You can have a shitty life and still have privilege.¡± Maybe this wasn¡¯t the right thing to talk about. This wasn¡¯t going to get the reaction she wanted...but it was too late.

    ¡°No, Cat,¡± he said, emphasizing her name, ¡°you weren¡¯t actually talking about that. What you¡¯re doing is erasing my culture and ignoring my experiences. You can¡¯t claim ignorance to that anymore.¡± Erasing his culture? Ignoring his experiences? Cat looked up to him now, her face twisted in exasperation. He set his cup on the counter and leaned against the granite, braced to try and beat her in this argument. She glared.

    ¡°I literally just acknowledged your experiences,¡± she spat. ¡°The outside world doesn¡¯t know what you¡¯re going through. They just see a white guy with designer jeans, also known as a Poor People Costume. Are you going to tell me your entire family worked doubles for a full year to pay for this semester¡¯s tuition?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re just going to glaze right past the fact that you called my clothes a costume.¡± His arms were crossed, now; she was meant to stop there, to stop on the bit that he focused on, but she shook her head.

    ¡°You¡¯re talking about different things. I¡¯m talking about the fact that you¡¯re privileged, you¡¯re complaining that I¡¯m not addressing your shit life.¡±

    ¡°But the thing is¡­.¡± She watched one of his hands turn to a fist. ¡°You¡¯re sitting there acting like you get to see me that way, like a stranger, but you don¡¯t get to. You aren¡¯t some outside person that gets to pass sweeping judgments about me anymore--¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t get to tell me what I can and can¡¯t--¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re actively ignoring--okay, this is what I don¡¯t get--¡± Peter fidgeted, agitated, as he held up his hand to make a point. ¡°Why would you hide everything--everything about me from our friends when I just asked you not to tell anyone--and, by the way, I¡¯m fairly certain I was just talking about the antidepressants--¡±

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    ¡°And I didn¡¯t tell anyone!¡± she added.

    ¡°But when it comes to just you, you get to make the snap decision to just pretend you don¡¯t know everything?¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t that what you¡¯d prefer?¡± Cat snapped. ¡°That I didn¡¯t coddle you just because you¡¯ve had a rough year? You¡¯re not some damsel in the woods needing protecting.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s a difference between coddling, respecting someone¡¯s privacy, and just erasing their identity so you can be a--¡± Cat raised a brow at him, wondering for a split second if he was going to say what she thought, but after a moment¡¯s hesitation, Peter¡¯s chosen words were: ¡°a horrible person.¡± She¡¯d almost prefer he¡¯d just called her a bitch.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you want from me,¡± she snapped, eyes wide. This seemed to frustrate him most, of anything she said. His cheeks were red, now, and he gestured like she said something incredibly stupid.

    ¡°How about you act like a decent person? Or a normal person, for that matter! The fact is you¡¯re not a stranger, and you should at least be a slightly better friend than you are--¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re not friends,¡± she spat quickly, maybe too fast. The words tasted like vomit, but clamping her mouth shut didn¡¯t stop them from pouring out. It shocked Peter into silence, his lips still parted to finish the thought that long flew out of his mind. A full second passed by before he seemed to register what she said; and in that second, he managed to straighten his shoulders back, drop his arms to his side, and suck in a breath.

    ¡°Fine. Whatever.¡± The way those words hit her was unlike any other. There was something final about it; something harsh and that felt way too similar to when she¡¯d gotten caught sneaking out of the house as a teenager, like she was doing something she¡¯d later regret. She watched him swallow thickly, like he took a drink of molasses. ¡°Fine. Forget this conversation ever happened.¡± He looked like he had so much more to say, but he waved his hand dismissively and twisted around, empty-handed. He was nearly halfway to the door when Cat said, ¡°Your coffee--¡±

    Peter looked over his shoulder, but continued his leave. ¡°Free coffee is for friends. And we¡¯re not friends, so I know exactly what that is--and I¡¯m not interested in your charity.¡±

    It took a long while of Cat standing at the counter, alone, watching the steam dissipate from Peter¡¯s coffee before she could bring herself to move again. She white-knuckled the dirty rag, still tried to stop herself from speaking to Peter from an hour ago, but no matter how many times she replayed the conversation, she said what she did.

    He was just bothered she knew as much as she did, she finally told herself. He was mad that she knew details he only wanted his friends to know about--and she wasn¡¯t his friend. Because friends didn¡¯t...enjoy arguing with each other. Or literally only ever spend time together due to someone else forcing them to. And that was the only reason they saw each other outside of class and work, because Cam and Kelsey and Hannah wanted to be around both of them. That¡¯s all. Peter was just trying to convince himself there was anything more to it. Two people could spend a lot of time together without being friends.

    As Cat dumped his coffee in the sink, her hands shook. That¡¯s what this was, she convinced herself. Peter was mad--about the coffee. That¡¯s what started this whole thing. She should¡¯ve just kept her mouth shut. Why did she lie in the first place? She hadn¡¯t been giving out free coffee at all, and yet she just felt the urge to let him walk out with it--

    It wasn¡¯t charity, Cat thought bitterly as she returned to cleaning the grinder. If giving him free coffee was charity, then that made her a hypocrite for getting upset when he offered to pay for her Health Center copay when she couldn¡¯t afford it--but they weren¡¯t friends. She, apparently, just made that abundantly clear. But she didn¡¯t just have the urge to give him free coffee out of pity for his dead bio-dad and awful step-dad¡­.

    Cat finished her shift with minimal conversation with anyone, leaving her to stew alone in her thoughts for far too long. Eventually, it was settled: dirty dreams, forced time together be damned. She wasn¡¯t friends with Peter because he was just impossible to get along with; she obviously felt subconsciously bad for his Thanksgiving situation. She was a hypocrite. And something about that thought, as awful as it made her feel, offered the tiniest bit of relief.

    <hr>

    Video-chatting her family while they ate their usual traditional dinner at four PM was really quite nice. She got to see some cousins, a few neighbors and their families as her brother passed around the phone. Just like normal, she didn¡¯t get to talk to any one person too much, just endured surface conversation and answered, ¡°How¡¯s school going?¡± and ¡°What do you want to do when you graduate?¡± too many times. But when it came down to close the conversation, Cat found herself grasping at straws to come up with reasons to stay on the phone.

    ¡°Any time off work, Dad?¡± she asked again.

    ¡°No rest for the wicked, sweetie,¡± he answered briefly, glancing at the camera for just a moment to answer. ¡°Looks like people are gearing up to head out. You okay? You seem¡­.¡± His attention was split, but he kept trying to return to facing the phone.

    ¡°I, what? Me? Yeah, I¡¯m fine,¡± she stammered as she slapped on a false smile. ¡°Lots to do. Lots of...homework and stuff. Studying. Oh, and laundry.¡± Though her laundry was fine.

    ¡°Alright, kidd-o. We¡¯ll let you go, then.¡± As her dad held out his hand to pan the camera to the people behind him, Cat gave a little wave to the extended family and friends she only ever saw once or twice a year. Up until this time, she¡¯d never really been all that excited to see anyone. It was just part of a routine and she never quite missed anyone unless they didn¡¯t show. But this time, as her father panned around the dozen or so guests in her home, her heart sank a bit.

    ¡°Hope I get to see you guys soon,¡± she called a little louder. She couldn¡¯t make out what any one person was saying, but she assumed they all gave some form of agreement or well wishes that distant family and friends always did when it was time to say goodbye.

    As the screen of her phone faded to black, Cat frowned at herself in the reflection of her phone. Now that everything was quiet, she found herself slumping into the back of her desk chair, wondering what on Earth she should do next. Something to keep her occupied, maybe. Something productive. Or maybe find a way to start a tradition for herself...? No, that just sounded pathetic. It wasn¡¯t like she had someone to celebrate with, like a Friendsgiv¡­.

    Before her own thoughts could finish, Cat sighed and pulled out her agenda from her messenger bag to flip through it. The professors weren¡¯t all that demonic this year, didn¡¯t assign all that much work to be done during the break. She could do some reading, could do some practice problems for her math test....

    Her phone blipped. PumpkinKing has created a thread! her phone read. Smiling to herself, she decided that talking to him would be a much better alternative than getting any work done. He was always a great distraction: a great conversationalist, realistic and witty. He was more like a friend than--

    Cat clicked on her notification to see what he said.

    Excuses to avoid people during the holidays? was his prompt.

    Cat immediately began to type: Syphilis and pressed SEND.

    PumpkinKing replied quickly with, Syphilitic Insanity.

    Someone broke the beginning of their chain by submitting an actually viable idea of pretending to be sick and applying blush to your eyelids so you look like you have pink eye, an idea Cat had to store for later. Instead of replying, she decided to message Pumpkin,

    Looking for an excuse to avoid people? she asked.

    No, normally I¡¯m pretty good at that. Just bored. Do you have Syphilis? She awarded him with a laughing reaction.

    No STIs here. The insanity part, though....

    I already had that part figured out. Oooh! Cat giggled and glanced around her room, almost instinctively. Hannah wasn¡¯t there, wasn¡¯t going to sit there and taunt her for laughing at some faceless guy on the Internet. She could laugh and respond as much as she wanted without fear of being judged, or the fear of someone reading over her shoulder.

    Cat hopped out of her desk chair and onto her bed, deciding to get comfortable for this. He was responding quickly, so maybe his family was done celebrating and he was looking to fill the time, too. They hadn¡¯t had a good, lengthy conversation in a while; in a way, it made her wonder if he was losing interest. But it took almost no time for them to return to their usual banter, this time themed around how to make the colonizers pay for what they did to all of the indigenous people they murdered.

    It was almost an hour of consistent replies before Cat¡¯s phone alarm went off. Eight PM. She should get a nap in before she had to open for Black Friday.

    I¡¯ve got to get a nap in before I open for work, she typed regrettably. But if you plan on being awake late, I doubt I¡¯ll actually have any customers.

    I¡¯ll be celebrating Black Friday by staring at the back of my eyelids, actually. Shame you have to go so soon...but message me when you¡¯re off work, maybe?

    Cat¡¯s heart slammed hard against her chest. She gave him a thumbs-up emoji, grinning stupidly to herself as she clutched her phone. Maybe it was just because she was by herself, or maybe because she¡¯d been kind of lonely for a while--but the more she spoke to Pumpkin (or, rather, typed), the more her stomach twisted in knots whenever she got a notification about him. But as fun as it was, she thought as she lay down on her bed and plugged in her phone, she doubted it would go any further. The Internet was full of random, crazy people.... Not crazy, she thought to herself, laughing, people with Syphilitic Insanity.

    The rest of the weekend, including her Black Friday shift, was immensely forgettable. The only notable thing was that come eight AM, Peter didn¡¯t show up like she thought he might, and she couldn¡¯t figure out if it was because it was a Friday or because he knew she was working and didn¡¯t want to deal with her. In her mind, this was just another reason that supported that they weren¡¯t friends. If one argument pissed him off that much, they never had a chance.

 Chapter 28

    Cat didn''t do all that much that weekend, not even homework. Her friends returned at various times on Sunday, all with exciting conversations about how annoying their families were.

    Hannah apparently got incredibly drunk during Thanksgiving and got scolded by her grandmother; Cam got accused of being a closeted gay man by his entire family at once during their dinner, despite coming out as bi last year; and Kelsey "accidentally" hooked up with her ex-boyfriend in the bathroom of a Waffle House hours before returning to campus, which Hannah described as the skankiest thing anyone could ever do before Cam rightfully rebutted that a Taco Bell bathroom would have been skankier.

    That Sunday night, while they exchanged stories in the common room, Hannah leaned back in a plush chair and looked to Cat and Peter with a sad expression.

    "What did you guys do? What did you eat?" Cat gave a sideways glance to Peter, as if to indicate for him to answer first. Peter shrugged without looking up.

    "I had Chinese food delivered and watched a Netflix special about the invention of zero." Good lord. When she gave him an expression that essentially boiled down to "are you serious," he shrugged. "It was good."

    "That''s the saddest thing I''ve ever heard," Cat said. Peter didn''t even acknowledge that she spoke; for whatever reason, it made her stomach flop.

    "What about you, Cat?" Kelsey piped up. Her legs were thrown over the side of the other plush chair; she sat in it kind of how Freddie Mercury did on that one cover of Rolling Stone and it suited her perfectly. Cat gave a small smile. She did miss everyone over the break, no matter how short. It made her heart warm to have them all back again.

    "I video chatted my family and went to bed early."

    "Oooh," Cameron sounded, sitting up a little straighter, "did you have to do anything for Black Friday?" Catherine rolled her eyes.

    "Yeah."

    "I feel like everyone gets roped into that in one way or another." Cameron shook his head. "I wanted to do the whole shopping thing, but my friends from home all had to work."

    Cat stared at him, frowning. "You''re the reason they had to work."

    "What? No, I''d give them time off if I was.... Oh. You mean because I participate in Black Friday deals." He sighed. "Yeah¡­."

    "I prefer online shopping. Cyber Monday," Peter offered without any prompting. It was a purposefully neutral take, one Cat heard way too often. It didn''t even sound like an opinion he''d actually have.

    "The IT people are the ones that have to work during that time," Cat said. "And the warehouse workers. Going online doesn''t stop it all from happening."

    "It takes more than one person to influence a trend," Peter shot back. Finally, Cat thought. He was finally responding to her like he used to. She maybe got a little too excited at the thought; was it weird she had to stop herself from smiling?

    "The collective is made of individuals. Sheep follow other sheep."

    "For fuck''s sake," Hannah muttered under her breath. She gently rested her head on the table in the middle of them; Kelsey threw her head back and let out a loud laugh.

    "Are you calling me a farm animal?" Peter''s eyes went wide. A burst of energy shot through her stomach.

    "If the shoe fits...or the hoof."

    Cameron slapped the table. "It would be-hoof you to stop this before you get started. We were all having a nice time, come on...." Cat shrugged, and leaned back in her chair. She could be satiated by that for a while. Peter grumbled something under his breath that she couldn''t hear; otherwise, she would have definitely said something else.

    "At least nothing''s changed," Kelsey said through her sigh. For the briefest moment, Cat was transferred to when Peter said that to her, when she stood outside his dorm, handing him replacement workout clothes for the ones she bled all over from when he "held her brains in" as Martin so delicately put it. A shiver ran down her spine.

    "Anyway," Cam said, as if nothing was said about it at all, "it''s nice to be back." Kelsey let out an "mhmm" response, but Hannah''s was even less enthusiastic. "Now to get ready for finals!"

    Kelsey kicked his leg as she muttered, "Cam, I hate you."

    <hr>

    Cam wasn''t wrong about prepping for finals, though. On Monday, open registration for next semester''s classes started, leaving everyone to frantically remember that their ideal schedules completely hinged on the fact that they passed the current classes they took.

    The only one that Cat was relatively worried about was communications, it turned out. Stats didn''t go as well as she''d hoped, and she would maybe get a B+ if she didn''t completely ace the final, but communications still looked relatively bleak from the horrendous "0" of such a large, first project. She''d pass, but barely, if she didn''t make up this speech. For whatever reason, that one speech was weighted just as heavily as the midterm paper and the final test.

    She thought that perhaps the professor would give her more feedback when Cat asked for it after class this week, but she didn''t. Just like before, she left Cat stammering, and in a cold sweat. There was really only one more option she could think of....

    Sighing, Cat approached Peter that Wednesday night after class. He stared at her like she had a fungal infection growing out of her nose.

    "Have you gotten any pointers from Professor Harlem?" she asked as he zipped up his backpack. Cat had waited for everyone in her row to leave so she wouldn''t have to deal with anyone walking behind her, but a few people grew frustrated at Peter''s hesitance and shoved past him. He didn''t seem to notice, or to even move all that much. Was that what it was like, being taller than a sixth grader?

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    "No," he said slowly. "I haven''t asked."

    "You''re not nervous for the makeup debate?" she asked, probably too fast. Peter stared at her for a moment; something in his eyes lit up for just a moment, amusement that faded away when he swung his bag over his shoulder.

    "Not really. This class isn''t all that important to me." He was trying to egg her on. Cat''s hands clenched into fists.

    "What''s your grade with the zero, right now?"

    He sighed. "A C."

    "Can you be a tutor if you have a C?"

    "In non-major classes...." But he didn''t sound too sure of that. "What are you getting at?" Cat picked at the skin around her fingernails.

    "Can we like--rehearse the debate before we actually go through it?"

    "Rehearse?" he echoed flatly. Slowly, he gestured for them to get moving to meet everyone else for dinner, and she fell in step with him.

    "Yes. Okay, I don''t care--well, I do care who wins--but I need to do well on this. I''m thinking of majoring in communications and I want to keep the option open for that." Peter let out a laugh, but she glossed over it. She''d berate him after she got him to agree to this. "I''m serious!"

    "You want to major in communications?" He cocked a brow at her. His hand reached forward to stop the door of the classroom from slamming into his stupid perfect eyebrow-face. She would have done it if she wasn''t staring so desperately at him. "Why? This class has been nothing but torture to you."

    Cat gasped when they stepped into the dark, cold night, and shuddered. The temperature was dropping so fast as the days went on. While Peter shrugged into his jacket sleeves without reacting, she had to stop her teeth from chattering. It wasn''t like this up north.

    "It''s not...torture. But I don''t want to make one--" Cat glanced behind her to make sure that Professor Harlem was nowhere within sight or earshot. "I don''t want to make one stupid teacher shape my opinion about a possible major. It''s the only one that sounds interesting right now." Peter didn''t seem to be all that interested in that last bit.

    "Why communications?" he asked, as if he couldn''t figure out why. "You''re the...Fort Knox, I think Kelsey called you. And you favor ignoring basic facts about people--"

    "Communications isn''t just about blurting out everything you know," she grumbled. "It''s finding a different way to understand--to help people understand your idea."

    "I know. And you''re terrible at it." Obviously he was still mad about last week. Cat let out a frustrated sigh.

    "Shut up--yes or no?"

    "To--?" Ugh, he was acting stupid on purpose.

    Cat gestured with her hand. "Just rehearse the debate with me. Right before it, please."

    Peter seemed pensive. "I don''t think I''ve ever heard you say ''please'' before¡­."

    "Peter!"

    "Um, alright--fine, sure. We can meet before the debate so you don''t freak out so much when I beat you--"

    "You can be quiet now," she muttered, barely audible. But he heard her, and instead silenced himself with a satisfied sigh. Maybe he only said yes to take a stab at her, but she got what she wanted out of it. Thank God.

    <hr>

    Peter might have thrown her a bone about the debate out of overconfidence, but not enough to actually help her. That Friday before class, like they''d scheduled, Cat sat in the library, waiting....but after fifteen minutes, she finally bit the bullet and text him.

    Where are you?

    Why? At least he responded promptly.

    We''re supposed to meet!

    I thought that was next week.

    He was such a liar! She''d even confirmed it before everyone parted from dinner last night! Cat caught her head in her hands. She had half a mind to call him, but opted to text instead. She wrote so many drafts, most of them starting with some sort of insult, but she stopped herself. He didn''t have to agree to meet at all. After staring at her phone, watching the chat with such fury, she opted to send, I really thought we confirmed for today. But if you mean next week, can we meet two hours before? Just so I have time to prepare if I have to make revisions?

    The three dots that indicated Peter was replying took far too long. Actually, she checked--he let those dots loop for a full two minutes before he sent his single letter answer: K.

    She had to stop herself from slamming her phone on the table. He was punishing her! For free coffee? God, what a child. Cat ground her teeth together as she stared at the conversation. He responded promptly so he could torture her more. He was waiting for her to text him, she was positive of it.

    "Fucking sociopath," she muttered to herself before she slammed her book closed.

    <hr>

    With no scheduled dinner with friends to simmer her irritation after class, Cat went to bed just as frustrated, and the mood carried on through work the next day. She couldn''t stop thinking about what would happen if she failed this presentation. Her dad always told her, "Give yourself the opportunity of choice. Do everything well so you have all of your options open." But Peter was trying to make that so difficult. She couldn''t pick a major in a class she did poorly in. How in the world would she justify petitioning for that major, if she sucked at it?

    The only thing to successfully pull her out of her anger was shock. It took a couple looks, but after she greeted the next customer in line, she had to look up again with a dropped jaw.

    ¡°Oh, Nate--hi¡­.¡± She plastered on a smile. ¡°Sorry, just in the zone. Um, what can I get for you?¡± He had such a pleased expression when she looked up at him; it nearly made her feel guilty for spilling her drink on him at the Halloween party.

    ¡°Hey Cat! Great to see you. I feel bad, because the last time you saw me, I got kind of--¡± His cheeks burned red. ¡°I made a bit of an ass of myself.¡± Oh. Well, that was...something. Cat glanced to the patron behind him, who seemed to be still squinting at the menu overhead, deciding. Couldn¡¯t use them as an excuse yet to hurry him along.

    ¡°Oh, um--it¡¯s fine. What can I get you?¡± She hoped this would get him to actually give her an order so she could go directly to making it, but he kept smiling at her.

    ¡°A second chance, I hope?¡± he asked. ¡°The water polo team is throwing a party next weekend. I was hoping you¡¯d come along as my date?¡± She couldn¡¯t hide her surprise.

    ¡°Oh--uh, I don¡¯t--I don¡¯t know my hours for next week,¡± she lied, hoping that would be enough.

    ¡°No problem, the party hasn¡¯t actually been set up yet,¡± he said, waving his hand. ¡°I can text you later with the details and we can see then. Could I get your number?¡± Shit, he was already pulling out his phone. God, why did men do this? She couldn''t escape while she was at work, and she couldn''t tell him she wasn''t interested because that could be rude, and she was at the mercy of polite conversation here.

    ¡°Um¡­. I¡¯m on the clock¡­,¡± she started, but he put a finger to his lips, as if that would make it any more okay.

    ¡°Before your manager sees. I heard she¡¯s a bitch.¡± Yeah, that would be the picture she painted to Martin.

    Cat hesitated before accepting his phone in her hand. It was open to a text message screen, waiting for a number to be input. ¡°Just type a message to yourself so you¡¯ll have my number, too.¡± God, her stomach felt low. A piece of her just kept trying to come up with excuses, to try and find a way of letting him down without actually having any consequences of having to deal with his disappointment, but she was too caught off-guard to come up with anything clever. Instead, she typed her number in with a simple ¡°hi¡± message and quickly handed his phone back.

    Finally, the patron behind him stood in line, ready to order.

    ¡°Um, anyway--sorry, got to get back to it,¡± she said, gesturing behind him. Nate spun around, then looked back with a panicked look on his face.

    ¡°Sorry! Um, I¡¯ll take a...medium...frap.¡± He didn¡¯t seem convinced, but she accepted it without any additional questions and wrote out his order on a cup. Before he even could say goodbye, she called up the next patron and offered him a simple wave.

    Ugh. Now she had to find a way to let him know she wasn¡¯t interested without being too...herself. How the hell was she supposed to do that? And now that she gave him her number, she was "leading him on¡­." God, nothing good could come of this.

 Chapter 29

    Nate text her a couple days after their encounter, stating the party was across the street in one of the frat houses at nine on Saturday. It was relatively early for a party. If Cat was actually interested in him, she¡¯d show up for a bit. Instead, she claimed she worked too early on Sunday attend. Hopefully that would suffice.

    Though she didn¡¯t work that weekend at all. She didn¡¯t work the entire finals week, in fact, because she was a freshman, and freshman didn¡¯t have to work during finals week. Apparently it was the only boon they got; upper-classmen got holidays, they got finals week. She was fine with that, though, because her finals were done by Wednesday, which meant she could go home early.

    With her excuse to avoid Nate lined up, and her hopes high for getting a few extra days out of Christmas break, Cat¡¯s excitement reached its peak on Friday.

    Two hours before communications; two hours before her presentation.

    And if Peter didn¡¯t show up, she might actually murder him. But to her immense relief, he did, and she was able to breathe again.

    ¡°Thank God,¡± she muttered under her breath when she saw him step through the elevator doors. She waved at him to get his attention, though he saw her immediately, as if his instincts told him that the bane of his existence was through the doors and to his right. Peter stepped through the very quiet library; it was packed full of students, but everyone had their heads buried in books or laptops and muttered to themselves furiously in the silence. Cat was lucky to get a table at all.

    Peter sat, a little stiffly, across from her and set his backpack on the table.

    ¡°So?¡± he prompted, waiting for her to take the lead. Cat let out a breath.

    ¡°I was thinking we could just read each other¡¯s presentations. Even just once. Then it¡¯s fair--I get to look at your points, you can see mine, and we can anticipate any arguments.¡± She looked at him, hopeful. Did he even know he held her whole future in his hands? That he could end her just by changing his mind and leaving?

    ¡°Alright.¡± Oh, thank you, she stopped herself from saying. As he took out his presentation notes, she had hers prepared for him already, with a few extra notes to make it easier for him to read. Her hands started shaking.

    Peter set his cards down in the middle of the table before he took out his book and notebook, and a few colored pens for notes. Cat squinted at him.

    ¡°What?¡± he asked, genuinely curious. She shook her head.

    ¡°Just--your side of your dorm room is such a mess. I didn¡¯t catch you for a colored pens sorta guy.¡± He still held his red pen in his hand, and he glanced down at it, as if she pointed out something wrong. ¡°Anyway--um, here are mine. I marked some things¡­.¡±

    ¡°Oh. Okay. Um, those are mine. They were meant for me, so I don¡¯t know if they¡¯ll make sense¡­.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure it¡¯s fine,¡± she answered too fast. Cat collected his cards to start sifting through them; she was far too aware of her heartbeat. She needed to focus. She couldn¡¯t get nervous now. The stress hormone was said to make it harder to remember things, and she needed to win this.

    For the next half hour, they sat in silence, perfectly reflecting the studious bubble of the library; Peter wrote out nearly all of her notes, whereas she was a little more precise in taking pieces of his argument. Maybe she should have been more aggressive with her note-taking.

    He was done eventually, though, and looked up at her expectantly.

    ¡°Would it--would it be too much if I asked for us to swap notes right now?¡± she asked. She was pushing it. Peter raised a brow at her.

    ¡°Seriously? You think that¡¯s going to help you?¡± His response made her jaw drop.

    ¡°No need to be a dick about it, I¡¯m just trying to do well--¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re trying to be over-prepared for a debate. Looking at your notes, you¡¯ve got a weak argument and you can¡¯t strengthen that with evidence that I¡¯ve brought up. You just have a bad thesis.¡± She gasped at him.

    ¡°A bad thesis? I do not have a bad thesis--¡± Peter held up a hand, as if he was going to correct himself.

    ¡°Fine, your thesis isn¡¯t bad.¡± That was better. ¡°But compared to mine, it is.¡±

    ¡°Oh, my God, shut up,¡± she muttered. She almost forgot to keep her voice down. ¡°If you can¡¯t defend your thesis if I know all your evidence, then you aren¡¯t actually debating. You¡¯re just trying to belittle my point.¡±

    ¡°My point is that you¡¯re not informed enough to make a good point about the topic,¡± Peter said. ¡°And that if you had all the information, you¡¯d come up with the right opinion.¡± Cat groaned.

    ¡°People don¡¯t disagree with you because they¡¯re stupid, they disagree because they have the right to. Your opinion isn¡¯t ¡®just right¡¯--¡± But Peter interrupted her.

    ¡°Except it is in this case.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a debate,¡± she said through her teeth. ¡°There is no right answer.¡±

    ¡°Except,¡± he repeated slower, ¡°there is in this case.¡±

    ¡°Shut up.¡± Cat rolled her eyes and tossed his cards back to him. He scoffed.

    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    ¡°What, are you upset because you¡¯re going to lose the debate again?¡±

    Cat¡¯s hand balled into a fist. ¡°Good God, if you don¡¯t shut up--!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll what, complain a little louder to the professor to try and get pity points?¡± His attitude made her stomach boil in fury. That¡¯s not what happened!

    ¡°No I--!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what you tried to do last time, isn¡¯t it?¡± The bastard! He was twisting it around all wrong! Maybe he was trying to throw her off with anger, to gain an edge. God, it was working¡­.

    Cat stood from her chair and slapped the table that separated them. ¡°For the last time, if you don¡¯t shut your fucking trap, I¡¯ll--I¡¯ll punch you again!¡±

    He actually laughed at her. Someone in the bookshelves behind Cat shushed them. They flinched.

    Peter lowered his voice, confident: ¡°You never punched me.¡± She grit her teeth at him.

    ¡°Yes I did!¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t reach.¡± Short jokes, really?

    ¡°Shut up. I did it once, I can do it again.¡± She clenched her fist for emphasis, and he leaned back in his chair to continue laughing at her. If it weren¡¯t for those dimples, she would have caved his face in already. But instead, she felt her argument dwindle just a touch before his voice brought it back.

    ¡°You haven¡¯t punched me before!¡± he said as-matter-of-factly.

    ¡°Just because you don¡¯t remember doesn¡¯t mean I can¡¯t wipe that stupid smirk off your face! It was at Hannah¡¯s party! I have Cam and Kelsey and Hannah to back me--¡± As she said their names, Peter¡¯s dimples disappeared and he stopped leaning, his chair legs clattering against the floor. So now he remembered!

    ¡°Can you guys do that literally anywhere else?¡± came a hushed voice beside the bookshelf behind Cat. She twisted around to see a stout girl glaring. ¡°This is a library.¡±

    ¡°Sorry,¡± she muttered inauthentically. When she turned back to Peter, he wasn¡¯t looking at her. She would expect him to look down in embarrassment or something, but he looked past her, rubbing the back of his neck, suddenly awkward.

    ¡°You¡¯ve never punched me,¡± he repeated quieter, instead. Now he reached for his backpack and began to shove his notebook, his pens, his textbook inside. Cat grabbed the base of the bag and pulled it away from him, emptying the contents onto the table. Folders and a couple smaller books spilled out, and a clunky calculator that clattered louder than anything in the room. The obnoxious shelf-girl huffed loudly, but Cat now had a mission.

    ¡°You remember that night, don¡¯t you?¡± Again, he didn¡¯t act like someone embarrassed by being punched by someone half his size. It left her stomach in knots when he hesitated. ¡°What happened?¡±

    Peter was quick to recover, but she watched his every movement and recorded every twitch of his lips, the millisecond-long furrow of his brows, the way he swallowed as if there was something thick to avoid saying.

    And, in the next moment, his face was smooth, he shrugged and was shoving his stuff back into his backpack, more haphazard, more purposefully relaxed, as he stood from his chair.

    ¡°Nothing, it was just some stupid game. You couldn¡¯t punch me even if you--¡± But she would not accept his attempt at veering the conversation somewhere else. She yanked at his bag again, but he held onto the flaps just as tight, finally meeting her eyes.

    Cat attempted to make her voice sound lighter, as if she didn¡¯t care, but it certainly didn¡¯t come off that way. ¡°If it¡¯s nothing, why did you lie about remembering it?¡± Now that she demanded the truth, her hands started to shake again. What could be so bad that everyone would lie about it to her? While laughing?

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, it¡¯s not important!¡±

    The bookshelf girl shouted in her whisper behind them, ¡°Shut. Up. I have a test in half an hour!¡± Peter took advantage of the distraction and stole his bag out of Cat¡¯s grip to zip it up. He moved too fast, and the zipper caught halfway through, but he ignored it and swung it over his shoulder half-closed.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got a thing to go to.¡± No he didn¡¯t. He was delaying telling her a weird secret everyone kept from her--and what for? But it wasn¡¯t just from her. Everyone thought they were keeping it from Peter, too.

    ¡°Tell me,¡± she demanded. She didn¡¯t reach for his bag to stop him, or even do anything but stand there, somewhat resigned. It was enough to make him stop beside the table, eyes on the elevators, one foot already pointed and started.

    But something in him released him, and he turned back to her, his voice breathy, ¡°All night you said you were going to shut me up, blah, blah, blah: your usual obnoxious--¡±

    Shelf-girl was relentless: ¡°Shhhh!¡±

    Cat snapped at the girl: ¡°If you don¡¯t know it by now, you¡¯re going to fail anyway!¡± And before Peter could leave, she pointed at him and glared. ¡°Get to the point.¡± Peter frowned, and shrugged his shoulders too much for her to believe it was ¡°nothing.¡± But he ducked his head a little, kept his voice barely above a whisper, and finally looked back to her.

    ¡°We were in the hot tub playing Truth or Dare, and someone dared you to shut me up, and instead of punching me like you said you would, you just...sat on my lap and kissed me.¡± Her heart skipped a beat. His eyes darted around her face, searching hers for a reaction, refusing to settle anywhere in particular. She stood there, taken aback, with raised brows.

    ¡°Not a peck, I¡¯m guessing.¡± She hardly felt the words bubble in her throat.

    He hardly shook his head. ¡°No.¡± The night was too much a distant memory for her to corroborate his story personally. But his hesitation, the way he waited just a moment for her to absorb what he said, left her with more questions. ¡°Anyway I didn¡¯t want to embarrass you without you having any memory of it. It seemed too cruel. Um, I¡¯ve gotta go.¡± And like that, he finally headed toward the elevator doors.

    Cat slowly lowered herself to her seat. She had no memory of this in the least bit. But the way everyone reacted, the way they found it all so funny that morning. The way he got so awkward about it. Peter wasn¡¯t lying. She really did try to full-on kiss him at the party. Good Lord...maybe it was better not knowing, she realized as the familiar twinge of shame framed her stomach.

    Cat fished her phone out of her bag and immediately clicked to text Hannah. She had to at least confirm. What if he was just trying to get in her head? Rattle her before the debate? Considering what he did the first try of the debate, this seemed likely. But she doubted it.

    With a deep breath, she drafted her text.

    Hannah, at your first party of the year when I blacked out, I didn¡¯t actually punch Peter, did I? Now the waiting game. It in the hot tub--when she sat by Cam? She could almost imagine it now. Standing up in the tub, embracing the freezing desert air, stumbling her way across the textured tile and clumsily clutching onto Peter¡¯s bare shoulders as she fell on his lap, straddling him completely.

    A buzz from her phone revealed Hannah¡¯s reply: lol!! no. Why? He tryin to sue? The butterflies fluttered fiercely.

    Did I try to kiss him? Cat typed back. God, how humiliating. After all that bickering, to throw herself at him in front of everyone, free for the ridicule. It undermined everything she ever said. No matter how good her insult, she was that inauthentic drunk girl that just tried to unsuccessfully get in his pants. She was pathetic. No wonder why he always laughed at her. She was a joke.

    Hannah¡¯s reply interrupted her black hole of self-pity: try? lol girl u guys made out for like 5min. everyone kind of went to bed after that bc it was too hard to separate u. but it was so hot im sad u dont remember.

    Cat stared at the text until the screen timed out, heart hammering, her breath as if she just ran a mile. She kept reading Hannah¡¯s text over and over again, struggling to absorb what it said.

    Oh.

 Chapter 30

    The next hour was literal torture. Peter saying he was going to show last week to just ¡°forget¡± was one thing, but it was nothing compared to this. Cat¡¯s heartbeat never left her ears; she¡¯d never shaken so bad in her life, not from cold, not from fear. Her stomach hurt so badly that she seriously considered asking Professor Harlem for extra time, just to gather herself. But now she stood at the podium with her cue cards and revised notes, trembling, staring into the crowd of students. Her saliva tasted rusty. God, she was going to throw up.

    Somehow, Cat managed to get through her opening statements without puking on the audience. And her point. And introduce her evidence. The feeling didn¡¯t dissipate at all during the debate. It was quite possibly the worst thirteen minutes of her life, including the pain from after getting the staples removed from her head. Including any hangover she might have had. Menstrual cramps that she was told were comparable to labor pains and appendicitis? Child¡¯s play.

    Peter showed no sign of nerves. He was cool, collected, scientific. How did he do that? How could he act so cool about a class he didn¡¯t even care about? And worst of all, she could tell, even through sweating pure anxiety, that he was winning the debate. Easily.

    She stood up there for her closing remarks. Most people looked at their phones or doodled on spare paper while she rattled on about something she really didn¡¯t care about. She looked over to Peter, who sat on the side of the room, just watching passively, and her mind couldn¡¯t process what was happening. He sat there with his arms crossed, not looking upset, or even like he was paying attention, and her stupid brain might as well have just shut off, because now she could only picture him in the hottub that night, in his black swimshorts, surrounded by the steaming and bubbling water, illuminated only by the decorative, color-changing lights they all sat around.

    When they¡¯d finished their presentation, the class applauded respectfully, and Professor Harlem dismissed them to their seats. Cat was hardly aware of what the woman said. She heard some words like ¡°vast improvement¡± and ¡°proud,¡± which would have normally sent her into a euphoric high for several days, but the words couldn¡¯t even do anything other than bounce off of her.

    Other students performed other makeup presentations, Professor Harlem went over the details to the final test for Wednesday night, and during that whole half hour of calm nothingness, Cat still quivered in her seat.

    Class somehow got dismissed while Cat sat and stared at her desk. She glanced up with a sharp intake of breath, eyes wide, glancing around like a frightened bird before she finally got the cue to gather her things and leave.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± Peter sounded amused as she shoved through the door. Okay? Was she okay--was that a joke? Did he realize that he just shook her entire understanding of herself with one stupid secret she should have known about at the beginning of all this? And combined with the pressure of the most important presentation of her life, where she could have very likely had a heart attack and died right in front of the class? She twisted around to face him, her hands clutching the strap of her bag.

    ¡°Am--I--you--are--I--and--¡± Her words didn¡¯t come out in order, and some didn¡¯t even show up at all in her what she tried to say. And now that she got her mouth to say any words at all, the ones she thought might make it out of her brain just sizzled to a useless silence. Peter raised a brow at her. In a moment of frustration, all she managed to sound was, ¡°Blaaaah!¡± In her defense, it perfectly articulated what she felt.

    But Peter burst into laughter, her cheeks burned so hot she almost forgot she was cold, and the humiliation propelled her legs to run to her dorm. No dinner for her. Nothing in her stomach was staying down.

    <hr>

    For the duration of dinnertime, Cat sat in her pajamas on her bed, rolled in her comforter like a perfect burrito, and sat with her pillow on top of her head in the dark. Did she maybe look crazy? Yes. Did she feel crazy? Also yes. But leaning against the corner of the wall, covered in warmth like she was seemed to be the only thing to stop her from shivering and spontaneously combusting.

    At least as she sat there in the silence, she could finally hear her own thoughts. Her stomach released its knots very slowly as she walked through everything Peter said, as she began to reflect on the beginning of the year.

    And in the hour and a half it took Hannah to get home, she didn¡¯t get very far. To be fair, even if she did get anywhere at all, Hannah flicking on the light and screaming at the top of her lungs would have made any thoughts go out the window.

    ¡°What the hell, Hannah!¡± Cat screeched when her roommate recoiled at her.

    ¡°WHAT THE FUCK, CAT?¡± Hannah panted and clutched her heart like an old lady seeing a ghost, staring at her. ¡°What the fuck are you doing? Sitting there like a serial killer? Like a bat?¡± As Hannah stared at her, her expression got more confused. ¡°Like a--like a pig in a blanket bat? In the dark?¡±

    ¡°I was cold,¡± Cat murmured. She adjusted herself so that her pillow fell from her head and onto her lap. ¡°I wasn¡¯t feeling well.¡± As she said this, Hannah let out a heavy sigh and started to laugh to herself.

    ¡°Jesus Christ, why in the dark?¡± As she shrugged off her fluffy coat and slipped out of her boots, Cat slowly wormed herself out of her comforter burrito to free her hands.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I just ended up that way.¡±

    Hannah stared at her, out of breath, though amused.

    ¡°Peter said you guys had your debate today. He said you did really well, though--just that you were too nervous for dinner.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Cat said, nodding. A lot of it had to do with nerves. Nerves from presenting, from the pressure of this debate...and from Peter¡¯s stupid lie form earlier in the year. It changed everything. Kind of. At least sitting here by herself helped make everything settle: her stomach, her racing, anxious thoughts¡­.

    ¡°But it¡¯s over! And now you¡¯re done with it. Do you have a final for communications?¡± Hannah¡¯s words almost flew over her head. What? Finals? Right.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Cat said absent-mindedly.

    ¡°Do you work tomorrow?¡±

    ¡°No, I¡¯m done for the year.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s awesome! About time you got a break and get to sleep in on a weekend!¡± Hannah was so enthusiastic about this, but Cat was still so far inside her head, it was almost like her roomie spoke to her from outside.

    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Cat knew what she needed. She needed a reset. She needed to look at things differently, from a different perspective. Fresh. Hannah was finishing her spiel about how important it was to de-stress, and Cat couldn¡¯t help but completely agree. This was all too much. She should not have been so freaked out that she was reduced to a puddle of nerves in her bed.

    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Cat said through a sigh. ¡°You doing anything tomorrow? Maybe we can do face masks and stuff.¡± Hannah gasped and twisted around.

    ¡°Yes. Do you want to go to a party tonight? Kelsey just got invited to one like an hour ago, and she said we should come along! Then we can all crash here, and spend all day tomorrow doing beauty stuff.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m kind of exhausted tonight,¡± Cat admitted sheepishly. Plus, she needed to sleep on everything she¡¯d just learned. She didn¡¯t want to end up knocking on Peter¡¯s door at four in the morning, drunk, just to freak out and make everything worse. ¡°But....¡± But a party would be a good, neutral place to see what sort of feelings she may have had or not had toward Peter. Somewhere he interacted with anyone but her, so he couldn¡¯t mess with her head or torture her...or laugh at her...or judge her.

    ¡°But?¡± Hannah echoed expectantly.

    ¡°Do you want to go to one tomorrow?¡± Cat asked, her eyes drifting to her phone. ¡°Apparently the water polo team is throwing one down the street a couple blocks.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡± Hannah asked. ¡°I thought Cam said something about him having a date that night.... I didn¡¯t think it was to a party.¡± Hannah cocked her head to the side and brushed her fingers through her hair. ¡°Are you his date?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not,¡± Cat corrected. Though who was Cameron seeing that none of them knew? ¡°Nate asked me....¡±

    ¡°Oooh, Nate! The one from your rescue mission!¡± Hannah recognized with a gasp. ¡°I thought you were kind of done with him?¡± As her roommate began to freshen up for her outing tonight, Cat sighed to herself.

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m not that into him...but I could use a party this weekend, with people that I know.¡±

    ¡°Well, you know most of the water polo guys, right?¡± Hannah approached her mirror on her closet door to start cleaning up the edges of her makeup.

    ¡°Like a third,¡± Cat said flatly. ¡°But...yeah, do you want to go? If Cam¡¯s got a date, I doubt he¡¯d be around all that much, and I don¡¯t really want to give Nate the idea that I¡¯m into him....¡±

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you say you¡¯ll go as friends?¡± Hannah suggested, glancing over her shoulder. ¡°Just say you¡¯re not into dating right now or something. Friends works.¡±

    ¡°I told him I couldn¡¯t go originally,¡± Cat said as her fingers gently picked up her phone. ¡°But yeah. I guess...I could say ¡®as friends¡¯ and that should be good, right? He won¡¯t get upset?¡± She already opened the text conversation with him. His sad emoji blinked at her from her rejection.

    ¡°If he¡¯s not okay with it, avoid him at all costs,¡± Hannah said. ¡°But like, just let him know where you¡¯re at. Shouldn¡¯t be a big deal, I mean--it¡¯s not like you¡¯re leading him on that way or anything.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Cat said, nodding to her. ¡°You¡¯re right.¡± Especially because her purpose for going to the party wasn¡¯t exactly to hang out with Nate. Her attention to him would be divided at best. With this thought in mind, she began her draft to Nate. Hey, turns out I don¡¯t work Sunday after all, she started. Want to hang out at the party tomorrow? That sounded neutral, right?

    <hr>

    Spending the day with Kelsey and Hannah was nothing short of glorious. Kelsey stopped by the store to pick up face masks, hair masks, snacks, lotions and scrubs of all kinds. Apparently, hungover Kelsey shopped very well.

    To help keep her mind off of everything, Cat messaged Pumpkin when she awoke. Might as well get the best start to the day.

    De-stressing before finals? he asked when she told him what she was up to. Nice. Allow me to help!

    Cat laughed at her phone. How are you going to help me?

    My roommate was trying to cheer me up a little bit ago; I have some funny gifs and videos he sent me. Hold on. And, from there came a slew of videos of news anchor bloopers and gifs of animals playing. It all honestly made her chest feel warm: a perfect complement to her plans for the rest of the day.

    ¡°Pre-finals cleanse,¡± Kelsey sighed as she peeled off one of those charcoal face masks. She scrunched her face together from the pain, but pulled at it like a bandaid; Cat could hear the material stretch and tear at her skin. Hannah still searched for another sort of movie on her laptop while Cat soaked her hands in a bowl of water to give herself a manicure.

    ¡°I really needed this,¡± Cat said, smiling up to her friends. They still looked like they felt terrible, but it was only a matter of time before the gallons of moisturizer they applied to themselves soaked into their organs and made their hangovers go away.

    ¡°This was a great idea, Cat,¡± Hannah agreed. She clicked on some random romcom and set it aside so that they could all see the screen, though they probably wouldn¡¯t watch much of it.

    ¡°Peter said you did really well on your presentation yesterday,¡± Kelsey said after she peeled the last bit of her face mask off. ¡°Congrats! Sorry we missed you at dinner.¡±

    ¡°I was too nervous from presenting,¡± Cat said. She pulled her hands out of the water, onto a towel on her lap so she could start working on her nails. ¡°But now that that¡¯s done, I know I¡¯ll be able to take all my classes next semester.¡±

    ¡°What are you taking?¡±

    ¡°The continuation of communications, ceramics, pre-calc, and some sort of multicultural English class. You?¡± Man, how did her cuticles get so high up her nails?

    ¡°Eeew, pre-calc,¡± Kelsey sounded.

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m kind of nervous for it,¡± Cat admitted as she scraped away the dead skin. ¡°But I did alright for every other class up until now.¡±

    ¡°Why are you taking pre-calc?¡± Kelsey sounded confused.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know really what I want my major to be, so I¡¯m just taking it just in case it¡¯s a prerequisite for anything upcoming. Getting it all out of the way now so that I can take all the fun classes later.¡±

    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s smart,¡± Hannah murmured absent-mindedly as she sorted through the different sets of face masks that Kelsey brought. She eventually settled for a clay mask that somehow ¡°fizzled¡± when it was done.

    ¡°I hope so. I don¡¯t know anything about pre-calc.¡± Cat sighed and grabbed an emery board from the Ulta bag in the center of the trio. ¡°So neither of you want to come to this party with me...? Please?¡± Kelsey and Hannah flinched. It was early afternoon and they still periodically stopped to swallow vomit down. They must have gone pretty hard last night, so neither of them agreed to tag along. Cat didn¡¯t wake up for them coming in this time, which was a relief. She had a harder time remembering her dreams when she got to sleep through the full night, and she did not want to even think about what her brain would do to her with her new information and so much less school to worry about.

    Admittedly, Cat¡¯s imagination kept returning to the dirty dream she had before. How much of that was from memory? Did he kiss her like that before? She couldn¡¯t even get a twinge of familiarity from his words or Hannah¡¯s...though Hannah was much more descriptive. If it was ¡°so hard to separate them¡± then why did they? Why did she wake up next to Cam, fully clothed? There must have been more to the story. But who in the world could she even talk to about it? Hannah and Kelsey would just freak out--and Cat was not prepared to handle anything they could throw at her. She needed to have definite feelings, clear thoughts on everything, first.

    Mostly how she actually felt. She doubted ¡°I don¡¯t know¡± would fly. It hardly worked for herself, and she was the one dealing with thoughts that had the consistency and clarity of muddy pond water. Then there was Peter¡¯s reactions to her. He was no different from before and after the party, was he? She couldn¡¯t even remember.

    Cat had decided that it didn¡¯t matter by the time Kelsey and Hannah led the way to the bathroom to do hair masks. Hannah¡¯s party was nearly half a year ago. So much had changed since then, anyway. What mattered was the way that they behaved now. Now that she finally had all the same information Peter did, she would be able to judge everything better.

    She¡¯d know for sure tonight. She¡¯d know at least how much kissing him mattered to her when she saw him, relaxed, refreshed, not a giant pile of nerves. And, if worse came to worst, it was the end of the school year. She had nearly two months to completely avoid everyone, if something happened.

    She doubted anything would. But just in case something did¡­.

 Chapter 31

    The girls returned to the dorm almost a full hour later, hair in towels, skin raw from scrubbing but smooth and glowing. It almost felt like they¡¯d lost a whole pound of Semester Stress, and it was beautiful. Kelsey and Hannah helped her physically de-stress, and PumpkinKing messaged her a series of sort-of flirty jokes when he ran out of videos and gifs. Best of all, neither of them actually asked about who she kept talking to during their girl¡¯s day. But based on Hannah¡¯s expression, they¡¯d probably gossip about it later.

    Kelsey and Hannah looked a million times better, hangovers long gone. The three of them ate some pre-sliced pizza from the convenience store and watched YouTube videos on meditation, and eventually, they all fall asleep for a quick nap in the middle of their sets of pillows and blankets on the floor.

    When Cat woke up, Kelsey¡¯s legs were draped over her, and Hannah was holding her arm like a fluffy teddy bear. She glanced to her phone in her other hand, mid-response to Pumpkin¡¯s latest joke. Her deep breath woke the other girls up; their joints popped as they stretched.

    ¡°Man, this was everything I needed,¡± Kelsey sounded. Her hair was a little kinked from the way she slept against a pillow and a crate that was under Hannah¡¯s bed. ¡°I feel amazing.¡±

    ¡°Right?¡± Hannah sounded, her eyes still closed. ¡°Man, Cat, you really want to go to a party after all this detoxing?¡± Cat laughed at her.

    ¡°I¡¯m not drinking that much tonight. I just feel like I need to...reset.¡± She sat up from their pile of fluff to press the auto-play to stop on Hannah¡¯s laptop.

    Kelsey laughed. ¡°Only you would find a party a reset.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡± She wasn¡¯t offended, but genuinely curious. Was that not how things worked for everyone else? Sure, face masks and freshly-painted nails were fun, but a party was where actual fun was--

    ¡°I mean you bust your ass at work, at the library, and at your desk. Of course the only place you can actually ¡®reset¡¯ is somewhere you¡¯ve never been.¡± Hm. That was an interesting thought. Cat hadn¡¯t really considered it that way. For a moment, she thought of what Cam said to her in the beginning of the year, how she never really got a break. She shrugged. If she stopped now, she might not ever get going again. Her mother often said that if you let one part of your life fail, the rest would come tumbling down.

    ¡°Well, it will be a good way to end the semester, really,¡± Cat said. ¡°After that, I¡¯ll do some light studying--there isn¡¯t much I can do right now. And I¡¯ll pack. I think I¡¯m leaving Thursday morning, I think.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going to really miss you guys during the break.¡± Hannah whined. ¡°Are you sure you don¡¯t work at all during the break?¡± She looked to Cat with puppy-dog eyes.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure,¡± she said, smiling. ¡°I was sure to put in my request right after I found out that Jeffrey was a world traveler. And, I mean, my parents kind of guilted me into it.¡± They didn¡¯t have to try that hard, though.

    ¡°Take lots of pictures. I feel like I know your mom even though I¡¯ve only ever eaten her tamales,¡± Hannah said through a laugh.

    ¡°They¡¯re going to bombard me with questions about you guys.¡± Cat slowly rose from the floor, a little sore, and twisted around to the alarm clock to check the time. ¡°Alright, I¡¯m going to get ready.¡±

    ¡°So soon?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m going to take my time,¡± Cat said, nodding. She didn¡¯t need an hour to get ready. Well--she might need a good chunk of that time to fix her hair, which got incredibly knotted and twisted around while she fell asleep on the floor of all places.

    ¡°I thought you weren¡¯t into Nate?¡± her roomie asked as she made her way to the closet.

    ¡°I¡¯m not doing any of this for Nate.¡± She leaned on her desk to stare into her closet. What in the world to wear, when it was freezing outside, but she¡¯d be inside for most of the night, probably warm from a couple beers, but freezing on the walk back to her place? Tights would probably help....

    ¡°Oh my God.¡± Kelsey started laughing, as if she realized something. ¡°Are you giving yourself an evaluation?¡± Hannah and Cat stared at her, fully confused. ¡°I mean like how you work so hard on presentations and stuff. You put the same effort into it. You¡¯re going to, like, take this time to kind of grade yourself on this semester.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s stupid,¡± Cat said without considering it. But damn if it didn¡¯t sound like a satisfying way to put an end to her first college semester.

    ¡°Does it not look like that?¡± she asked Hannah.

    ¡°It does, actually¡± said Cat¡¯s roommate. ¡°I didn¡¯t even think of it that way. I mean, we did just peel off like the first sixty layers of skin, we completely refreshed, and you¡¯re going to a party you don¡¯t even sound like you want to go to so you can ¡¯reset.¡¯¡± Well. Maybe Cat was using this party as an excuse to evaluate something, but she wasn¡¯t entirely certain if it was as large as the whole semester, so much as just trying to figure out what she felt toward Peter...and maybe what he felt toward her.

    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    ¡°It just feels like a good way to end the year,¡± Cat said, shrugging. ¡°It¡¯s the last party I¡¯ll be able to go to where my family won¡¯t be there.¡±

    ¡°Oh, yeah,¡± Kelsey said, shrugging. ¡°Well, it¡¯s very symbolic.¡± Maybe it was. This whole confusion started with a party, and it was ending with a party, right? Cat shrugged. She wasn¡¯t even certain if anything was going to change at all. Why would it, just because she now knew about something that happened five months ago?

    Cat eventually pulled out a simple, black dress she hadn¡¯t worn that often. She maybe did for one of her presentations, or for a group meeting, or something, but it wasn¡¯t very casual, so she didn¡¯t tend to wear it that much. But as she held it, she frowned.

    ¡°That dress sends mixed signals,¡± Hannah said immediately. ¡°That looks like you¡¯re dressing up for someone.¡±

    ¡°That someone can¡¯t be me?¡± Cat asked. But Hannah was right, and she placed it back on the hanger. She wasn¡¯t dressing up for anyone. She wasn¡¯t going to wear anything especially flashy to get any extra attention--that would...taint her data or something. She needed to look as average as possible.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think Nate would get a clear message from that.¡± Hannah was right. ¡°Just wear jeans or something.¡± Easy for her to say. Cat only had one pair of jeans.

    ¡°I don¡¯t even normally wear jeans.¡± Cat bent to her dresser to pull out her only pair.

    ¡°But a dress is like....¡± Kelsey shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know. You look too cute. If you want to tone it down, look less cute.¡± Cat laughed at her.

    ¡°Usually Hannah¡¯s the one flirting with me when I get dressed,¡± she said lightheartedly. The girls shared a hearty laugh, but eventually they settled Cat into jeans, a red sweater of Hannah¡¯s, and her usual boots.

    ¡°Red is so your color,¡± Kelsey said. She sat on Cat¡¯s bed, her legs swinging back and forth. ¡°What are you doing for makeup?¡±

    ¡°Hardly any, I think,¡± Cat said. Though going the extra mile would give her a boost of confidence, she had to be practical. ¡°Fill in my brows, some concealer...mascara. I think that¡¯s all.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, don¡¯t want to clog all your pores after all those face masks,¡± Hannah agreed. ¡°You can use one of my makeup wipes when you get back tonight if you¡¯re worried about it. Then you don¡¯t have to go all the way to the bathroom to wash your face.¡±

    ¡°Thanks.¡± Cat began to brush out her hair to start her side-braid, and her friends started to pick up their mini-fort off of the floor and throw away any extra wrappers from snacks.

    ¡°You actually look really cute,¡± Hannah started to say when Cat was finished. ¡°I mean, you look comfy, you look rested, your skin looks like you¡¯re pregnant--¡±

    "What?¡± Kelsey and Cat exploded at the same time.

    ¡°In that you¡¯re glowing and fresh, I was going to say!¡± Hannah continued. ¡°Jesus. Unless you¡¯re worried about that?¡± Cat shook her head, but frowned.

    ¡°Haven¡¯t been with anyone since--well, before Halloween.¡± Maybe that wasn¡¯t so long ago. ¡°But I¡¯ve had a couple periods since, so I think I¡¯m good.¡± Periods were her reason for needing concealer at all. Damn menstrual acne.

    ¡°The worst relief ever,¡± Kelsey agreed with a nod. ¡°Alright, you going to get going? I¡¯m gunna head back to my place, maybe grab some ice cream on the way there, and go to bed early.¡±

    ¡°That sounds heavenly,¡± Hannah said through a sigh. ¡°I might join you later if I can¡¯t sleep.¡± Cat grabbed her purse and began to empty out any receipts she¡¯d acquired over the period of time since the last party.

    ¡°You meeting Cam or going straight there?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going straight there. Cam¡¯s got a date.¡±

    ¡°Oh, fancy. Well, you can--¡± Kelsey started to laugh at her own joke before she even said it. ¡°You can always walk with Peter.¡± Hannah joined her laughter, but Cat didn¡¯t respond.

    ¡°At least you¡¯re wearing red, so no one will see the blood.¡± More laughter as Cat pulled her black jacket from the closet. ¡°But please don¡¯t get blood on my sweater!¡±

    ¡°No promises,¡± was Cat¡¯s cheerful response.

    <hr>

    It was freezing. Kelsey agreed, as they started to walk out together, that it must have been less than thirty degrees outside. Cat shivered violently, but her friend seemed to be more acclimated.

    ¡°You¡¯re not a desert girl, are you?¡±

    ¡°I live in a farm town in the north,¡± Cat confirmed.

    ¡°Well, one thing I always like about it here,¡± Kelsey said as they came across the fork they needed, ¡°is that you can¡¯t predict the weather, so you¡¯ve always got to be prepared! Like, tomorrow it could be sunny. Or it could rain.¡±

    ¡°Most people look at the weather report,¡± Cat grumbled. Her breath fogged in front of her like she was some sort of steam boat.

    ¡°Nah, they¡¯re always wrong anyway. We fucked up the Earth so much, meteorology is a joke to Global Warming.¡± It sounded like an exaggeration, but Cat agreed with her anyway. ¡°Anyway, text Hannah or me when you get there, just so we know where to send the cops when you get kidnapped!¡± Kelsey waved at her as she stepped toward her direction, and Cat made a face at her as goodbye when she turned to the sidewalk.

    Walking helped warm her up. The campus, though lit up well for security, wasn¡¯t all that populated. She assumed people were studying, or sleeping, or...something. Fraternity Row wasn¡¯t nearly as lively as the last time she¡¯d seen it. The house she was looking for was a couple blocks down, further than she¡¯d ever been on foot. If there weren¡¯t a few groups of random friends shouting loudly and messing about, Cat might have opted to call Hannah just to have someone on the phone while she walked.

    But eventually she found the house she looked for, and let her stomach tie into intricate knots. This was possibly the smallest, chillest party she¡¯d ever seen on Frat Row.

    Laughter bubbled through the windows of the little house; it was a little run down, in need of fresh paint and a little TLC, but it would be cute enough if they ever got to mowing down the front lawn. Cars hardly fit, parked along the street and even one halfway on the lawn to squeeze in just another parking spot. For whatever reason, this helped Cat decide that she never wanted to live on Fraternity Row. Maybe the dorms were a little congested, but at least she didn¡¯t have to go out of her way to make space for herself. She had her bed, her desk chair...her bathroom locker.... Well, it wasn¡¯t much.

    Cat shoved her hands in her jacket pockets and glanced on either side of the street before she skipped across. The pale house had music, but it wasn¡¯t as loud as the other parties Cat heard. The door wasn¡¯t open, and there wasn¡¯t anyone acting as a bouncer to turn away exes or freshman or anyone that wasn¡¯t welcome, so it probably wasn¡¯t very big. Cat braced herself, then knocked on the front door.

 Chapter 32

    Cat didn¡¯t stand on the small porch of the rundown home for very long, maybe a minute. Martin, his mane of hair flowing in gentle curls down to his shoulder, opened the door.

    ¡°You came!¡± he called, opening it more to invite her in. They must have just ordered pizza; she could smell the grease from the porch. Cat thanked him for letting her in, and tried to get her bearings.

    This house was old, probably built in the 40s, and hadn¡¯t really been updated much since. The floors were a worn tile that maybe had a pattern on it once upon a time, but the corners of the grout were so worn that she could hardly tell if it was an old pattern or an obscene amount of wear and tear.

    Martin led her through the small hallway to where the house opened up to the kitchen, and switched back to the living room. Most people seemed to be in the kitchen and dining room.

    Hanging by the counter was Cam, talking to a very attractive, dark-skinned guy by the sink. They immediately noticed her approach.

    ¡°Hey, Cat!¡± Cam called, surprised. ¡°I thought you worked tomorrow morning?¡± She hadn¡¯t told him that. Someone had been gossiping. She silently wondered how often Nate talked about her at water polo practice.

    ¡°I read my schedule wrong,¡± she opted to say, shrugging. ¡°Turns out I don¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Hey, that¡¯s awesome!¡± He lifted a solo cup, then gestured between her and the curly-haired cutie he spoke to. ¡°Do you know Brad? Brad, this is Cat. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve heard about her.¡± What was that supposed to mean?

    ¡°Um, hi,¡± Cat said, waving shyly. Martin excused himself to tend to something more interesting, and Cat shrank a little while she stared at her friend. ¡°Good things, I hope?¡±

    Brad met her halfway to shake her hand. He had a massive smile that lit up the room: definitely Cam¡¯s type. This was his date.

    ¡°Nice to meet you officially.¡± His handshake was a little gentle, but his voice was soft and even. ¡°I¡¯d only heard people talk about you.¡±

    ¡°Excuse me?¡± Now her eyes went wide.

    ¡°In passing! I mean, like Cam mentioned you, and stuff.¡± As gentle as Brad was, his words didn¡¯t calm her stomach.

    ¡°I--I don¡¯t know what that means,¡± she said, laughing nervously.

    ¡°I mean, we talk about you,¡± Cam said with a shrug. ¡°You were the girl that almost died.¡± She sighed.

    ¡°Is that my reputation?¡±

    ¡°No, you¡¯re also one of the few people that can put Peter in his place so easily. And I think--¡± As Cat¡¯s heart hammered, Cameron gestured somewhere to the dining room. ¡°I think you¡¯ve got Trenton in your stats class, and he seems to be under the impression that you put everyone in their place easily, so.....¡± What! Cat stared at him.

    ¡°Am--am I a bitch?¡± She added a smile to try and make a joke of it; rather than agreeing, Brad seemed to disagree.

    ¡°I¡¯d say no-nonsense. Like, not a doormat.¡± Though she had to think that if Peter ever spoke about her, he hardly hard anything nice to say.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t think I made much of an impression at all,¡± she admitted. Cam waved his hand at her, as if to dismiss her thoughts.

    ¡°You¡¯re one of my best friends, of course you make an impression.¡± Aw! ¡°Here, let¡¯s get you a beer!¡±

    ¡°Cat!¡± called the familiar voice behind her. She tried not to frown. Nate.... Cameron caught her expression, and it seemed like Brad did, too, because they laughed as Nate came up from behind her. ¡°I didn¡¯t know you were here!¡± Upon seeing how excited he was to see her, Cat felt her stomach sink. God, she hoped he didn¡¯t actually have any real feelings for her.

    ¡°I just got here,¡± she said, giving him a small smile. He dressed up a little. He had a green polo and Chinos on, which was a step above everyone else¡¯s graphic tee and jeans.

    ¡°Can I take your coat for you?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m fine for now, thanks....¡± Cat cleared her throat and glanced between Cam and Nate. ¡°I¡¯m not planning on drinking too heavily, you know. Just needed a good, uh, break for the end of the semester.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t want to celebrate?¡± Nate asked, cocking a brow.

    ¡°No, no, no--I just mean I¡¯m sticking to beer and stuff. I¡¯ve not been too great at limiting myself or pacing myself.¡± And she wanted to make it a bit clearer to Nate that she wasn¡¯t a fan of what he did last time. He seemed to take her hint loud and clear; his cheeks burned red and he ducked his head a little.

    ¡°Yeah, I know what you mean. Have you been blacking out a lot? I heard once you black out, it¡¯s really easy to just keep doing it.¡± As Nate asked, Brad leaned in closer to Cam to whisper something. Despite her initial paranoia from what they said about her making an impression, she could tell that whatever it was, was definitely private and had nothing to do with her or Nate. Cam smirked, seemingly getting a very familiar glint in his eyes.

    ¡°We¡¯re gunna go mingle,¡± Cam said without looking to them. And, with Brad¡¯s hand in his, they slipped out of the kitchen and into one of the other rooms. She couldn¡¯t get a good feel for the layout, but she thought it might have been outside or something. Typical Cam. Her stomach swirled nervously as she watched her friend leave. There went her safety net¡­.

    Cat stole their place in the kitchen beside the keg and poured herself a cup. This was the cheap stuff--lot of head, more bubbles than beer. Oh well. Couldn¡¯t expect much from a fraternity.

    ¡°Want to go sit down?¡± Nate asked, right behind her. Cat braced herself, and glanced around.

    ¡°Um, want to introduce me to some people? I don¡¯t think I know as many as I thought I would.¡± She gestured to a couple people that chatted in the corner by the door to the side yard, and to the doorway to the dining room where laughter erupted.

    ¡°Oh, I actually don¡¯t know very many people here,¡± he admitted, laughing. ¡°Just the team and a few of their girlfriends, really. More people got invited last-minute. But sure, let¡¯s see who¡¯s around.¡± Nate gently reached to touch her arm, more to twist her around and show her to the living room on the other side of the wall. He didn¡¯t seem to be too forward, at least. She could handle him when he was toned down.

    Nate remained on his best behavior as he introduced her to the rest of the water polo team. The captain, Thomas, seemed like a nice enough guy. It seemed like every position had a backup, and Nate was the backup goalie while Isidro had a broken leg. Isidro wasn¡¯t there tonight, though, as he was getting his cast removed. Nate seemed to be very bothered by it whenever anyone mentioned it, so Cat didn¡¯t ask any questions. She got the feeling that no one was much of a fan of Nate as their goalie.

    There weren¡¯t very many girls, to Cat¡¯s surprise. Only a few girlfriends from the team gathered around each other; Cat obviously didn¡¯t hang out with them; not only were they considerably older, but it looked a lot like a suburban barbeque: dads cooking, moms drinking wine and herding children. She wasn¡¯t about to give Nate any ideas that she had too much in common with the girlfriends--this wasn¡¯t a date.

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    But mingling with some new people was nice. Thomas brought a friend Katie, and her roomie, Theresa. They seemed nice enough. Then there was one girl, Georgia, who had perfect skin and was thin and tall enough to be a model that said her date was in the restroom. Georgia was kind, eager to get drunk, and had dark, thick hair. Cat hesitated around her. If her date wasn¡¯t someone she¡¯d met already, it must have been Peter...and he was kind of why she was here.

    At least this girl was different than Tanisha, that poor ex of his he kept stringing along. Georgia had a rainbow shirt on underneath her jean jacket, which had a matching embroidered patch on it, and was rather bubbly. Even her nails were painted with a sheer, bright nail polish that had a slight shimmer to it. She was a ray of sunshine and easy to talk to, so Cat decided to stick around a bit longer than when Nate introduced her to anyone else.

    ¡°What¡¯s your major?¡± Cat asked as she sipped on her beer. Nate seemed hurried, but Cat pretended not to notice, instead ignored his pull on her arm by saying, ¡°Whoops, sorry,¡± as if she¡¯d run into him. At least he was easy to pretend to be clueless around.

    ¡°Oh, I don¡¯t go to school. I work, actually. Do you go to Bay Area?¡± Cat couldn¡¯t help but notice that every question she asked, Georgia followed up with another, twisting it back around to be about her. That was such a telltale sign of a genuine person. How on Earth did Peter get her to come here?

    ¡°I do, I¡¯m undeclared. Where do you work?¡± The sound of the bathroom door opening behind Georgia made Cat let out a small chuckle. ¡°Let me guess: cell phone sales and repair?¡± Georgia seemed delighted that she guessed correctly. As if on cue, Peter stepped out from the rest room and joined the group, shocked. What shocked Cat more was that he just wore a plain tee and jeans. No button-up for this party? Georgia seemed like the kind of girl to dress up for, not someone like Tanisha.

    ¡°Cat, what are you doing here?¡± he asked, brow raised as he glanced over to Nate.

    ¡°Talking,¡± was her initial answer. But that sounded a little bitchy, and she actually liked talking with Georgia, so she added a laugh to make it sound like a joke. Peter narrowed his eyes at her.

    ¡°I mean, don¡¯t you work tomorrow?¡± Christ, Nate! Did the water polo team just sit there and gossip all day instead of swim, or what? Cat tried to hide her reaction, but Peter stared at her in a way to remind her to answer.

    ¡°Turns out I don¡¯t. And this is the last party I¡¯ll get to go to for the year, so....¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Nate sounded surprised. ¡°You¡¯re not coming to the big one next week?¡± He sounded so upset by it, like he was planning to ask her to go. Oh, gosh. She needed to be a bit more clear. Friends, she yelled at him telepathically.

    ¡°I¡¯m going home Thursday,¡± she said, shrugging as if it was no big deal. Maybe if she brushed him off more, he¡¯d get the hint.

    ¡°Well,¡± Peter sounded, shrugging, ¡°you look nice--a lot better than you did yesterday.¡± Now her cheeks burned, and she didn¡¯t have any foundation on to hide her embarrassment.

    ¡°What was yesterday?¡± Georgia asked politely. The cup Cat held crinkled a bit from her grip, echoy and loud.

    ¡°P-presentation,¡± she answered with her eyes to the ground. ¡°A big presentation.¡± Until that moment, she¡¯d nearly forgotten why she came here in the first place. Talking with new people was nice, but not worth the stress of dealing with Nate. But she didn¡¯t come here to deal with Nate, she came to see...if maybe she¡¯d been seeing Peter the wrong way.

    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re empty. Refill?¡± Nate asked. He grabbed for her cup without her response.

    ¡°Just beer, please,¡± she reminded him when he disappeared. It took her a moment to remember that he and Peter didn¡¯t get along. Normally, that would have been a bonus. Now it kind of made things weird.

    ¡°Are you in that class with Peter?¡± Well, at least Nate, Cam and Peter didn¡¯t gossip about her to Georgia. She seemed to be one of the few people that hadn¡¯t heard of her by name.

    ¡°Communications, yeah,¡± she answered.

    ¡°Charming girl like you must have kicked his ass!¡± she said through a loud laugh. Peter rolled his eyes. Georgia¡¯s presence, as nice as it was, made Cat¡¯s heartbeat spike. She was here to see how Peter reacted around her now that--now that what? Nothing had actually changed. What was she doing, going to a party with Nate just to sit there and talk to Peter? He had a date. She was older, prettier. Thinner, taller....

    ¡°Here you go,¡± Nate called, suddenly reappearing. Cat turned to him and offered a smile, reaching for the closest cup, but he hesitated. ¡°Oh, um. This one¡¯s yours,¡± he said, shoving the other one he held to her hand.

    ¡°Oh, sorry.¡± Didn¡¯t catch him for a germaphobe that was afraid of sharing drinks. He had no issue shoving his tongue down her throat at the last party. She tried not to let that thought linger in her mind. She took a sip of the very full cup of beer, and glanced to Nate. ¡°Thanks. This is probably my last one for a while.¡±

    ¡°Are you driving?¡± Georgia asked suddenly, eyes wide. Cat shook her head.

    ¡°No, just....¡± She sighed. ¡°I¡¯m, um, pacing myself.¡± For real this time, Nate, she wanted to add. When she glanced up at Peter, he seemed to be studying something in the distance. ¡°I have a tendency to go too hard too fast.¡± Or something like that. ¡°I...I don¡¯t want to black out or anything.¡± She couldn¡¯t help but notice that one of Peter¡¯s dimples faded onto his cheek. She couldn¡¯t tell if it was from a deep frown or not, but it seemed like it might have been. Something about it made her stomach swirl, so she took another swig of her beer.

    ¡°Hey, it¡¯s okay to celebrate,¡± Nate said, holding up his cup. ¡°End of the semester. Just finals, then we¡¯re free for the rest of the year.¡±

    ¡°Calendar year, but still,¡± Peter said. He wasn¡¯t all that focused on something else after all. Just avoiding looking at Cat. ¡°Blacking out isn¡¯t exactly fun.¡± While Georgia and Nate were keeping up a pleasant tone and polite smiles, Cat and Peter had abandoned the attempt. She was a little more certain, now, from his reactions. No matter what happened at Hannah¡¯s party, it didn¡¯t seem to matter now. He must have seen it as a mistake, just based on his tone. It was almost like he meant to say, Blacking out is a mistake. Kissing her was a mistake.

    ¡°That¡¯s not always true!¡± said Nate, laughing. ¡°Sometimes it¡¯s a lot of fun!¡± Cat and Peter remained silent, which Georgia and Nate must have taken as some sort of agreement, because they just laughed. Nate gestured with his cup again. ¡°To the last stretch!¡± Finals didn¡¯t really seem like a proper thing to toast to, but Cat participated in his toast and let him clink his plastic cup to hers, and took a swig when appropriate.

    ¡°You seem relieved the year is over. Or anxious...or something,¡± Cat murmured to him.

    ¡°I feel like I wasted it,¡± he answered too quickly. ¡°Not enough appreciating what¡¯s around. Yanno?¡± His eyes flickered up and down her frame. He raised his brows at her expectantly, but she could only shrug. She knew it was supposed to be some sort of layered compliment or something, but she didn¡¯t respond to it.

    Georgia tried to get Nate¡¯s attention. ¡°You one of the guys that live here?¡± she asked, gesturing broadly to the small cove they found themselves in. Nate nodded.

    ¡°Yeah! Mi casa es su casa. Right? Did I say that right?¡± He looked to Cat for approval. She didn¡¯t give him an answer.

    Peter crossed his arms. ¡±Se esta comportando de manera extra?a,¡± he muttered. Cat nodded without even thinking. He was right: Nate was being a little weird. Weirder than not-date nerves should allow.

    ¡°What¡¯s that mean?¡± Nate asked.

    ¡°Just another way to say mi casa, su casa,¡± Peter lied. At least it was a little nicer than when Cat called the waitress at La Hacienda a donkey. And she wasn¡¯t about to call him out on his translation lie, either.

    Nate accepted the explanation at face value. ¡°Want to go sit down?¡± This was the third time he¡¯d asked her, so she relented.

    ¡°Alright, for a bit, I guess. Maybe eat something?¡± She hadn¡¯t eaten since her early dinner with Hannah and Kelsey. She could go for more pizza. ¡°I smelled pizza when I came in.¡±

    ¡°That pizza is disgusting.¡± Nate offered his opinion without prompting, but draped his arm on her shoulders to twist her around. There wasn¡¯t a really good way to shrug his arm off without being rude or making it too obvious--and she wasn¡¯t here to embarrass him--so she let him, though Georgia seemed to have caught her expression.

    ¡°Let¡¯s hang out before the night¡¯s done,¡± Georgia said with a big smile. Cat twisted around to agree, despite Nate¡¯s enthusiastic pulling. Peter¡¯s frown was deep set at her; she tried not to look at him, but he just had this expression of--was it pity? Disappointment? Like she made an ugly choice or something. Like when she reacted to Nate¡¯s flirtation after they¡¯d returned from the Health Center. What business of his was this?

    She tried not to let it get to her as Nate led her to the living room. Some sort of TV drama was on with subtitles, and a few people meandered around or sat in extra chairs, chatting, keeping relaxed. Lots of them ate the pizza Cat smelled earlier, but the couch was empty.

    ¡°Anything else to eat?¡± she asked as she lowered herself to the plush couch. She gave Nate plenty of space to sit by the end, but he chose to sit on the other side of her, instead, to squeeze in close, his thighs touching hers. Cat scooted over a bit, laughing too hard. ¡°Sorry, I gave you, like, no space,¡± she opted to say as an excuse to scoot further away from him. He wasn¡¯t really taking any of the hints.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure what else there is to eat,¡± he asked, glancing about. ¡°Beer nuts?¡± He gestured to the coffee table in front of them. Cat shrugged, and leaned forward to set her cup down. ¡°I mean, at least beer is filling. Liquid bread, right?¡± Nate gestured to her. ¡°Do you like it?¡±

    ¡°The beer?¡± He nodded, and she shrugged. ¡°I suppose, sure.¡± To show she meant it, she reconsidered putting it down and took a swig at the same time he did.

    ¡°Good.¡± Okay, he was officially running out of things to talk about, if watered-down frat beer was his topic of choice. She was about to try and come up with something to talk about, but Nate adjusted himself to face her fully--the telltale sign he was into her, and for none of his buddies to approach. Ugh.... What could she say to get out of this?

 Chapter 33

    Nate brought a leg up onto the couch so that he could face her completely. Cat didn¡¯t reciprocate the gesture, but looked at him all the same, ready to listen to whatever spiel he had planned.

    ¡°I just wanted to say thanks for giving me a second chance,¡± Nate said, resting his cup on his knee. ¡°I know I can come off kind of strong.¡± Well, at least he was self-aware. Cat gave him a small smile.

    ¡°Oh, well--I mean, you¡¯re fun to hang out with,¡± she started, choosing her words carefully. ¡°And, I mean, I¡¯m not really into the dating scene right now anyway. I just kind of want to--¡± Cat shrugged, keeping her expression carefree and light. Was he buying it? ¡°I just want to hang out, get used to this kind of life. You know. Make friends.¡± She couldn¡¯t quite tell if he believed her or not. Nate seemed to be controlling his expression just as much as she was, but he smoothed it over, smiling as he raised his cup.

    ¡°More friends is never a bad thing,¡± he said. She let out a small sigh of relief. ¡°To second chances?¡± Well, this wasn¡¯t exactly a second chance, per se--¡°And I have to say,¡± Nate continued as he waited for her to address his millionth toast with a sip, ¡°whatever you¡¯re doing now is working. I mean, you look like you¡¯re glowing. You look gorgeous.¡± Well, she did just peel off a hundred layers of skin this afternoon. Cat laughed, her thoughts lingering on the image of Kelsey and Hannah.

    ¡°We had a girl¡¯s day--¡± She blinked. ¡°Hannah, my roommate, and our friend Kelsey.¡±

    ¡°Kelsey....¡± Nate trailed off, squinting. ¡°Kelsey Wood?¡± Oh!

    ¡°You know Kelsey?¡± Cat realized, raising her cup to her lips for another sip. ¡°I didn¡¯t know that.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know her, know her,¡± he clarified, shrugging. ¡°The redhead?¡± Cat confirmed with a nod. ¡°She seemed fun.¡±

    ¡°How do you ¡®know¡¯ her?¡± She used air-quotes with her free hand.

    ¡°She hung around a bit. Last year, she kind of saw Cam for a while near the end of the year, and then she was hanging out with Peter a lot a month or two ago; I think they were together....¡± Cat blinked.

    ¡°They were dating?¡± she asked, a little uncertain. Was that why he pretended not to remember kissing her at Hannah¡¯s party, because he was trying to go after Kelsey? Oh, now she felt like an absolute idiot.

    ¡°Kind of, I think. I don¡¯t know. She¡¯s got a type.¡± Nate laughed, but Cat just pressed her cup on her lips, blinking slowly. She vaguely remembered Cam saying something like that to Peter, about them dating the same girls. Now, Cat realized with wide eyes, Cam was also referring to her. And during Halloween, that moment when they stood alone in his dorm¡­. ¡°You okay?¡± Aside from the small tornado in her stomach? Great. She stopped herself from giving into the urge to chug the rest of her drink, but only after the second gulp.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± she said, putting on a smile. Cat sighed. She didn¡¯t really mean to, but the sound escaped her before she could register what she was doing. ¡°Just, um, relaxing,¡± she added. Nate smiled at her.

    ¡°Good. You deserve to relax.¡± His words were soft, like he really meant them. And he was right--she did deserve to relax. And the beer and a half was helping. Even though it wasn¡¯t much, she already felt her muscles loosen. ¡°You had a presentation?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Yeah, huge debate. I got a zero on it at first because I....¡± She sighed, shaking her head. ¡°Well, I got to make it up. And apparently we did okay, but I was so nervous....¡± Vaguely, she was aware of Nate¡¯s hand on the back of the couch, blurry on the peripherals of her vision.

    ¡°Was that against Peter?¡± Cat nodded to his question, and he raised his cup. ¡°I bet you did great.¡± She took his hint to sip at her beer again. Her throat didn¡¯t seem to want to swallow it, but she forced it down, and added another gulp for good measure when she felt a cough forming in her chest. Nate asked her something else, but she didn¡¯t catch it. Even when he repeated it, she didn¡¯t hear him.

    ¡°Hmm?¡± She¡¯d almost forgot she was having a conversation for a moment, and nodded, blinking. ¡°Sorry--I feel kind of spacey.¡± Cat let out a small laugh to keep the air light, and Nate shrugged.

    ¡°You¡¯re finally relaxing,¡± he said with a smile. Cat couldn¡¯t help but agree. After all the pressure she put on herself, it¡¯s no wonder how she reacted so severely to a few face masks and the only weekend without homework she¡¯d ever experienced here. She didn¡¯t have any homework, right?

    ¡°Did we have homework?¡± she asked to herself. Her words felt soggy and slow. Nate laughed and shook his head.

    ¡°What, you gunna go do it right now? Don¡¯t worry about it!¡± He was right. He answered so fast and certain compared to her, so he must have been. Cat sighed and moved to lean back against the couch, but she must have been too unsteady. She fell into Nate¡¯s hand, and her drink spilled just a little bit onto the couch.

    ¡°Shit,¡± Cat murmured, glancing down at the small stain. Wait. Was it that stain? Or that one? This couch had a lot of stains.... But suddenly a warm hand cupped her cheek, and it wasn¡¯t until she could see Nate¡¯s closed eyes right in front of her that she felt the pressure of his mouth on hers. His tongue pried at her lips, struggling to pry them apart; it took her just an extra second to lean back, away from him, to laugh. ¡°I--gotta pee--¡± And drink water. Really, two weak beers and she already felt this lightheaded? This tingly?

    She wasn¡¯t sure why her stomach felt so low, why her heart fluttered in warning. Something in the back of her mind was screaming at her to be careful. And, as if on instructions by someone else, Cat heard herself say, ¡°Don¡¯t wanna pee on the couch!¡± and laughed very loudly. A few heads turned to look at her sudden outburst of laughter. Nate¡¯s laugh felt inauthentic, but he released her to let her rise on her own, and even offered a hand for her to brace against so she could get up without spilling more of her cup. Why was she holding this? Well, it was getting low. Maybe she wanted a refill. She didn¡¯t remember making that decision, but Nate held up his cup, too. Oh, that¡¯s how, she figured. He was asking for her to refill. How did she not hear him? Or did she just forget?

    ¡°Oh!¡± she sounded, taking it with her free hand. ¡°Okay. I¡¯ll...refill.¡± Standing here, taking his cup out of his hand, gave her a moment to steady herself.

    ¡°And pee.¡±

    ¡°And pee,¡± Cat echoed. She shook her head. ¡°Sorry--you were refilling, I was peeing?¡± Before she could fully pull his cup away, she shoved it back at him and twisted around. Something was wrong. She didn¡¯t need to pee. Why did she say she needed to? But she must have, if she said she did. Cat spotted the doorway to the--kitchen? Was that the kitchen? Kitchens were usually white. Or a lot of them were.

    ¡°Don¡¯t want to assume someone¡¯s kitchen,¡± Cat muttered to herself. Somehow, something warm wrapped around her waist. She took a step forward, and felt the resistance of Nate¡¯s arm.

    ¡°Just helping,¡± he said, laughing at her. ¡°What was that about a kitchen?¡±

    Stolen novel; please report.

    ¡°What about what kitchen?¡±

    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s go.¡± Hand on her hip, he gently nudged her forward; she could feel his breath on her neck, he walked so close. They¡¯d made it to the small cove that had the bathroom and the way to the small room of doors. Nate¡¯s other hand grabbed her other hip. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered what happened to his cup, why he wasn¡¯t holding it. Then when they¡¯d gotten to the bathroom door, Nate took her cup from her hands and put his hand on the knob.

    ¡°Someone¡¯s in there,¡± he said. ¡°Well, we can wait.¡±

    ¡°Someone...,¡± Cat echoed, her eyes staring at the knob. It looked like the metal was peeling away. How did metal peel away from a doorknob? But as she tried to picture what the knob may have looked like before, she spun and spun, until something cold and sturdy met her back, and something warm and wet started to suck on her neck.

    It took a second, and it almost hurt to think that hard, but when her eyes settled, she could see the kitchen in front of her, and could vaguely feel Nate¡¯s warmth pressing against her. Was he serious right now? She couldn¡¯t even form a coherent thought--why did he think this was the time to try and kiss her?

    Though the warmth did feel good, especially with the contrast of the cold wall. And he was kind of holding her up for her, so she didn¡¯t have to put any effort into standing. So that was nice. And after he was done sucking on her neck and leaving her sloppy kisses, the bathroom door opened.

    ¡°Ew, don¡¯t do that in there. That¡¯s the only bathroom.¡± She didn¡¯t recognize the voice, but her eyes were closed. And by the time she opened them, the person was gone and she could only see Nate¡¯s face in front of her.

    ¡°Do what?¡± she found herself asking. Nate chuckled.

    ¡°We¡¯re just relaxing.¡± He kept nipping at her neck, but the feeling was dull, as if she watched from above. ¡°Maybe after this we can go lay down. You know...to keep...relaxing.¡±

    ¡°Relaxing,¡± she echoed. ¡°Um, okay.¡± But there was a rock in her stomach she couldn¡¯t figure out. Nate finally stepped back from her.

    ¡°Alright, go pee. I¡¯ll get you some more...liquid courage.¡± But she didn¡¯t have to pee. And if this is what two beers did to her, she didn¡¯t need any more. Nate spun around and headed to the small line of people at the pony keg on the table. Cat¡¯s hands braced the wall now that she didn¡¯t have him there to hold her up.

    ¡°That was quick,¡± came another voice. Cat blinked and stared at the ceiling.

    ¡°God?¡± she whispered. Shit, she was such a bad Catholic. God must have thought she was such a jerk.

    The voice seemed confused. ¡°Um, what?¡± Cat jumped at the sudden sound, and found Georgia standing by the doorway to the side yard, staring at her like she was crazy.

    ¡°Oh,¡± she sounded. ¡°Hello.¡± Maybe God didn¡¯t think she was a jerk. Maybe he was too busy watching someone else sin to see her disappoint her family.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t think you were into him,¡± Georgia said. Her face was so hard to focus on, but the lights from outside backlit her hair in a perfect halo. Maybe she was God.

    ¡°Who?¡±

    ¡°Nate.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± Cat sighed. ¡°What about him?¡± Did he say something? She didn¡¯t mean to lead him on, but he was just so excited. Georgia made a sound like she was thinking, and Cat took the time to try and ground herself, squeezing her eyes shut. That feeling from before--the sirens in her head, sounded again.

    ¡°I don¡¯t feel...,¡± Cat managed to say through a breath. ¡°I think something¡¯s wrong.¡±

    ¡°I think you¡¯re right about that,¡± Georgia¡¯s voice had a worried twinge to it; her tone was familiar, like when Cat¡¯s mom found out about when she hit her head. Mi pobre ni?a.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Peter this time. When did he get here? She couldn¡¯t seem to figure out how to open her eyes, though. ¡°Why do you look like that?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s very rude,¡± was all Cat could manage to say. When her hand went to her forehead to try and hold it up, it was hot to the touch. ¡°And--something--doesn¡¯t feel good.¡± But was it her stomach, or her chest, or her head?

    ¡°It¡¯s--it¡¯s only been like twenty minutes since we last saw you--¡± As Peter started to say something, she could feel cold, small hands pulling her toward the giant, white door that led to the bathroom. The sound of her knees thudding against the linoleum rang in her ears; an echoey voice told her to throw up.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have to,¡± she started to say, but suddenly the sound of retching filled the air. At least it didn¡¯t have that strong of an odor. She hated when people threw up in front of her.

    But when Cat opened her eyes to see the underside of the toilet lid, she realized in horror that it was her that was vomiting. Why was she throwing up? Oh, that awful, sour and rusty taste of stomach acid¡­.

    ¡°I think--do you think?¡± Georgia asked. Wow. Why was she in the bathroom with her? That was a little weird. Who followed someone into a bathroom?

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Wait, why was Peter in here, too? If she could lift her head out of this toilet, she would definitely be having words right now. But right now she could only clutch the sides of the porcelain throne and empty her guts out. God, her stomach hurt. Now she sweat just as hard as if she ran her mile a few moments ago.

    ¡°What did you do after you stopped talking to us?¡± Peter¡¯s voice was really close, now, right by her ear. Cat flinched. Someone moved her side braid to over her shoulder, keeping it out of the way. She managed to sit up for a bit, but kept her eyes shut. They were getting watery. If she kept going like this, her mascara would leave rivers down her cheeks.

    ¡°I--we just talked.¡± Cat¡¯s voice was rough, weak. The light from overhead was brighter than the darkness of her eyelids; the fan from the ancient vent rattled. ¡°And then I....¡± As her hands tensed, Cat shut her eyes even tighter, and curled further into the toilet for another bout of Ralph and Bart. The metallic flavor on her tongue reminded her to keep talking, but her shoulders started to shake. It was as if her body started to realize what was going on before her brain dared acknowledge it. Her mother sent her countless articles, all warning the same thing: If you feel too drunk too fast, and the amount of alcohol doesn¡¯t match your reaction, run. ¡°I--I only had two beers....¡± Her face tingled, eyes hot and welling tears. No, she thought to herself. I was careful¡­.

    ¡°Oh my God,¡± Georgia sounded on the other side of Cat. ¡°Were you drugged? What--what do we do? What do we do?¡±

    Peter¡¯s voice wasn¡¯t any steadier. ¡°I don¡¯t know! But--do we--do we call...?¡±

    Cat gasped through the tears that ran down her face; she breathed too fast to fully sob. Her knuckles were as white as the porcelain she gripped, but she still somehow managed to shake her head ever-so slightly.

    ¡°No,¡± she managed to say. That wasn¡¯t possible. She couldn¡¯t have been drugged. ¡°No, I--I think I¡¯m allergic--¡±

    ¡°Cat....¡± God, not this. anything but this. Why did he say her name like that, like a secret?

    She gasped for more air. ¡°I¡¯m--I have to be--¡±

    ¡°Cat, come on--¡±

    ¡°No!¡± There didn¡¯t seem to be anything else coming up from her stomach, even though it ached so sharply that she wouldn¡¯t be surprised if her entire intestines came out of her throat. She balled her hands into fists, but no matter how hard she clenched, she still shivered. This wasn¡¯t happening. This wasn¡¯t real. That was just some made-up statistic parents said to worry about their daughters. This didn¡¯t happen in real life--she wasn¡¯t actually¡­. Nate didn¡¯t really¡­.

    ¡°Oh--uh, roommate!¡± Georgia sounded. ¡°Do you have a roommate?¡±

    ¡°No--¡±

    Peter interrupted her. ¡°Yes, let me--¡±

    ¡°Stop, no! Don¡¯t!¡± Cat cried. This didn¡¯t sound like her voice. Nothing here felt real, not the cold of the floor or the throbbing in her throat. Every part of her felt so distant, like she waded through water with heavy clothes.

    ¡°Why not? She can help--¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t say anything,¡± Cat blurted desperately. She shut her eyes tight again, this time keeping them that way. Her tears dripped into the toilet; and finally, she had to admit that she was completely numb to the touch. This was bad. Whatever Nate gave her--

    ¡°Why not?¡± Peter demanded. ¡°This is serious.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t tell anyone--I didn¡¯t--I didn¡¯t mean to--¡± She couldn¡¯t hold back her sob this time. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean for him to think¡­.¡±

    ¡°Shh,¡± Georgia hushed her. ¡°It¡¯s not your fault.¡± Something soft and wet touched her hand; when Cat looked up, she could see Georgia passing her a wet paper towel. Cat began dabbing her face with it, though her hands were too shaky to wipe away her mascara with any precision.

    ¡°Hannah isn¡¯t answering¡­.¡± She glanced over to see Peter, sitting on the ledge of the bathtub, shaking his head at his phone. ¡°Let me try Cam.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t--¡± Cat started again. She went to swipe at his phone, but her movements were so much slower than his, and all he had to do was move a little bit. ¡°Please, please don¡¯t say anything.¡±

    "Why?¡± Through her fog, she finally caught the shine of his bright, green eyes; they were so much easier to focus on, the only thing of color in this ceramic closet. Staring into them somehow relaxed her stomach and constricted her chest at the same time.

    ¡°I--I don¡¯t know what¡¯s going on,¡± was the only full thought she could blurt out. Was that her voice? It was so much higher than she thought it was, quieter. What happened to the girl that put everyone in their place? She wanted to feel a fire in her stomach to yell at him, but maybe it wasn¡¯t necessary. Peter¡¯s expression softened, and he just sighed at her.

    ¡°Okay,¡± he said quietly. He slid off of the side of the bathtub to kneel next to her. ¡°Okay. Let¡¯s get you safe first.¡±

 Chapter 34

    Georgia must have been sent from God. The entire walk home, she kept one of Cat''s arms on her shoulders, encouraged her to lean. Peter walked on the other side of her, his hands always out and at the ready in case she fell. As hard as it was to be aware of anything, she seemed to constantly be aware of how he was so close to touching her arm, but never did.

    The night was so freezing; the wind howled and ruined her hair even more than vomiting in a toilet did.

    The lights of the campus shone just ahead. Cat stared at them for a moment, her eyes wide, her chest still tight. For a brief moment, her heart stopped altogether.

    "I--I--" she started in a panic, "I don''t know how we got here!" Her head full of cotton, her palms sweaty even in the bitter breeze. Cat tried to steal her arm back from Georgia''s shoulder, tried to curl into herself, but Peter''s warm hand rested on her elbow, gentle, hardly there.

    "It''s okay, it''s okay," he started to chant. Georgia stopped moving to try and help, but this only let Cat slip out of her gasp. The concrete came up faster than she thought it would; sharp pangs shot up her knees; little rocks from the pavement dug into her palms, but she couldn''t even keep her eyes open long enough to pick them out. Instead, she pressed her skin further into the ground and struggled to gasp for air. The sharp pangs from the ragged edges were the only thing becoming clearer to her, even though her breath was far gone. It was like she only breathed dust and motor oil. Nothing was clear enough to actually get to her lungs; the harder she tried to breathe, the more air she needed. Deep breaths weren''t working. Fast breaths weren''t working. Her heart fluttered faster than her rib cage could handle--any minute now, she''d asphyxiate and die, or her heart would give out and she''d die, or she''d breathe in too much dirt and suffocate and die--

    Her limbs must have frozen to the bone; someone tried to pry them open, to get her to stand, but every inch of movement was protested by each effort. Through the struggle, just beyond the loud pumping of her blood in her ears, she could hear a gentle counting. One, two, three, four. Hold, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four. In, two, three, four. Somehow, she understood that was how she was supposed to tell herself how to breathe. That was how long her breaths were supposed to be.

    Eventually, she managed to match the counting. When she tried to open her eyes, her lashes clung to her cheeks, wet and sticky from makeup.

    "There you go," came the calm voice. Different than the counting. "Up, up, up.... Yes, lean into me." Georgia lifted slowly, carefully, her tiny hands so cold in the wind. Peter''s was still warm, somehow, and only offered gentle support.

    "Oh my God," Cat realized when they''d finally gotten to her feet. "Oh my God." She couldn''t remember how they left the house. "I--I can''t remember--he almost--I almost--!"

    "That''s not the point of the breathing," Peter said. Cat could hardly register that their feet moved. Was she doing anything to help, or were they just dragging her?

    "But I--"

    "You''re okay now." His words just bounced right off of her.

    "I didn''t even want to go to this stupid party--"

    "Cat," Georgia interrupted this time, "can you tell me how to get to your dorm?" Cat sucked in a breath and finally was able to glance to her. "We are taking you home so you can go to sleep, safe and sound." Safe? How was she safe? "Is it this way?" Georgia gestured with her head. Why wasn''t Peter saying something, telling her where to go? Cat nodded, though.

    "Does Nate--" Peter started to ask, though she flinched. "Does he know which dorm you are?" Oh, God. Did she have to worry about that now? Because he didn''t actually finish what he started? She whimpered.

    "I--I don''t know," she admitted, high-pitched.

    "Where do we go to get to your dorm, Cat?" Georgia asked quietly. They reached a fork in the road, right under a lamppost. Cat blinked into the light, struggling to force her vision to focus.

    "R-right," she stammered. The walking seemed to help; despite the lack of Peter''s counting, she was able to hear it in her head anyway through their very methodical and careful steps. She didn''t have to lean on Georgia completely anymore.

    Slowly, they made their way to Casa del Sol; dew that peppered the flowers and grass started to freeze, and their breath almost completely fogged the way to the door. Peter rushed up to the entrance and unlocked it with his key.

    "I--I think I''ve got it, now," Cat said. Georgia let her take her arm back, and Peter stood with the door open. Her vision was still blurry, and she wasn''t as certain on her feet as she was used to, but the worst had passed. Now all that was left was this awful dread in her chest she couldn''t shake: a feeling close to shame and betrayal.

    "You''re okay?" Georgia asked. Cat nodded, keeping her gaze to the floor.

    "Thank you," she said quietly. The wind was picking up; Peter white-knuckled the door to keep it open. Before she could reward herself with the warmth of inside, she looked up to Georgia. "Sorry for ruining your date."

    Georgia sounded like she choked on a repressed laugh. "Date? That guy?" Cat didn''t look to where she pointed. "You''re more of my type." Oh. Ooooh. Rainbow shirt and a jean jacket, hanging out with Peter--

    "Oh, that makes more sense." She didn''t mean to say it like that, but she could hear Peter let out a small laugh behind her.

    "What do you mean by that?" Georgia raised a brow.

    Cat shrugged. "I mean, you''re really nice, and cool to be around...."

    Georgia let out a loud "Ha!" and even threw her head back from it. "Oh my God!" Her smile was massive and brilliant; distracting enough to keep Cat''s breath even. "Even roofied, she''s sharp!"

    "Wait, that''s not what I meant--"

    "I know," Georgia said, recovering with a deep breath. "You''re a sweet girl. Peter, text me to let me know she made it back okay, would you?" The girl let out a shiver and placed a hand on Cat''s shoulder. "I need you to know you''re not alone in this. You aren''t the only girl to go through this, okay?" She could only blink. "You''re going to be alright." As she said this, the lowness in Cat''s stomach lifted just a little. Maybe she would be. Not tonight, but now she could think of something other than tonight just by Georgia''s sweeping promise.

    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    After a sad smile and a wave, Cat thanked her and turned to go into the dorm room.

    Peter remained silent all the way to the elevator, until the dinging box brought them to the second floor.

    "Are you going to talk to someone?" he asked. Cat flinched from his suddenness, and looked up to him. She could only shrug. "You should...even if it''s just Hannah or Kelsey." Her mind automatically rejected the notion, but instead she turned away and headed to the open doors of the elevator. Hannah and Kelsey wouldn''t hear anything about this from her.

    "I kept your secret," was all she could manage to say.

    <hr>

    Hannah wasn''t home. There wasn''t even a note as to why, and Cat was totally fine with that. She dead-bolted her dorm room, locked the window, shut the blinds, and kept her back in the corner of her room. The wall was freezing, so she instead curled in her comforter like she did the night before, this time laying on her side with her head on the pillow. She was in a tight ball, and any time she managed to fall asleep and stretch out, she immediately woke up to return to the fetal position. According to her alarm clock, there wasn''t a single hour she didn''t wake up to.

    The fogginess took its time to lift. Even though she threw up most of whatever Nate slipped in her drink, the bits she did ingest left her with a headache she knew Tylenol wouldn''t fix.

    Every minute passed slower than molasses. One second, her head pounded; the next, her eyes were too heavy to keep open; then Nate''s face would flash in her mind, and her heart would jolt her right out of any semblance of sleep she might have gotten. Any time she woke up from the beginnings of the nightmare she almost experienced, Cat struggled to tell herself it was only a dream.

    When the sun began to peak through the edges of her blinds, she decided to give up trying to sleep off this disgusting feeling. It was more than the usual after-feel of vomiting in a toilet in a stranger''s house, more than how stupid she felt for going to the party in the first place, more than the ugly shame. Shame for not listening to herself. She should have known better, she should have seen this coming--and even after deciding what she felt for Nate, she still ignored all the warning signs. And now--what would he do? There was no hiding the fact that she left so suddenly, even though she couldn''t remember how they did manage to get out of the house. Would he look for her? Call her? Would he be angry?

    What could she do now? At least she was only here a few more days. Then she''d be home, with her family, far, far away from him.

    Cat returned from her shower feeling no different at all. That was probably the most disappointing thing. After a nightmare, a shower was a great way to shake off the sleep and start again. But this nightmare....

    She took off to the library before Hannah even returned. Focusing on literally anything else was the only hope she had to keep herself together.

    But then on the way there, she got an alert.

    PumpkinKing started a thread!

    Insomnia Hacks. Why couldn''t he have posted something like that sooner? But when she clicked on the link, she found that he was asking for insomnia hacks, not giving them. She sighed. All the efforts of her walk to the library to try and focus on her finals went out the window with that one notification. Now she thought of how all yesterday, he took the time to send her funny things to help her de-stress with Kelsey and Hannah....

    She didn''t even know this guy she''d been talking to for months. She had no idea what his face looked like, or if he ever said anything truthful to her in the first place. The more she scrolled through their past conversations, the worse her stomach felt. What if he was like Nate? What if he just turned out to be another creep on the Internet? He might not have asked for her real name yet, but what if he wanted to meet?

    Cat meandered through the surprisingly busy library to try and find somewhere to sit, somewhere in a corner where she could keep her eyes on whomever passed. She had to go all the way to the sixth floor, and even move one of the study cubes so she could press the back of the chair against a wall.

    By then, she realized what she was doing, assigning all the fear to Pumpkin. It was safer, easier to assume everyone was a danger. Pumpkin didn''t set off any of her alarms. Nate did. But she still found herself opening her messages on Talkative.

    She couldn''t keep looking at her phone to depend on someone else to give her a funny joke to make her smile. She couldn''t depend on a guy to make her feel more secure. The fact was that she wasn''t careful. Not at other parties, not when she walked to class. She was negligent. Never watched her own drink, never made sure someone always knew where she was, never stuck to the lit parts of the street or tested someone''s trustworthiness. And this sort of thing...this habit of talking to strangers, or drinking in unfamiliar places--it would get her hurt or killed. It almost did already.

    Cat sighed at the messages with PumpkinKing. Until she could be sure, she needed to back away from everything.

    Hey..., she typed. I just wanted to let you know that I''m going to take a break from Talkative for a while. Cat chewed on her lip and clutched her bag to her chest.

    Are you okay? came his prompt response. It made her chest ache.

    I''m okay. Just need to distance myself for a while. Focus on myself. It wasn''t fair to assign all of her anxiety to the only guy that consistently made her smile throughout the semester. Not when she couldn''t even trust her own thoughts, or her own instincts. But it also wasn''t fair to just drop off the face of the planet.

    Did I say something wrong? Oh...now she felt so guilty for what she thought before. How could she just assume he was a monster like Nate? But how could she even know in the first place? Nate seemed nice. He helped her after her head injury.

    No, I promise, she typed. But her eyes felt so warm, her throat so thick. You''re great. You''ve done nothing wrong. You only ever make me laugh and smile. But she could completely understand why this felt like a punishment, like he did something wrong and she was doing this just to be nice.

    I don''t understand, Pumpkin replied. Did something happen? God, he was so intuitive. Cat sucked in a shaky breath. She couldn''t tell him what happened. She couldn''t tell anyone. It was bad enough Peter knew.

    I do really like you, she admitted, but I need to delete this app for a little while. Good luck on finals.... She knew that if she waited for him to reply, that he might have been able to convince her not to delete the app after all, so she instead went straight to her settings and finished it without any other thought.

    Two halves of her were at war: the panic that told her this was for the best, that distancing herself from everyone, especially if she didn''t actually know them, was safest. Last night could have been so much worse if Georgia and Peter...well, she couldn''t quite remember what they did or said. But they could have easily just left her there, left her to--

    The other half scolded her. She looked weak, sticking herself in a corner with nowhere to go, cutting ties and cowering behind her studies. And even though there was literally nothing she could have done to prevent Nate from targeting her like he did, her mind jumped to the gossip she heard in high school. To the news about the victims of this sort of thing. "She was a loose girl anyway." Or even when she was a teenager, before she knew better, she even asked someone, "Well, did she ever say she didn''t want it?" Even her father yelled at her mother one time, after her mom shared some news article about the statistics of college assault. He said, "What do these stupid girls expect? They go out to get drunk, dressed all slutty. Of course someone''s going to take advantage."

    She needed to focus on herself. Cat knew that at some point, she was going to have to deal with the lasting effects of something like last night...but her finals. They were a convenient distraction, and if she thought about everything too much, she didn''t know if she would be able to piece herself back together.

    With her decision made, Cat gave herself just a few minutes to cry. It wasn''t for a deleted app or anything. Or even a direct response to the lack of sleep, the fear that struck her heart any time she thought she saw someone out of the corner of her eye, or mourning the loss of a friendship she just broke. But she knew...nothing was going to be the same after this. She couldn''t undo anything or forget the ugliness she''d just seen.

 Chapter 35

    Cat didn¡¯t initially intend to avoid everyone. She actively forced herself to emerge from the library for dinner with everyone on Sunday night, however much it made her limbs physically ache to. (Another symptom of being poisoned, she thought to herself.)

    Cam, Kelsey, Hannah--they were in good moods. A little anxious for finals to start, but smiling easily and keeping track of every piece of conversation. Cameron was apparently very disappointed to find out that his date from last night was one of the worst lovers he¡¯d ever had, and not for lack of trying. Cat struggled to pay attention, struggled to nod and laugh and ¡°aw¡± when appropriate. Peter seemed to have an easier time pretending nothing was wrong. If he wasn¡¯t just the tiniest bit tense, she would have been able to convince herself that the entirety of last night was one, giant fever dream. But she could tell, by the way he looked at her. He was there. He remembered very clearly. She had a brand right in the middle of her forehead from it.

    ¡°...just passed out after watching movies and eating too much ice cream,¡± Hannah said, answering one of Cam¡¯s questions. ¡°By the way, Peter--¡± She turned to him suddenly. ¡°Sorry for missing your calls last night. I forgot my phone was on silent, and by the time I saw them, I figured you were passed out in the middle of a Denny¡¯s parking lot or something.¡± The table laughed.

    Peter shrugged, his dimples trying their hardest to make his smile look genuine. ¡°Oh, just drunk dialing. Nothing to worry about.¡± The relief rushing through Cat¡¯s veins made her feel like she would faint. ¡°I called Cat, too. I thought I was talking to a literal cat. Like the animal.¡± Well. She could have gone without that exaggerated, old, stupid joke. Cam, Kelsey, and Hannah laughed, and Cat found his stupid lie obnoxious enough to roll her eyes. They bought it.

    But the pressure was almost too much. When they returned to the dorms, Hannah was so animated, excited, nervous about her finals, but also sighing about how she was going to miss everyone. Cat couldn¡¯t keep up.

    ¡°You seem down,¡± she finally noted when Cat didn¡¯t laugh at one of her jokes. ¡°You afraid for finals?¡± Yes, Cat thought. Let¡¯s go with that. Afraid for finals, not afraid that whenever she least expected it, she¡¯d turn around and¡­.

    ¡°Just my first college finals,¡± she decided to say, her eyes on the ground. ¡°I want to do well.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll do fine. If anyone¡¯s going to crush it, it¡¯s you. What¡¯s your schedule like again?¡±

    Cat glanced to her alarm clock and sighed. ¡°Eight AM human sexuality, and Tuesday I have an in-class essay analyzing some short story yet to be determined and stats immediately after, and communications Wednesday night at six.¡±

    ¡°And you¡¯re leaving Thursday morning?¡±

    ¡°Actually,¡± Cat corrected, her eyes on her phone, ¡°I found a cheaper ticket for Wednesday night after the final. I already booked it. Then I can sleep on the bus and see my family right in the morning.¡± It wasn¡¯t, ultimately, what made her decide to get the earlier ticket, it was just an added perk. And it wasn¡¯t like she was positive she¡¯d be able to sleep one extra night here, anyway. Hannah let out a disappointed ¡°oh.¡±

    ¡°Well, at least we can say goodbye at lunch or something. I¡¯ve got a final Wednesday night, too.¡± Sweet, wonderful Hannah. Cat ached when she decided to go to bed early, thinking of her roomie¡¯s tone. While Hannah stayed up and read some sort of assignment for one of her finals tomorrow morning, Cat stared at the back of her eyelids and struggled to see anyone¡¯s face but Nate¡¯s.

    <hr>

    Not seeing her friends was very easy. Their schedules all conflicted; and best of all, she wouldn¡¯t see any sign of Peter until their final for communications, as he had some stupid math final when they all agreed to get lunch together. And the excuse this time for ¡°seeming down¡±?

    ¡°I¡¯m going to miss you guys.¡± After a long group hug, Kelsey, Hannah, and Cam bid her goodbye for the last time this calendar year. Her reason was perfectly acceptable to them. The only person it wouldn¡¯t work on was in her communications final, and he wasn¡¯t allowed to speak to her because talking during a final was an automatic fail.

    Cat sped through hers. Not because it was easy or anything, but because she just couldn¡¯t find the energy to double-check her answers like she usually did. She was burnt out, her brain sizzling. And her memory was shot from lack of sleep. Too many times she came across a question and just thought, ¡°Fuck it, let¡¯s say C.¡± If she had any space to feel anything more, she would have hated herself for it.

    She was the first one done. That used to make her nervous, but when Cat slapped down her test on Professor Harlem¡¯s desk, the only thing she felt was a weight lift off of her shoulders.

    Maybe she rushed out of there too fast. Maybe she should have cared a little bit more, but all she could do was look at the time on her phone and calculate how much time until she sat on the stupid bus to go home and get out of here.

    ¡°Cat, wait--¡± Instinctively, Cat clutched her bag and flinched. What used to just fill her with excitement now set off so much adrenaline. Something as simple as someone saying her name and approaching her. ¡°You¡¯re leaving tonight, right?¡± It took her a moment to let the blood drain from pounding in her ears. Cat turned around slowly; Peter stood, without his bag or anything, looking to her for an answer. Did he just walk out of there? She squinted.

    ¡°Are you done with your final?¡±

    He shrugged at her. ¡°Bathroom break. Are you leaving now?¡± She regarded him, attempting to take in his form. This would be the last time she saw him until next year. It was so different from when she first saw him in August. Sure, he wore the same exact jeans and a similar t-shirt under his jacket, but everything else was different. His hair was a little longer, his stubble more grown out. His eyes were softer, and even though he wasn¡¯t as quiet, he seemed far less angry. Whereas her first reaction to him when they ended up in the same orientation group was a shallow attraction and a deeper hatred, now...she couldn¡¯t even navigate what she felt when she saw him. There was too much of whatever it was, stuffing her chest and clogging her thoughts.

    Relief that it was him calling after her, excitement still lingered, like an automatic reaction. But the residual fear from before--and now whenever he looked at her, it was tainted with what he saw that night. Worst of all, she could hardly remember what happened, just that she sobbed her eyes out and could barely walk. And that she would just walk into a situation like that¡­. How could he take her seriously?

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    ¡°Cat?¡± At some point while she looked at him, she was transferred to the panic, the quick breathing, tingling limbs. He snapped her out of her trance. ¡°Are you going to talk to someone when you get home?¡± She scowled at him.

    ¡°It¡¯s really none of your business,¡± she said pointedly. Peter sighed at her.

    ¡°Then could you just...text someone when you get home so we know you made it there safely?¡± There it was. Concern, genuine fear for her safety. Cat was a wounded bird and he was this knight in shining armor that wanted to nurse her back to health and give her strength. She scoffed. The influx of superhero movies was getting to his head. She didn¡¯t exist to make him feel better about navigating trauma. Her healing from this wasn¡¯t a substitute for him healing from his.

    But she didn¡¯t say any of that. She simply didn¡¯t have the energy to argue. So instead, she said, ¡°See you around.¡± At least her annoyance with him was enough to distract her from the shadows of the night, or the eerie orange flickering of the street lamps while she walked to the bus depot.

    <hr>

    Cat hoped being home would be different. She counted on it, even. But she didn¡¯t think it would be this strange. The next day, she was like a zombie, dark circles under her eyes, no energy, moving slowly. Her brother still had school and her parents were at work, so she was by herself most of the day, alone.

    Yet as she sat on the couch of the only home she¡¯d ever lived in her whole life, she felt like a stranger. She wasn¡¯t the same person that left. The old Cat from months ago had withered away from stress and confusion, and she was now this...shell.

    Her family definitely noticed a difference, but accepted her excuse of being tired...for about three days. Then she had to pretend to be happy to be home, and it all felt like a massive lie. Not that she wasn¡¯t happy to be home...it was just so much duller than it was supposed to be.

    At least during the week, they didn¡¯t notice that Cat spent the whole time sleeping, or staring at the ceiling. And by the time Gabe was done with school and remained home all the time, just like she did, the hype had gone down and questions about her semester simmered away and he was back to spending the whole day with his friends.

    But nothing else changed. When her family could see, she traded staring at the ceiling to staring at the TV. Cat napped more in the two month break from school than she ever did as a toddler. Obviously, her parents didn¡¯t notice--or they didn¡¯t say anything if they did.

    Gabe was a little more sensitive to it. It took him a long time to bring it up, until her last week home.

    ¡°You¡¯re different,¡± he said one afternoon as he sat on the couch with her. She didn¡¯t address his statement. ¡°Like...I don¡¯t know. At first I thought it was because you were tired, or Christmas was smaller than usual, or that we didn¡¯t really celebrate New Years, but¡­.¡± Cat averted her gaze to her hands. She couldn¡¯t pretend to watch TV when it was just the same three commercials over and over again.

    ¡°I feel different,¡± she admitted after a while.

    ¡°Bad?¡± She glanced up to her little brother. Thick, dark hair, just like hers but cropped closer to his head. Brown eyes, almost black in certain light. They were never mistaken for anything other than siblings when they were out, and not just because she liked to beat the crap out of him before he went through puberty. She didn¡¯t beat him up anymore, now that he could literally throw her across a room (but he only did that once, by accident), but she did pick at him with her words. He grew to defend himself from that, too. Now their uncanny similarities extended far more than just looks; arguments were a common occurrence, in and out of the house.

    Gabe was very gentle with her this break. She didn¡¯t throw very many punches; maybe he sensed things were...different.

    ¡°Different bad?¡± Gabe pressed, his words wading through her brain fog.

    Cat shrugged and looked away. ¡°Maybe.¡±

    ¡°Is it because of your head?¡± God, she nearly forgot about that. ¡°They say that if you have a big bump to the noggin¡¯ that it can literally change your personality. Or like, drugs, too. Brain¡¯s fragile, man.¡± Cat raised a brow to look at her brother.

    ¡°Did you just have the DARE segment in health class?¡± Drugs Are Really Evil or whatever that stood for. Where a police officer came in and explained how drugs would ruin your life and handed out free shirts to bribe the students into silence during his presentation.

    ¡°Well, yeah, and I¡¯m taking psychology this year.¡±

    ¡°Oh that¡¯s cool.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, it counts as an elective. But we were talking about how certain events literally change a person. From like, strokes to trauma.¡± There was that word again...trauma. ¡°Sometimes it doesn¡¯t even have to be physical!¡±

    ¡°You sound kind of excited about it.¡±

    ¡°Yeah! I think maybe...maybe when I go to college, that¡¯ll be my major.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s really great.¡± And it was. It made her smile, seeing him so excited about something. The last thing he got this worked up about was an upgrade to whatever gaming console he was into last winter. Some sort of xBox upgrade.

    ¡°So, um...was it your fall?¡± he pried. ¡°¡¯Cause you seemed fine at Thanksgiving and stuff.¡± Cat grimaced. If he was going to be a psych major, he¡¯d be a natural. But he was also her brother. He literally knew her his whole life. He spent the whole year, when he was six, trying to copy everything she ever did.

    She shrugged. ¡°I had a close call,¡± she said. ¡°And it¡¯s just rattled me.¡±

    Gabe sat up. ¡°Signs of PTSD can range from--¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not PTSD, I wasn¡¯t in Vietnam.¡± When she dismissed him, he stared at her.

    ¡°You can get PTSD from anything scary. It¡¯s like--I bet you haven¡¯t gone back to where you fell, right?¡± Her eyes shot up to meet his. ¡°Your brain¡¯s protecting you. Bad Thing happened there, so don¡¯t go back, and Bad Thing won¡¯t happen again. PTSD is just the brain going at it too hard.¡±

    She hesitated for a moment, squinting. ¡°That¡¯s really stupid, though.¡± Not going somewhere wouldn¡¯t protect anyone from random accidents. And panic didn¡¯t solve anything.

    ¡°I think it¡¯s something like...we learn fear easy, but we unlearn it hard or something. I dunno, Mom has some quote she shared on Facebook. I brought it up in class and it derailed the whole hour. We were supposed to talk about something else, but people really wanted to learn about anxiety and panic.¡± Probably because of how absolutely terrifying the world was.

    ¡°Dinner in five!¡± called their mother from the other room. Gabe decided this was the perfect time to start a conversation at yelling level.

    ¡°Hey, MA!¡± Cat flinched and covered her ears.

    "What?¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s that quote you told me about on Facebook? The thing about fear?¡±

    From the den emerged their dad, Mr. Ramos, looking sleepy with his salt and pepper hair matted on one side. ¡°What are we yelling about?¡±

    On the other side of the room, their mom appeared in the doorway. ¡°That quote? The one with the picture of the¡­?¡± She clicked her tongue. ¡±C¨®mo se dice...big cat.¡± She gestured with her hands, which were covered in some sort of sauce, to make a mane around her head.

    ¡°Lion,¡± answered her husband.

    ¡°I¡¯m not lying, it had a big, orange cat--¡± As her children started to laugh at her, she sighed. ¡±Le¨®n!¡±

    Her husband lit up. ¡°Not as slow as she looks, ladies and gents!¡± Everyone ignored the slew of lewd insults ther mother shot back at him.

    Mrs. Ramos sighed and recovered from her giggles. ¡°Yes, uh, the quote was...something like¡­. ¡®It¡¯s easy to learn to be afraid, but hard and brave to face it anyway.¡¯ Something like that. Anyway, wash your hands for dinner, fix your hair while you still have it, you know the drill.¡±

    Mr. Ramos¡¯ hands clapped over his head. ¡°While I still have it? I¡¯m not going bald!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s because I put Rogaine in your shampoo, mi bistardo calvo.¡±

 Chapter 36

    The valley Cat grew up in had much milder temperatures than where she was headed now. Some frost and fog in the morning was normal, but in general, if the day was cold, the night would be maybe twenty degrees colder. Bay Area University was considered to be in a desert, and while it wasn¡¯t as dry as Cat was told deserts were, it was certainly just as extreme. Cat boarded a bus in Culosa late at night, wrapped in a sweater, with the Christmas presents she got this year (mostly sweaters and socks, and a new pair of boots) packed tightly in her duffle bag.

    But as the bus rode on, traveling down the scenic highways, it only got colder. Cat had to put on another jacket during the ride. Daybreak came with a surprising amount of heat. Off came the sweaters, and on boarded people that sweat twice as much as Cat thought humans were supposed to.

    In the late afternoon, Cat finally arrived at her regular stop outside of Bay Area University. Her bag was much lighter than in September, her hair longer. She walked with more confidence to her dorm building, though the ghost of anxiety still lingered in the back of her mind. She didn¡¯t know who she would run into first, or if she was ready to face anyone yet.

    She should have text everyone more during the break. But aside from the ¡°happy holidays¡± and ¡°you too¡± texts, she didn¡¯t reply that much. It wasn¡¯t that she didn¡¯t miss them...but her schedule was quite packed between taking naps and staring at the TV screen and not actually watching anything. Sending a text and engaging in actual conversation took too much energy. And after the first couple weeks of being MIA and just not replying to the group chat, the guilt made her phone too heavy to pick up anyway.

    Now, added to the anxiety of seeing Nate¡¯s disgusting face after everything, she had to worry about her friends. Did they hate her for this? Or did they understand because Peter sucked at keeping secrets and he told them even though she asked him not to?

    Cat¡¯s feet dragged the entire way to the second floor of Casa del Sol. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end; she didn¡¯t find out when everyone else was returning, and she put it off as much as possible. Her dad¡¯s Christmas bonus made it so that she felt comfortable enough to return to school a week later than she originally intended, so she had an additional week off from work. Tomorrow she got her schedule. The day after, classes began.

    Familiar voices in the distance made Cat slow down even further. Hannah¡¯s--Cam¡¯s. Her dorm room door was open, and they must have all been hanging out inside. She didn¡¯t intend to eavesdrop originally, but¡­.

    ¡°...heard from her, like, at all. At first I thought she was mad at me, but like, if she didn¡¯t talk to any of you¡­.¡±

    ¡°I just figured she was busy.¡± Cam, always expecting the least out of everyone.

    ¡°I was out of the country for two weeks, so I just kind of thought everyone was doing that,¡± Kelsey said. ¡°But now that I think about it, I don¡¯t know...I think something bad happened.¡± Cat now stopped approaching her door all together, hesitating about a hundred feet away.

    ¡°What do you mean? Like someone died?¡± Hannah asked.

    ¡°No. You know she was really weird at the end of last semester. Like after all that work we did to chill, she just kind of...put the stick back up her ass.¡± Well that was rude.

    ¡°She said she was stressed. We all were.¡± At least Cam was on her side, she thought bitterly. Where was Kelsey getting all of this anti-Cat attitude from?

    ¡°We know her stress. This was different.¡± Kelsey¡¯s hesitance built a tension Cat felt all the way to the hallway. Should she walk in now? Or no¡­? ¡°Peter, you¡¯re quiet. There were at least two opportunities for you to insult Cat there that you didn¡¯t take. Do you know something we don¡¯t?¡± Cat took several steps forward, but hesitated again. She wanted to know what he would say. But Peter wasn¡¯t replying. Cat took some more steps toward the door, hesitating around the corner.

    ¡°I have nothing productive to add,¡± he said eventually. Cat took this as her moment to push the door open.

    ¡°That¡¯s nothing new,¡± she said as she presented herself to everyone. ¡°Never stopped you before, though.¡± The boys sat on her bed, the girls on Hannah, and all stared at her as if she just woke up from the dead. For a moment, everyone just sat there. Cat¡¯s stomach twisted into a knot. ¡°Uh...hi?¡±

    ¡°Cat!¡± Hannah finally exploded, jumping off her bed to rush her.

    ¡°Oh, wait--¡± Cat held out her hands, her duffle bag dropping to the floor with a hefty thud, but Hannah wrapped her arms around her anyway. ¡°Sorry, I stink--bus ride--!¡±

    ¡°We haven¡¯t heard from you!¡± her roommate cried, squeezing harder. ¡°It¡¯s been a literal month since you¡¯ve talked to any of us!¡± Quick, something clever¡­. A month, what else cycled in months?

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she started, racking her brain for something acceptable. ¡°Phone bill...you know, holidays are tough.¡± She didn¡¯t technically lie, but it shut up her friends immediately. Just throwing out some random words that happened to paint a picture, no matter how untrue it was--that was fine, right? And it was easier than saying she¡¯d been too down to text them. Then she¡¯d have to--

    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s okay,¡± Kelsey said, smiling as she approached. ¡°I was gone a good chunk of the break, too. We hardly talked to anyone.¡± She gave a pointed look to the guys, who still sat there awkwardly. Peter chewed on his lower lip, looking guilty. Why? He did exactly what she asked--he didn¡¯t say anything. He shouldn¡¯t have felt bad.

    ¡°I thought you worked last week,¡± Hannah said as she finally pulled away.

    ¡°Nope...next week, though. I get my schedule tomorrow.¡±

    "Oh, I totally miss-understood.¡± Hannah shook her head. ¡°I thought you said you were coming back a week early for work.¡±

    ¡°Kelsey just got here, too,¡± Cameron said. The regular dynamic seemed to return with just a few minutes of shallow talk. Cat was able to excuse herself to shower quickly before they all went to dinner together. Although Peter seemed to glance her way more often than he used to; or maybe she was hyper-aware of it, now. Everyone else seemed normal.

    Cameron spent most of the time filling everyone in on his Christmas exploits, mostly in gruesome sexual detail. He kept comparing everyone to Brad, though, from the party before finals.

    ¡°I mean she was fine. She was better than Brad at it. But after everything, we just kind of--like, you know? Ghosted. No chemistry.¡± Kelsey and Hannah rolled their eyes for the millionth time. ¡°But anyway, now school--I¡¯m psyched for water polo. Finally get to do something productive.¡±

    ¡°Not like your education is important,¡± Peter mumbled. Cam shot him a weird look, but didn¡¯t touch upon it and continued his excited ranting about the coming semester.

    Cat somehow forgot that Nate was on the water polo team. Peter and Cam would see him every day. Nate knew she hung out with them--would he try to hang out with them, follow them after practice? Peter would stop him, but what if it was just Cam? What if he lied to Cam and said things were fine?

    Her ears rang, high-pitched and loud. She could hardly hear what anyone said over it; the food court was so warm, now. She must have been like that for some time, though, until Hannah nudged her.

    ¡°You okay?¡± Cat¡¯s eyes snapped up to the table. Everyone stared at her, her half-eaten teriyaki bowl in front of her, while the rest of the table had finished their food.

    ¡°What?¡± She blinked. ¡°Sorry--I zoned out.¡± Though it really felt like she went for a run. ¡°Really tired from the bus ride¡­.¡± This excuse animated the table back to their regular shenanigans, at least. While Cat picked at her food and everyone caught up, they kept making jokes about ¡°waking up¡± Cat to listen to what everyone said. No one seemed to notice that Peter grew silent, too.

    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    <hr>

    The nerves Cat thought she should feel for Week One of classes didn¡¯t show. It was a little weird, to sit in class, to have the professor go over the syllabus and to not once think she was in over her head. Though last semester was her first time. Maybe she was just used to it now.

    Unfortunately, with how every other feeling felt just as dull so far, a small part of her worried. It was like after she drank that beer at the party and went numb, nothing fully returned.

    Cat opted to ignore it.

    Maybe it was also because the coursework seemed lighter. None of her classes recorded attendance this semester, which seemed weird. Her pre-calc professor openly admitted, ¡°If you read the book and understand the material, you don¡¯t need to come to class. I only grade for the two midterms and the final.¡± No homework. No projects.

    Ceramics was completely project-based. No required class time, just a list of open lectures to attend if she felt she needed to. She was assigned a little cubby to put her finished projects for grading, and another for her materials, which kind of mostly looked like second-hand kitchen utensils.

    The English class was just a series of eight, equally-weighted essays based upon eight works written from several different cultures. No class attendance required--though encouraged for analysis and essay editing workshops.

    Communications was only once a week, but three hours long on Monday nights. Easy, peasy. The class was also about half the size of the first one; and best of all, no sign of Peter in any of her courses.

    Cat¡¯s work schedule reflected the ease of her classes. Fridays and Saturdays were now completely free for her; for the first time since she was fifteen, Cat had actual weekends. And, best of all, she on longer opened for Jittery Joe¡¯s. Though she traded opening for closing on Monday nights, and short shifts through Thursday.

    Maybe the world was giving her a break. Maybe it sensed that she just needed a bit more time to lay in bed and stare at the ceiling, and it finally granted her this one wish.

    Hannah tried her best to intercede. Even entering the second week, she seemed too excited to be reunited.

    ¡°Cat,¡± she called as she bounced on her bed while they got ready to go to sleep, ¡°you¡¯re single, I¡¯m single. You know what we should do?¡± Go to the Valentine¡¯s Day party at the frat house down the street together, Cat assumed, but didn¡¯t respond. ¡°We should be each other¡¯s date to that Valentine¡¯s Day party in a couple days.¡± Cat looked up from The Epic of Gilgamesh, shrugging.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she said, even though she¡¯d already made up her mind. ¡°I¡¯m kind of partied out from the holidays. Maybe Kelsey¡¯s up for it.¡±

    ¡°How are you partied out?¡± Hannah asked. She bunched her hair at the back of her head with a band in between her teeth to throw it all up in a bun. ¡°Drink too much?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Cat lied. She hadn¡¯t had a sip of alcohol since...but Hannah didn¡¯t need to know that. She¡¯d ask questions, get concerned, make a big deal out of it.

    ¡°Awww, damn. Okay, well maybe next time you¡¯ll be up for it. Or we can just have a girl¡¯s day.¡± That sounded heavenly. Cat nodded to her, and returned to her book. But Hannah seemed to want to keep talking about it.

    ¡°Maybe an outing with all of us, actually. Cam¡¯s been super weird.¡± That was actually enough to get Cat to mark her page and look back at her roommate.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± she asked, raising a brow. Cam seemed normal during dinners and lunches. Everything seemed normal.

    ¡°He¡¯s like...mad at Peter or something. Not mad. But super bitchy. It¡¯s like you and him traded roles or something.¡±

    ¡°Glazing over that you just called me bitchy,¡± Cat muttered. ¡°I haven¡¯t noticed anything.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s just the past couple days. You were working.¡± Hannah looked away, humming to herself. ¡°I¡¯m gunna try and figure it out. Let me know if you hear about anything. Kelsey hasn¡¯t so far.¡± Hannah and her never-ending detective work. Cat shrugged. Who was she to try and pry into someone else¡¯s secrets?

    <hr>

    Cat never intended to ask Cam about his fight with Peter. She fully thought it would blow over. Roommates got annoyed with each other sometimes, it happened. She and Hannah were a little more compatible than the regular roommates, but even they sometimes got annoyed with each other. Cat just told herself Cam was annoyed with Peter for once, because even though Cam was patient and kind, Peter was still a lot to handle.

    Monday mornings were traded from opening Jittery Joe¡¯s to doing laundry. The laundry room on the first floor of the building was relatively empty, thankfully. There were only seven washers and dryers for the whole building to share, so it was important to set a schedule early, find a time no one else was using it.

    Cat thought she¡¯d found her niche, until her usual reading was interrupted by none other than Cam coming through the door with proof he¡¯d literally never considered doing laundry this whole year until this moment. Cat raised her brows at him.

    ¡°Hey, Cat!¡± he called grimacing as he struggled to get his hamper through the door. ¡°Are three open?¡± She nodded, a little horrified, and gestured to the six empty machines he could use. ¡°Awesome.¡± She tried to go back to reading, but it was just too fascinating to watch Cameron shove as much fabric onto one machine at a time; he noticed her staring after he flicked them on, and shrugged.

    ¡°What? I have never sorted colors in my life, and never had any issues.¡± He thought she was staring at him like a science experiment because he didn¡¯t sort out his red undies from his white shirts? Cat shook her head.

    ¡°Everyone has a method,¡± she muttered to herself.

    ¡°Actually,¡± Cam blurted, ¡°I was hoping to talk to you.¡± Cat raised a brow. Advice? How to deal with Peter¡¯s Holier than Thou attitude? How not to murder him? The trick was to plan it so elaborately that it would be too complex to actually go through with it.

    ¡°What do you want to talk about?¡± Cat asked instead, and scooted over on the bench to let him sit. The machines were really loud, but so was Cam, so it wasn¡¯t hard to talk to him here.

    ¡°We¡¯re, like, good friends, right?¡± He didn¡¯t look at her when he sat down, fast and a little clumsy. Cat frowned and nodded. ¡°Like you know that you could tell me anything and I¡¯d never judge you.¡± When Cam finally faced her, Cat scrunched her brows together.

    ¡°Yes, and you can do the same with me. I mean--¡± She offered a laugh, hoping to lighten the mood. ¡°I¡¯ll judge you, but--¡±

    ¡°Are you hiding something from us? Hannah, Kelsey, me?¡± His tone made her stomach drop. ¡°About the party last year.¡± It was almost accusatory, like he knew the answer was ¡°yes¡± and he was daring her to lie. Something cold filled her chest; Cat stared at her hands, holding her book so tightly that her knuckles turned white. She didn¡¯t want to tell him. But at the same time, she wondered--how did he find out?

    She settled at nodding.

    ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t you tell me?¡± What could she say? Hey, Cam, nice to see you. Oh, by the way, I almost got date raped. What, was that a conversation to bring up over dinner, or did he expect her to just call him right after? Cat shook her head, still avoiding his face.

    ¡°How did you find out?¡± Was Peter a big-mouthed liar after all?

    ¡°Dude, water polo practice has been really weird,¡± Cameron said through a sigh. That got her attention. She made a face and looked at him, half wondering where that sudden announcement came from, half dreading that all of this came out publicly, in front of the whole team.

    ¡°Huh? Why?¡±

    ¡°Because of Nate and Peter!¡± Cam looked at her like she was crazy. ¡°I mean, you can¡¯t think that he¡¯d be okay with all of it, right?¡± Did he do something? Did Peter say something to everyone about Nate? Cat blinked at him, squinting. ¡°You know I don¡¯t judge, but like--there may have been a better way to go about it.¡± While relief washed over her shoulders, her stomach turned to stone. Cam wasn¡¯t talking about the same thing she was.

    Cat let out a slow breath, then looked up at him, suspicious. ¡°How about you tell me what you think happened, and I fill you in on any missing details?¡± If Cam actually knew what happened, she doubted he would be mad at Peter. Cameron raised a brow at her.

    ¡°Um...okay. So, like, you went to that party as Nate¡¯s date, blah, blah, blah, you guys were kind of a thing, and then you snubbed him to go have a threesome with Georgia and Peter and ghosted him.¡± Cat¡¯s eyes went wide. For a moment, a faint fire in her stomach sparked, but dulled just as quickly.

    "E-excuse me?¡± Cat stuttered.. ¡°I did what now?¡± Was that how Peter was keeping it all a secret, by spreading around some stupid rumor that she slept with him?

    ¡°I...am gathering from your reaction that maybe that didn¡¯t happen just like that.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± she spat.

    ¡°You...didn¡¯t go as Nate¡¯s date?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± The embers of her initial reaction ignited the more Cam pressed.

    ¡°You weren¡¯t together?¡±

    "No.¡±

    ¡°...and you didn¡¯t have a threesome?¡± What was with Cam and threesomes? Cat rose to her feet, her fists shaking. Her book slipped out of her lap; she mentally reminded herself to pick it up when she was done committing mortal sins.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t sleep with Peter or Georgia or--fucking--Cam, you were the last person I was with!¡± She wasn¡¯t sure when she felt the need to start shouting, but every cell in her body was on fire. Those elaborate murder plans that she over-complicated to prevent herself from being impulsive flew to the forefront of her mind. Everything blurred from her rage, the heat in her chest. The room sizzled like a hot, summer day in the distance. Cameron leaned back, suddenly defensive.

    ¡°Okay! Okay, fine, you didn¡¯t sleep with anyone, and Nate just thinks you did. What¡¯s the big deal?¡± The big deal? The big deal was that Peter was supposed to be quiet about everything, not go twisting the story so he looked like some sort of womanizer that went out and stole dates and had threesomes!

    Cat exploded, her face beet red. ¡°Because Nate tried to rape me, Cameron!¡± she screamed, ignoring his gasp. ¡°He drugged me! And Peter and Georgia found me before he could get to me and took me home! That¡¯s it!" Everything was just too much--the shock, the anger, the shame--she knew her eyes were red, that she was going to start crying any minute. Cam couldn¡¯t keep up with her; he sat there, shocked, and looked like he was about to stand up and hug her, his arms ready to wrap around her to hold her together, stop her from bursting into a million angry pieces. But Cat already headed to the door, throwing it open.

    ¡°Cat, what are you doing?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going to fucking kill him!¡±

    ¡°Wait, who are you killing?¡± But his words muffled as the door slammed behind her.

 Chapter 37

    She hadn¡¯t had this much energy since...well, before everything happened. Her legs moved on their own accord; she went straight up to the elevator, but the doors shut right in front of her, and the people inside just stared at her rather than pressing the ¡°open doors¡± button like absolute assholes. Rather than waiting, she found herself taking the stairs, and she sped up them with impressive endurance, a trait which must have been hibernating last semester when she took her running class. At least rushing this fast didn¡¯t make her sweat. She already looked a mess with her hair in a half-done braid and sweats. She didn¡¯t exactly plan to run into anyone while doing laundry at eight in the morning¡­.

    Cat¡¯s hands shook when she approached Peter¡¯s door. She tried to breathe deeply, to keep her head despite the thickness in her throat that made it all so difficult. Her face was hot to the touch, vision blurry. Her fist slammed against the door three times before her lip started to quiver. No, she said to herself, stay angry. But the silence from the other side of the door was almost too much. Was he not in?

    She¡¯d finally felt something, like she woke up from a long nap, and he wasn¡¯t answering? Absolutely unacceptable.

    ¡°Peter,¡± she called into the crack of the door, knocking again. ¡°I know you¡¯re in there!¡± She wanted her voice to be loud, confident, but it tapered off so weakly.

    Finally, the knob began to twist, and the door cracked open. She held her breath; he opened the door so slowly, groggy; his hair completely sloppy and unkempt, his brilliant, green eyes half-hidden behind his eyelids. At least he looked just as disheveled as she did. He seemed to care more than she did, tugging at his pajama shirt and pulling up his boxer briefs. If she hadn¡¯t been so focused on keeping the kindling in her stomach aflame, she would have let him change first.

    But Cat shoved at the door to push it open more, using the only bit of angry energy she had left to stride into his dimly-lit room. Peter¡¯s arm that held the door hardly resisted her shove, and just fell to his side. She didn¡¯t even fully look at him until she was in the middle of his room. Through the shadows of the blinds, she watched him, quivering, as he shut the door. Just that one movement seemed to wake him out of his sleep fully, and as he raised a hand to rub at his eyes.

    She wanted to start yelling, to scold him for not stopping the rumors, but her words faded away. Peter¡¯s soft face slowly came into her focus; his brows furrowed, and despite how she stood so hostile and barged into his room, genuine concern filled his eyes. It made her knees tremble. She may have felt awake now, but the rest¡­.

    ¡°Did something happen?¡± Peter asked after she failed to announce the reason for her visit. His words tugged at her, disintegrated the heat in her stomach. Now it rose to her eyes, and she blinked over and over again to try and maintain her focus. But when she took in a breath, despite her best effort, a hot tear ran down her cheek.

    ¡°I--I just had to tell Cam--¡± The sob came out faster than she thought it would. Something inside her chest unraveled, and now even though she covered her face to try and hold everything back, she wasn¡¯t strong enough. ¡°Oh, God¡­.¡± Her hip fell into the soft edge of his mattress, begging to take some weight off of her shaking legs. Peter was at her side in an instant, but all he did was act as a whisk, mixing every feeling that rushed to her chest at once.

    Anger. Anger that she had to be here, dealing with this, that Nate was such a shitty person. That now any reputation she tried to build was completely dependent on a rumor spread by stupid boys. Despair from being so lonely, from keeping this bottled up so tightly that she hardly felt anything anymore. Fear that everything was coming to light, that people would look at her differently, that they would whisper about how weak she was. The warmth from Peter¡¯s hand on her shoulder stirred everything slowly into a messy blend that tugged at her heart. Cat tried to wipe away the tears that now free-flowed, tried to sniffle enough to let herself breathe out of her nose, but every effort was erased by a new, pulsating sob.

    Eventually, her legs buckled; she slid down the side of Peter¡¯s bed and onto the floor to hold her knees, and though she couldn¡¯t open her eyes for longer than a second at a time, she was aware that Peter knelt beside her, his hand now rubbing up and down her back slowly. He wasn¡¯t counting, but he moved his hand against her spine so methodically and slowly; each vertebrae he ran his fingers down marked a second, and she understood immediately that she was hyperventilating. Subconsciously, her breaths began to match his silent advice.

    Cat sucked in as much air as she could, struggling to compose herself. This was Peter¡¯s room, for Christ¡¯s sake! What was she doing? She came here to scold him for spreading rumors, not...to just utterly crumble into a pathetic puddle to the point that he had to remind her how to breathe properly. She didn¡¯t come here for him to comfort her, but¡­.

    ¡°Why--why is this happening?¡± she finally managed to utter. Through her swollen eyes, she finally managed to look over to Peter, who just watched her, passively keeping time. His hands were always so warm, his expression so soft and patient. It slowed the world for just a bit, enough to let her catch up.

    Despite herself, the few minutes of sobbing and asking stupid questions at him began to solidify her feeling on the ground. She could breathe a normal pace; and though she kept wiping snot on her sleeve and couldn¡¯t breathe out of her nose, her heart slowed and offered her the tiniest of lucid moments.

    Finally, she wiped at her eyes, the salt accumulating on the corners of her eyes.

    Cat braced herself, then faced Peter to ask, ¡°Why did Cam say that we¡­?¡± She couldn¡¯t bring herself to say it. But based upon Peter¡¯s expression, she didn¡¯t have to finish the thought. He and Cam had apparently been fighting about it for a few days, now. His dimples punctuated his frown. And although he wasn¡¯t keeping time for her breathing anymore, he still held his hand there, heavy and hesitant.

    ¡°Nate started saying that¡­.¡± She waited for him to finish, but it seemed like the words were too foreign for him, too.

    ¡°And you didn¡¯t deny it?¡± Her hand twitched into a fist for just a moment, but Peter looked away.

    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    ¡°I was going to, but¡­.¡± His gentle fingers slowly peeled away from her back, eventually reached up to rest on the side of his bed. Her emotions must have been like oil and water; the minute he stopped whisking them together, she could feel it all separate, tear her apart like she was some unstable concoction. She opted not to focus on that, and instead steeled herself to try and keep it all behind a wall, now.

    ¡°If Cam doesn¡¯t believe you, no one else will, will they?¡± she asked quietly. Peter shrugged.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have--I didn¡¯t tell Cam anything, and he took that to mean I was guilty of--of--stealing you or something--and with you being so distant lately, he just kind of ran with it and took Nate¡¯s side.¡± It was such a shock to even think of being with Peter, of him saying it like that out loud, stealing her. She couldn¡¯t breathe when he spoke; it just made the hairs on her arms stand on end. How could Cam even think that?

    For a brief moment while she tried to see things from Cameron¡¯s perspective, she saw herself drunkenly sitting on Peter¡¯s lap to kiss him in the hot tub at Hannah¡¯s party; she saw herself giving him the first tamale that her mom sent, holding his hand under the table after keeping his drunken secrets, and how she¡¯d now gone to this very room intending to see Peter as many times as she had Cam--and now, running in, crying¡­. She snapped her thoughts back. She wasn¡¯t going to justify Cameron¡¯s part in spreading rumors. He could have just asked her!

    Cat brushed some of her loose hair out of her face. ¡°And now the whole team, and God knows who else, is just accepting what Nate says as some stupid fact?¡± Peter didn¡¯t answer her. Cat grit her teeth; the frustration served as an adequate replacement for Peter¡¯s metronome like hand. ¡°So that¡¯s it, then?¡± He pursed his lips. ¡°I¡¯m either a two-timing whore or some alcoholic slut that went and got herself drugged?¡±

    Peter recoiled, shocked at her words for whatever reason, shaking his head. ¡°No one¡¯s saying that.¡±

    ¡°Those are my options,¡± she spat. She could hear her dad in her ear, now: My stupid daughter went and made herself a statistic!

    ¡°You do realize you¡¯re a victim, right? Nothing you said or did could have changed anything.¡± At that moment, she didn¡¯t know if that was better or not. His option made her less guilty, but a hell of a lot more terrified.

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you just say nothing happened?¡± she demanded instead. He sighed.

    ¡°I tried--but--look, if I said I was trying to get you out of there, it looks bad. People ask why. If I say nothing happened--people saw you. You couldn¡¯t exactly walk. You were holding onto on me and Georgia, and it either looks one way, or¡­.¡± Cat struggled to remember that night. But other than vomiting in the toilet and having a panic attack in the middle of the street, everything else was distant and blurry.

    She shut her eyes, letting one last tear fall down her cheek. If she couldn¡¯t walk, it must have looked like she was hanging on him in either a druggy way or a flirty way--and the implications were worse for the former, without context. Cat curled into herself a little, her arm pulling at her leg as she set her forehead against her knee. Peter remained silent, but she could hear the gears ticking in his mind. In about three seconds, he was going to tell her¡­.

    ¡°You can talk to someone--¡±

    ¡°Shut up,¡± she muttered quietly.

    ¡°Like Georgia said, you¡¯re not the only one to go through this--¡±

    ¡°I said shut up!¡± She couldn¡¯t remember what Georgia said. But what would that do to comfort her, by saying others had gone through this? The fear, the vulnerability, not to mention the awful physical side effects? Why was this something that more than one person ever had to go through?

    ¡°If you even just told the captain, Thomas--¡± She interrupted him with a scoff.

    ¡°And what?¡± She snapped her gaze to him. Peter bit his lip, caught in his unfinished thought. ¡°And just go up to him without evidence and accuse Nate of¡­.¡± Her tongue tasted like rust. ¡°And then he goes to Nate, laughs about it, and then what? He¡¯s telling everyone I was with him!¡±

    ¡°You can report Nate--¡±

    ¡°With what evidence?¡±

    ¡°Georgia and I will--¡±

    ¡°Are you kidding me?¡± Cat interrupted, letting her legs fall. ¡°The two people I supposedly slept with while snubbing Nate? Yeah, sure, that will work!¡± Ugh, she sounded hysterical. Why did she bother coming here? She wanted to know why he let these rumors spread, why he didn¡¯t snuff them out at the start. Well, she could have figured this out on her own.

    Cat shoved herself off of the ground, despite her aching knees, the screaming of her head. She felt so heavy. Peter still sat there, staring at the ground, seemingly guilty.

    ¡°Whatever,¡± she said quietly. ¡°Fine. Tell everyone we slept together so you¡¯re not the rapist. I don¡¯t care.¡± But she did care. She cared a lot. Cam, Nate, Peter--how many members were even on a water polo team? Did it look like she was just making her rounds? She has a type, she remembered Nate saying about Kelsey. At the time, she didn¡¯t even realize what he meant by that. She should have said something on her behalf. Now everyone was saying the same thing about her.

    Cat half-expected some sort of clever quip from Peter, but when she looked back down to him, he just continued staring at the floor. She shook her head and walked to the door, but the energy of the room shifted. She could hear Peter twist to face her, and quietly, as her hand touched the knob, he said her name so softly, ¡°Cat¡­.¡±

    Her heart stopped right in her chest, took her breath with it. It was as if even if she didn¡¯t hear him, her body would have reacted to his words. She found herself turning to look at him even though she didn¡¯t plan to. Peter looked up at her, gentle, tender. ¡°Please. Even if you don¡¯t report him, you can still talk to someone about it.¡±

    Her throat was so thick. She shook her head. ¡°What difference would it make?¡± Before he could answer, she continued, ¡°He¡¯s still here. He¡¯s still--¡± Her words were unsteady in her mouth, no matter how hard she clenched her teeth. ¡°He still a-almost--¡±

    Peter sighed. ¡°It¡¯s not about him.¡± Cat didn¡¯t have a response. She ached all over, her brain screamed at her for coming here in the first place, for breaking down on Peter¡¯s carpet, humiliating herself further. Had she any energy to suppress her thoughts, she wouldn¡¯t have even realized she felt better after being there.

    But now she had confusing feelings like that swimming around in her brain, too.

    <hr>

    Cat left her clothes in the washing machine for two hours longer than she should have. She couldn¡¯t return to the laundry room. Not after what she said to Cam¡­. Instead, Cat holed herself in the bathroom until she knew Hannah had class, and spent the rest of the remaining hour curled in a ball on her bed. Her alarm on her phone went off, signifying she had class in thirty minutes and to prepare for it, but she dismissed it. No way could she show up like this.

    She figured it was safe at about ten, when Hannah was supposed to have been in class for an hour, when Cam¡¯s laundry should have been done. She was able to retrieve her clothes and put everything away while ignoring all text alerts.

    By the time all her shirts were folded and her dresses hung, Cat had been looking to her bed longingly. The sheets were pulled up as a way to keep her from crawling back into it. The tiny barrier failed. Her chest ached, her head was still stuffed, and she was in no different place than two hours ago.

    Except physically, of course. Now she crawled into bed rather than crying next to Peter¡¯s.

    And now that she thought about it, lying in bed, alone, didn¡¯t feel quite as nice as when he kept a tempo for her breath with his hand running along her spine, gentle and consistent. With her window and door locked, her phone on silent, she was safe here. No one could pry at her with words of pity or tell her to do anything, or echo vicious rumors to shame her for anything she got herself into. No one could hear her thoughts, could tell that the only way she was able to soothe herself to sleep was by imagining Peter¡¯s soft voice counting in her ear.

 Chapter 38

    Cat¡¯s mind gave her a break. After she let herself fall asleep to the idea of Peter¡¯s comfort, she didn¡¯t have any nightmares. No faces of anyone she didn¡¯t want to ever see again, no confusing mazes or dreams where Peter appeared and claimed to know her thoughts. There weren¡¯t any nightmares of showing up late to class or presenting in front of everyone naked, or being unaware of a test, or of Peter reading her horrible grades out loud to her friends and family. Or weird dreams of Peter being weirdly soft and affectionate with wandering hands that Dream Cat accepted too readily.

    If she had any of those dreams, anyway, she didn¡¯t remember them for once.

    For the first time since that awful party, she slept solidly. Her thoughts floated gently, rather than swirling like fits of angry wasps. She could breathe again. Her eyes opened on their own accord, rather than to an alarm or the sound of someone calling her.

    Cat sighed, blinking into the empty dorm room. Her eyes still felt heavy, and her limbs refused to move, but her mind¡­. It was as if she hadn¡¯t truly slept in years. She sat there, silent, for a few moments, letting the peace and quiet drape over her.

    Distant jingling approached her door, until finally Hannah¡¯s face poked through.

    ¡°Cat?¡± she called quietly. She shimmied through the door when she saw her roommate was awake, and shut it quietly. Hannah swung her bag for it to plop on her bed, and approached Cat. ¡°Cam said to talk to you. He didn¡¯t tell me why, but he seemed really freaked out.¡±

    Cat sighed and glanced to her nightstand, where here phone displayed the time. She had work soon. Or maybe not. Without answering her roommate, she grabbed for it to text her boss that she got sick. She had twelve texts and three missed calls from Cam. A few of the texts were from Kelsey and Hannah, asking if she was okay. Cam and his stupid, big mouth. Her and her stupid, big mouth. But she couldn¡¯t handle him spreading lies like that, not when the truth was so much more sinister.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± Hannah asked. Cat pursed her lips. It wasn¡¯t fair that she told Cam and not Hannah and Kelsey. Though she never actually intended to tell Cam¡­.

    ¡°You hear any of the rumors about me and the water polo team?¡± she settled with asking. Hannah¡¯s expression said it all. The distasteful rumors that Cam spread were making their rounds, probably even getting worse and worse by the minute. That¡¯s just how things went.

    ¡°I¡¯ve heard people say things,¡± she admitted finally. ¡°Mean things.¡± Mean? Cat pulled her comforter tighter around herself. ¡°Is that what¡¯s been going on? Or--what has been going on? Cam said--well, he just said that he was wrong. But I don¡¯t know what about. He sounded scared for you¡­.¡± Hannah knelt beside Cat¡¯s bed, adjusting herself so that she could be seen through Cat¡¯s comforter tunnel.

    Cat let out a short sigh. What could she say? If she said the truth, would they leave her alone¡­? But now that Cam knew, too, there was no keeping it hidden.

    ¡°That party I went to before finals last year,¡± she started quietly, ¡°um¡­.¡± Her heart hammered so hard in her chest. ¡°If I tell you, you guys have to promise not to talk about it, okay? I don¡¯t want to talk about it. I don¡¯t want to do anything. I just want to move on.¡± Her roommate¡¯s face twisted into a sort of disgusted surprise; she could predict what Cat was going to say, but she was assuming the worst. Cat waited for her reply.

    ¡°Cat...if something...happened,¡± Hannah started, but she was interrupted.

    ¡°I mean it, Hannah.¡± Her tone was a bit more stern than she wanted it to come out, but hopefully it would work. ¡°I didn¡¯t want anyone to know. I still don¡¯t. I didn¡¯t even mean to tell Cam.¡± Hannah seemed taken aback, but slowly settled into the floor, shifting her weight from one side to another.

    ¡°Okay,¡± Hannah said eventually. She obviously wasn¡¯t pleased, but if this is what got them off her back¡­. Cat took a full minute to prepare herself, searching the room for support, ideas of how to even say this.

    ¡°I was at the party for maybe half an hour, and, um¡­.¡± Breathing seemed difficult now. ¡°Nate, he¡­.¡± Hannah¡¯s hand flew up to cover her own mouth, her brows knitted tightly. ¡°He drugged me. But--but Peter and Georgia intervened, and they just made sure I got back safe.¡±

    Hannah still wasn¡¯t breathing. ¡°Did Nate--did he--¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Cat answered before her roommate could voice the worst case scenario. ¡°Georgia and Peter got to me first. And I guess Nate¡¯s saying, to cover his ass, that I ditched him to go sleep with¡­.¡± Cat wiped her hair out of her face, and pulled her comforter up to her chin. ¡°I guess I couldn¡¯t walk, so it looked like--but I don¡¯t--¡± She hadn¡¯t realized that her eyes had started to well up again. ¡°I don¡¯t remember anything.¡± Before her roommate could react, Cat sucked in a breath and continued, ¡°And I don¡¯t want to. I don¡¯t want to think about it, I don¡¯t want anyone to know. So don¡¯t bring it up. Ever.¡±

    Hannah¡¯s lips parted and pursed over and over again for the next minute as she digested what Cat said. Her soft gaze explored Cat, then the floor, then the room, until Hannah finally sighed and shrugged.

    ¡°I just don¡¯t think it¡¯s a good idea not to talk about it,¡± she said. Cat frowned, steeling herself.

    ¡°You can talk about it all you want with Cam, Kelsey, Peter, and Georgia. Just keep me out of it.¡± At her tone, Hannah resigned.

    ¡°Alright.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡±

    Hannah slowly rose from the floor, seemingly unable to handle much more of this.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got--hey, don¡¯t you have class or work or something?¡± When she got to her feet, Cat¡¯s roommate animated just a bit more.

    ¡°I¡¯m out sick.¡±

    ¡°Oh...okay.¡± And now that Hannah understood Cat¡¯s mood a little more, she deflated and returned to her side of the room, providing as much space as a tiny dorm like this one could.

    Things took a while to get back to normal. The first few times Cat faced any of her friends, even Peter, they looked at her like she was a glass vase about to tip over and shatter. And maybe they weren¡¯t far off about that. She was quite a bit more reactionary than normal, which was saying something, and her usual back-and-forth quips with Peter escalated to a weird level. Any time she saw him it was like the string in her chest got pulled even tauter, and that at some point it was just going to snap and she was just going to disappear into nothingness all together. He brought up too many memories, too many feelings with just the appearance of his dimples. At least she only saw him at mealtimes.

    Half the time she couldn¡¯t even keep track of what she was arguing with him about.

    ¡°I literally just said that, ten seconds ago,¡± Peter snapped back at her one afternoon. While everyone else was still gathering their preferred lunch, it left Cat and Peter some time to get in a round before their friends shut them up.

    ¡°No you didn¡¯t--!¡±

    ¡°Yes I did!¡±

    ¡°Be more memorable and maybe I¡¯ll--¡±

    Cam dropped his tray on the table loudly as he declared, ¡°Grown-ups are approaching, time to stop the playground bullying.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a playground bully,¡± Cat muttered under her breath.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    ¡°Kelsey!¡± Cam called, waving into the distance. The other two girls in their group found them with his obnoxiously loud voice and joined them momentarily. Their usual chatter started, but it wasn¡¯t until Kelsey started yelling insults at Cameron, that Cat actually start to pay attention again.

    ¡°What did I miss?¡± she asked, blinking to Hannah.

    ¡°Just wait for it,¡± Hannah said. As if on cue, Cam¡¯s grown-up response to Kelsey¡¯s reaction was to start to spell out: ¡°M-I-D-T-R-M-S!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re missing a letter there, genius,¡± Cat said, nudging him. Though had it already been four weeks since the semester began? Midterms were starting? ¡°Man, I¡¯ve got a pre-calc midterm coming up,¡± she realized. That stupid class had two.

    ¡°Pre-calc?¡± Hannah echoed, furrowing her brows. ¡°I haven¡¯t heard you even mention that since last semester. I thought you decided against it.¡± Maybe because Cat had yet to even attend a lecture.

    ¡°No, I¡¯m taking it.¡±

    ¡°Oh. When¡¯s your class?¡±

    Cat eyed the giant clock on the wall opposite their table. ¡°Uh, technically now.¡±

    ¡°Now? You¡¯re--Cat, are you telling me you¡¯ve never gone to this class?¡± Suddenly, the table was a lot quieter, and everyone stopped prodding at their food to stare at her. ¡°You don¡¯t skip class. You even went after splitting your head open against doctor¡¯s orders.¡± Cat shrugged.

    ¡°I went to the first one. He doesn¡¯t take attendance and reads straight from the book, so that¡¯s what I¡¯ve been doing. I¡¯ve just been reading it.¡±

    ¡°No homework?¡± Cam asked. ¡°Shit, wish I took that guy. Who¡¯s your professor?¡±

    Peter decided to interject: ¡°No practice problems?¡±

    Cat rolled her eyes. ¡°No, it¡¯s fine. I¡¯ve got it.¡± But Peter laughed at her--which was totally unnecessary.

    ¡°Math is a practice thing. You¡¯re screwed if you haven¡¯t done any practice problems.¡±

    ¡°I understand the concepts just fine, I¡¯m not an idiot--¡±

    ¡°Other than the fact that you are, it takes more than just reading examples to fully grasp any concept.¡± His voice was so sharp and condescending. Cat scoffed.

    ¡°Maybe if you¡¯re a simpleton and can¡¯t read! I understand everything perfectly!¡±

    Peter laughed at her again. ¡°Fine, whatever. Don¡¯t come crying to me when you fail.¡±

    "I won¡¯t fail!"

    <hr>

    At least, she wasn¡¯t supposed to. But even before she got her results, Cat knew she did. How was she supposed to answer 50 of those questions in an hour and a half? She¡¯d only gotten to number twenty before the professor asked everyone to turn in their scantrons. And while half of the questions felt like review from high school, there were some that just didn¡¯t make any sense.

    She knew, theoretically, what a limit was. She¡¯d read about it all. But for whatever reason, when she saw the words on the page next to equations and questions, everything she read just disappeared. And now she walked out of her midterm with shaking, sweaty palms. How could this happen?

    The teacher said she could just read the book and be fine with it! That¡¯s exactly what she did! And she wasn¡¯t alone. Walking out of that midterm, everyone seemed to have worried looks on their faces.

    ¡°Is it just me, or was that unnecessarily hard?¡±

    ¡°Damn, that guy¡¯s brutal. Hope he¡¯s grading on a curve.¡± And for the first time in Cat¡¯s academic life, she desperately hoped for the opposite. There was no way she was on top of that curve. She¡¯d be, if anything, the example of what not to do in this stupid class.

    She attempted to calm herself down on her walk to the Tutoring Center beside the library. One tutoring session would do it. She just missed some sort of obvious point. She just needed to see what she misunderstood, and it would all work out. Like a lightbulb, she¡¯d suddenly see the light and understand everything like normal and ace the next midterm.

    The Tutoring Center was a lot smaller than she thought it would be; chairs of all different types made up their waiting queue, and each seat was filled with twitching or reading students of all walks of life. Cat approached a small desk with a clunky computer on it, and addressed the lady with thick, clear glasses. Cat fiddled with her wallet and announced, ¡°I¡¯d, um, like to sign up to get tutoring.¡±

    ¡°What class?¡±

    ¡°Pre-calc,¡± Cat said. ¡°And what are the fees?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s twenty dollars a session, but you can have it bundled and pay for a few at a time, too.¡± The girl adjusted her glasses as she clicked about on her computer. Cat tried to be patient and occupied herself by calculating how many sessions she could afford without asking her parents for money, but her numbers were interrupted. ¡°We can have you in at noon on Monday the 22nd.¡± Cat sighed, then grabbed her phone to put it in her calendar. It wasn¡¯t as soon as she¡¯d like, but it was just before her next midterm, and that¡¯s what she needed.

    ¡°Monday--do you mean Friday the 22nd?¡± The desk lady shook her head.

    ¡°We¡¯re looking at April, dear.¡±

    "April?" Cat echoed a little too loudly. Whispered conversations from behind the staff area hesitated at her outburst. ¡°It¡¯s February!¡±

    ¡°Yes, we¡¯re a little--¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t you get me in any sooner? Any time. I¡¯m not picky.¡± Cat¡¯s knuckles turned white against her phone, but the lady shrugged.

    ¡°Sorry, that¡¯s the soonest one I¡¯ve got open.¡± Her words were not comforting. ¡°I mean, it¡¯s not a bad deal. This one¡¯s got good reviews. He¡¯s new, but only five stars so far.¡± New tutor for math, huh? She wanted to laugh. Cat pursed her lips, then looked up to the ceiling to mentally shake a fist at God. Was He serious, doing this? Why was he using Peter¡¯s words to humble her so much? Suppressing a growl, Cat lowered her gaze back to the lady at the computer and nodded.

    ¡°Alright. Can I talk to the tutor first?¡± Maybe if she talked to Peter now, he¡¯d find a way to tutor her off-hours, and she could pay him under the table¡­.

    ¡°What?¡± The lady squinted at her.

    ¡°Can I just talk to him for a minute to confirm the booking?¡±

    ¡°Oh. Um, okay. I think he¡¯s got someone coming in, though--¡±

    ¡°Just to confirm. I know him, we¡¯re friends. It¡¯s fine.¡±

    ¡°Oh. Um, okay. Let me swipe your student ID card to book it now, though.¡± By the time Cat handed over her ID, her tongue still tingled with the word ¡°friends.¡± Was that what they were, now? It wasn¡¯t him saving her life or seeing him almost every single day of the school year, it just took her needing something from him. Cat¡¯s stomach sunk to the floor. What kind of person was she?

    But the desk lady rose from her seat to go fetch Peter after handing back Cat¡¯s ID, and she sat there and stewed at the counter for a full minute before she returned.

    ¡°He¡¯ll be right out. If you¡¯ll step to the side?¡± Cat didn¡¯t even look at her as she took a few footsteps to the left. The next person needed help writing an essay, and they got into an appointment next week. Where was the justice in that?

    She absolutely hated Peter¡¯s expression when he came around the corner. He looked so unbelievably happy, teeth shining, dimples hanging his grin from cheek to cheek. The more miserable she looked, the more amused he did.

    ¡°You failed!¡± he announced cheerfully. ¡°I told you, you would!¡± The small line of people waiting in the chairs didn¡¯t seem to like his announcement, but he ignored them. ¡°I told you--¡±

    ¡°Peter, I¡¯m desperate,¡± she interrupted. ¡°You can gloat later. I just need help.¡± The tiniest bit of wonder twinkled in his eye.

    ¡°You¡¯re booked, don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ll help you.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± she corrected uneasily, ¡°I need help sooner. I can¡¯t wait that long.¡±

    ¡°How long is the wait?¡±

    "April.¡±

    ¡°Oh. I guess we are in desperate need of tutors¡­.¡± he trailed off.

    ¡°Peter!¡±

    ¡°What do you want me to do about it?¡±

    Cat lowered her voice to a near whisper. ¡°I¡¯ll pay you under the table. Please¡­. I have another midterm in three weeks.¡± Peter¡¯s eyes narrowed, but it almost seemed ingenuine.

    ¡°Are you trying to get me fired?¡± he whispered back. He didn¡¯t sound as irritated as he tried to look.

    ¡°I need at least one or two sessions before my midterm. And you¡¯ll be getting the full twenty bucks, rather than the discounted rate the school takes.¡± She only let him have a moment to consider. ¡°You¡¯re just the first person I¡¯m asking. I¡¯ll go to a different tutor--¡±

    ¡°Cat, calm down. Jesus.¡± He took a quick glance over to the desk lady before he said, ¡°I have control of my own schedule. I can just open it up and schedule you.¡± Oh. That sounded a lot simpler than she thought it would be. Cat blinked at him. ¡°I can only adjust it every couple weeks, though. So I can¡¯t help you until two weeks from now.¡± Just as she was about to say something, he continued. ¡°And I can¡¯t legally take money from you for tutoring you. It has to go through the school.¡± She rolled her eyes at him.

    ¡°It¡¯s not like I¡¯d tell anyone. You¡¯re helping me.¡± Again. He was always helping. And she was....

    ¡°I¡¯ll--I¡¯ll open my schedule. And we can meet next week--unofficially. Okay? But two conditions.¡± He held up his fingers. ¡°One, you start going to class.¡± Cat frowned, but nodded. She was planning to do that anyway. ¡°And two¡­.¡± It was his turn to whisper, now. ¡°Go to just one session of counseling.¡± She almost exploded right there, almost began screaming at him or slapping him or something, because that was the most ridiculous-- ¡°I¡¯ll shut up about it after that. Just go to the intake. That¡¯s not even a full appointment. It¡¯s a half hour. Go to that, and I¡¯ll help you for a free session and never bring it up again.¡±

    Her heart hammered so loudly in her chest, she wondered if he could hear it. Just when she thought everyone was going to be quiet about the worst night of her life, he went and brought it all up again. And now she went from staring at his eyes in the Tutoring Center to the floor of Nate¡¯s bathroom, crying, feeling betrayed and stupid and sick¡­. Cat blinked herself back into the present, but her eyes still watered like she was still there, still unable to even walk on her own. She shrunk, dropping her gaze, and took a step back to leave.

    ¡°I-I--¡± She wanted to yell at him, to demand why he dared to bring something like that up in such a public place, but the desk lady swore and started to slam at her computer; the percussive maintenance felt like a message, like she was the stupid, old computer that needed ¡°recalibrating¡± if thinking about one night reduced her to tears every time she even thought about it. Cat still looked to the desk lady, but grimaced.

    ¡°Cat?¡± Peter prompted quietly.

    She didn¡¯t look at him, but finally nodded. ¡°Fine. You have a deal.¡±

 Chapter 39

    Peter said the stupid counseling appointment would take half an hour. Well, maybe it would have, if she didn¡¯t have to fill out a ridiculously long survey on a tablet before she ever spoke to a person. Some of these questions were...alarming.

    Have you ever acted on an urge to kill or torture a small animal such as a cat or puppy? Jesus Christ, no! But the only options were ¡°yes¡± or ¡°no,¡± so there was no way to indicate her disgust at even seeing the question. Was that a common enough thing that they had to put it on a survey? God!

    As she continued down the questions, Cat found her heart sinking. These thoughts or feelings were so common that they were on a generic survey.

    Within the past two weeks, have you ever felt as if you were better off dead, or wish you had never been born?

    Questions shifted to things she never thought would apply to her.

    Within the past two weeks, have there been times where you were unable to stop yourself from crying?

    Within the past two weeks, have you ever felt difficulty catching your breath?

    Within the past two weeks, have you felt like you have been feeling or acting like a different person?

    Now she ticked off even more boxes, and sat lower and lower in her seat as she did so. Maybe she did belong here. Maybe she should have come a lot sooner. The receptionist in the beige and blue room didn¡¯t even blink when Cat returned the tablet, just murmured, ¡°Someone will be wish you shortly; please take a seat.¡±

    So Cat sat back into the blue sofa, her hands tucked under her legs as she looked around. There were pamphlets for everything. Depression, anxiety, bipolar disorder, alcohol abuse--even one about being drugged. These pamphlets littered the walls with motivational posters, one of which had a cute, sideways-looking owl on it that said, ¡°Sometimes your best isn¡¯t much, but it¡¯s enough.¡± She found herself reading it over and over again, even though she had it memorized after looking at it for a few seconds. She wanted to remember each little uncolored flower in the background, the drawn feathers on the wing that gestured to the words. It was just a poster that was hung directly across from her in this empty, cold room--but it captured her attention until the door on the other side of the room opened.

    ¡°Catherine?¡± called a smooth, feminie voice. Cat jerked at the sound, and found a woman in regular slacks and a black blouse calling for her with a soft smile. Cat scrambled off of the couch with her book bag and rushed to the woman, although there weren¡¯t any other patients interested in eight AM appointments on a Friday, and no one could stare at her or judge her.

    But the thought of this, in and of itself, was enough to make her move quickly.

    ¡°Please make yourself comfortable here. My name is Naomi and I will be conducting your intake. This is just so I can gather some information from you so we can see if any services we offer here match what you need.¡± Cat followed her into a door immediately at the beginning of the hallway and sat down in a plush armchair across from an oversized mahogany desk. The room was a little dimmer than out there, with a trickling water fountain in the shape of a few falling rocks in the corner. She supposed it would be relaxing if she wasn¡¯t so nervous.

    ¡°You mean if I need a psychiatrist?¡± Cat asked, her voice wavering. Naomi lowered herself to her chair and regarded her.

    ¡°That¡¯s up to you, actually. You may not want a psychiatrist, if you aren¡¯t interested in medication. You may just want to see a counselor for a single session, and that also works out fine. Or maybe our services won¡¯t fit with you and I can make some recommendations for other places in the area that might be able to help you.¡± Naomi was so gentle in her explanation, that it was difficult not to feel at ease even as she reached for a pen and a clipboard with some papers on it. Cat scratched her arm.

    ¡°You¡¯re already less pushy than my friends,¡± she joked, offering a wry smile. Naomi blinked at her without uncapping her pen.

    ¡°Your friends are pushy?¡±

    ¡°Well, one more than others¡­.¡± Was Peter her friend? Naomi moved quietly as she began to fill out paperwork, and Cat decided to clarify. ¡°He¡¯s been pushing me to come here since...last year.¡±

    Naomi didn¡¯t look up, but smiled politely. ¡°Sounds like a good friend, like he cares a lot for you.¡±

    ¡°N--¡± Cat couldn¡¯t even fully protest. Her heart jumped to her throat and stopped any sound from coming out further. How could she even begin to unpack that? Someone that didn¡¯t care didn¡¯t work as hard as Peter did to make sure she was okay.

    ¡°Catherine,¡± Naomi said, stealing her attention, ¡°I want to thank you for filling out that questionnaire before. I know it¡¯s long and usually quite irrelevant, but it will make this process go by quickly. Do you mind if I ask a few more specific questions?¡± What? Right, the whole reason she was here. Not because Peter wanted her to be, specifically, but¡­. Cat nodded. ¡°Great. So I see in your answers, you indicated that one or more specific events within the past six months may have been a trigger for a lot of what you are experiencing. Can you tell me more about that?¡±

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    Now her breath left her completely, and her fingers went numb, and the fountain suddenly sounded a lot louder than before. How had it seemed to escape her until this moment that she would have to recount what happened? Possibly multiple times, to multiple people?

    ¡°I--I don¡¯t want to,¡± Cat stammered instead. Her eyes felt so hot, she blinked too much. Naomi didn¡¯t react if she noticed.

    ¡°That¡¯s alright,¡± she said instead as she continued scribbling. ¡°You don¡¯t have to go through that with me. I know that sometimes explaining a situation could make us feel like we¡¯re going through it all again. You don¡¯t have to do that if you aren¡¯t in a place where that sort of thing can help you.¡± And although her words were immensely comforting, a tear still made its way down Cat¡¯s cheek. She rushed to get rid of it, but Naomi kept her gaze to her papers.

    ¡°I thought that¡¯s what this was,¡± she admitted. ¡°I thought I just...talked until I felt better. Isn¡¯t that what therapy is?¡± Now Naomi smiled and looked up.

    ¡°Is that what you would like it to be?¡± The question threw Cat off-guard.

    ¡°I guess I don¡¯t know what to expect.¡±

    ¡°This part is a little less talking-on-a-recliner and more discovering what you think might help you heal.¡± All of this was so gentle. The fountain¡¯s trickling water faded away again, and the room seemed to let her breathe just a bit more. What was she so afraid of?

    ¡°What if--what if it turns out that¡­.¡± The sound of Naomi¡¯s pen against the paper in front of her was the only reminder Cat had to keep speaking. ¡°What if there¡¯s nothing that...can fix me?¡± What if I can¡¯t be fixed? What if I¡¯m just like this now?

    ¡°You don¡¯t look broken to me.¡± Naomi didn¡¯t look up as she said this. ¡°But if you want to understand yourself better, or if you¡¯re looking for some mental balance, then I think this is something we can help you achieve through our counseling services, if that¡¯s something you¡¯re up for trying.

    ¡°Now Catherine, just a few more questions before we wrap this up and try to make a plan. Okay? Now, should you choose to see a provider here on campus, do you have a preference for gender? No? Alright. And would you like your spirituality or religion to be a factor? And how about your sexuality? Okay. Now let¡¯s go through this together, so you can check to make sure I¡¯ve got everything down correctly, and we can go from there.¡± Well, maybe this wasn¡¯t so bad. She didn¡¯t even have to explain what brought her here, really. That wasn¡¯t so bad. It left her heart feeling tender, but not ripped open for a stranger to see.

    Naomi regarded her paperwork and started by reciting Cat¡¯s birth information, her student number, and other administrative things.

    ¡°Good so far? Alright. So the patient, you, Cat, are here today with recommendations from peers who have noticed a change in your behavior, though you have come here of your own accord. You are feeling symptoms of depression and anxiety strongly related to an event that happened last year, when these symptoms emerged. These symptoms have affected your personal life, work life, and schoolwork, and manifest in ways such as sweating, shaking, trouble breathing, anxiety attacks, irritability, feelings of guilt, emotional outbursts, sleeping too much, lack of focus, lack of motivation, trouble concentrating, lack of desire to do previously pleasurable hobbies, feelings of helplessness and hopelessness, distancing from others¡­. I think that¡¯s all you checked as far as symptoms. Anything else?¡± Good lord, what symptoms didn¡¯t she have? Cat shook her head, grimacing.

    ¡°That¡¯s it, that¡¯s all me,¡± she muttered.

    The intake specialist let out a short laugh. ¡°I guarantee that isn¡¯t the case. But hopefully we can arrange something here that might mitigate those symptoms, help you move on with your life.¡± Although she was still a little choked up from earlier, Cat smiled a little.

    ¡°I¡¯d like that.¡±

    ¡°Great. Give me some time to look over these and speak with my team. We¡¯ll give you a call in a few days¡¯ time to schedule your first appointment, and if everything looks in order when you arrive, we¡¯ll just sign some consent forms and whatnot. These will give us permission to work with you on your chosen topics, and there¡¯s an extra bit where you can consent for us to give your case work to a grad student for them to study therapy techniques. You don¡¯t have to sign that one.¡± Cat nodded as she rose from the seat in time with Naomi.

    ¡°Oh, is that how this is free?¡± Cat asked, shaking Naomi¡¯s hand. ¡°Because of the grad program?¡±

    ¡°The Associated Student Body also made a valid case a few years ago for counseling to be included as part of your tuition. The power of petitions.¡± They exchanged smiles and pleasantries, before Cat bid her farewell and walked back out to the waiting room.

    When she saw the clock across the way, it showed she¡¯d been here for closer to an hour, rather than the half hour that was promised her. Good, ol¡¯ bait and switch. She wanted to roll her eyes, but instead she looked over to the cushion she sat in before Naomi came to get her.

    Who else would it be?

    ¡°You said that¡¯d take half an hour,¡± she said, capturing Peter¡¯s attention. He looked up from his phone, jumping at her suddenness. ¡°You¡¯re a liar.¡± After taking a full moment to realize who was speaking to him, Peter managed a crooked smile.

    ¡°Are you going to do it?¡± he asked as she started her leave. ¡°Are you going to come back?¡± There was a slight smugness in his voice; if it weren¡¯t for that, she wouldn¡¯t have been able to suppress her smile.

    ¡°I think so.¡± As she passed him, she hesitated. ¡°But not because of anything you said.¡± He laughed, so she continued. ¡°Because of what Georgia said.¡± Peter let out a small ¡°mmm,¡± clearly pleased with himself.

    ¡°She¡¯s great, right?¡±

    Cat shrugged. ¡°If she¡¯s so great, I don¡¯t get why she hangs around you.¡± Ah, finally. A slight insult. Her daily quota had been met.

    Peter snorted. ¡±You hang around me.¡± Oh. Not a great one.

    ¡°That¡¯s--¡± Quick, something witty! ¡°Because I¡¯m an idiot.¡± Ugh. She wasn¡¯t supposed to say what she was thinking, but she got so caught up in the moment¡­.

    Peter laughed so hard, he had to throw his head back, and she shrunk into herself as she inched to the door. ¡°You said it!¡±

    ¡°...shut up.¡± She¡¯d have to try again later.

 Chapter 40

    Cat spent Friday and Saturday catching up on her ceramics projects. Thankfully, this seemed to be some sort of art that came naturally to her. Pinch pot? Easy, peasy. A kleenex holder? Also easy. Something about working the clay with her fingers, warming it with her skin, kneading it against the stone workspace, felt so soothing and instinctive. She¡¯d been able to predict every next step the projects called for, just by sensing it. Every moment she spent staining her hands red kept her in a meditative state; no thoughts in or out, no thoughts at all. Just the clay and the tools, and the cold bite of the winter air that snuck through the open roll-up door to the studio.

    She didn¡¯t think about anything of the past or the future. After that intake appointment, an odd tug in her stomach made her both nervous and excited for what was to come, but when she sat on the metal stool under the fluorescent lights, the feeling dissipated and left only relief. She didn¡¯t have to decide how she felt about the idea of counseling, or whether or not she could be fixed--or if she was broken in the first place. What remained during her focus was only the promise of something different: the ball of clay would turn into something else as long as she worked it and gave it the proper treatments. She didn¡¯t have to think too hard for all of this to be quite symbolic.

    The third project was a mini-bust, a shoulders-up sculpture of a head that was meant to be half the size of a real face of a person Cat knew. The project paperwork cited several ways to build tall structures without drying the clay out or putting in supports, one of which was spiraling clay and building sort of like a pyramid, from the bottom-up, layer by layer, and smoothing it out as she went along. Cat took her time on this, and eventually realized there was no finishing this project in one sitting. So she grabbed a trash bag to wrap around her project, and placed it in her cubby to work on later, hoping it was sealed just enough so that no air could dry it out prematurely. At least she had more time to figure out what face she would try to imitate. Though, the instructions for the project noted an odd phenomenon: busts always had a unique edge, where their creator¡¯s face always snuck through whatever portrait they planned--at least for amateurs. Looking about the studio to gather ideas, Cat figured that either this was true, or amateurs regularly picked sculpting their own face. It was impossible to tell without anyone explaining their work, though. And conversation wasn¡¯t commonplace among the strangers that worked on the weekends.

    Cat¡¯s only sense of the world around her returned when she happened to glance at the clock after setting her piece aside. She had no intention of skipping lunch. How in the world did she just spend four hours here, without a single break? More than that, after realizing it was already one in the afternoon, she was starving, and lunch with the group started half an hour ago.

    She dumped her supplies into her bucket without cleaning them and scrubbed her hands raw until she saw her natural skin color under the soap bubbles of the sink, then grabbed her bag and dashed for the food court.

    Cat¡¯s walk there felt similar to when she overslept and ran to class; it was as if she just took the World¡¯s Most Refreshing Nap. She hadn¡¯t actually spoken to any of her friends yesterday since she was in the studio, either. She got back late, barely had a chance to say good night to Hannah, and woke up early so she could keep going.

    Maybe if communications didn¡¯t work out, she could be a starving artist that spent more money on supplies than she earned¡­.

    The food court bustled, crowded and warm from all the ovens and stoves of the restaurants; it was so stuffy, Cat elected to take off her sweater and hang it on her bag as she made her way to the buffet-style deli to grab a quick sandwich.

    If it weren¡¯t for Peter¡¯s stupid hair poking up over the decorative hedge bushes, Cat wouldn¡¯t have known where to go to find her friends. But that telltale flash of blonde right under the skylight of the cafeteria was a beacon telling her where to go, so she headed over to the center of the court where tall dividers gave the illusion of privacy to sets of tables.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s necessary,¡± she heard him say with a slight edge to his voice. Cat hesitated on the opposite side of the hedge, holding her tray. He sounded defensive. She didn¡¯t like to make a habit of eavesdropping, but¡­.

    ¡°Well, I mean--she¡¯s been so wildly different.¡± Hannah. She sounded irritated, and the tingling sensation on the back of Cat¡¯s neck made it clear they were gossiping about her again. Rather than round the decoration and announce her late presence, she came to a stop before she could be seen approaching, behind the trash can, behind the hedge. ¡°She¡¯s taken more naps in the past month than I¡¯ve seen her do all last year. She avoids us like the plague--like now? Ignoring all of our texts to skip lunch? And she¡¯s been skipping classes?¡± She let out an exaggerated sigh. ¡°And I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve seen her do any homework for anything. It¡¯s like she¡¯s a whole different person.¡±

    ¡°And--¡± Kelsey continued, her voice sing-songy, ¡°like last year she was always messaging this dude on Talkative, but now she¡¯s not even looking at her phone. So it¡¯s not just us. She¡¯s avoiding everyone. When¡¯s the last time you heard her complain about her brother?¡± Cat pursed her lips. Her knuckles turned white against her plastic tray, struggling to keep the budding embers in her stomach under control. She already felt herself take an automatic step back, solidifying her decision to listen a bit longer.

    Cam, who she thought would be on her side, interrupted Peter¡¯s stammering: ¡°I think you guys are right.¡± Right about what!

    ¡°I¡¯m not saying you¡¯re wrong,¡± Peter added quickly, further stoking Cat¡¯s anger, ¡°but I don¡¯t think ambushing her with an intervention will work like you think it would.¡±

    ¡°With all due respect, Peter,¡± Hannah said, seemingly more agitated than before, ¡°I don¡¯t think you have any leg to stand on when it comes to comforting Cat. She hates your guts, and you guys have to have supervised interactions or she¡¯d straight-up kill you.¡± Cat carefully set her tray down on the dirty table beside her, and slipped into the plastic chair that sat against the hedge barrier, her friend¡¯s voices now effectively behind her. Their energy as a group was irritating, but what they said was far more obnoxious. Why did anyone ever think it was okay to speak for her? Why didn¡¯t anyone ever just ask? She never said she hated Peter¡­well, recently.

    While Kelsey and Cameron murmured words of agreement, Peter stammered again. ¡°I was there--¡±

    ¡°Man,¡± Kelsey interrupted, ¡°when she hit her head, her main thing wasn¡¯t that she could¡¯ve died, it was that you saved her. Like--¡± She laughed. ¡°Maybe we should do the opposite of whatever you suggest.¡± Cam let out a chuckle, though it was airy and a little nervous. Cat scowled. She never even personally told Kelsey that story. Why was she commenting on it?

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    ¡°Well¡­,¡± Hannah mumbled, hardly. She knew, at least, that Cat¡¯s main issue with being saved was the feeling that she could never do the same, not that her savior was someone she didn¡¯t get along with. The way Kelsey twisted it made Cat¡¯s stomach hurt. And although Hannah started to protest, she didn¡¯t try very hard to make it right.

    Cameron continued, ¡°Yeah, when I told her what the rumor was that was going around form after the party, she blew up like dynamite. I think the only thing that maybe saved your ass was that Georgia was included in it.¡± No one laughed, but Cat watched Peter¡¯s hair move back a bit on the other side of the hedge; he was straightening his back, tensing up. She¡¯d only ever seen him shut down like that in front of her.

    Kelsey¡¯s voice sounded a little less certain, but she doubled-down on Cam¡¯s comment: ¡°Yeah, you might be right when it comes to us, but leave understanding Cat to us.¡± Were they completely oblivious? Even if Peter was wrong, couldn¡¯t they tell he was furious right now?

    ¡°I think you¡¯re underestimating what she went through,¡± Peter said tersely. ¡°And fine, you might all know Cat better than I do, but in this case¡­.¡± Though as she listened to this, she disagreed. Peter seemed the only one to get her at the moment. It was as if his fury leaked through the leaves of the hedge between them, feeding hers.

    "I think that as nice as you¡¯re trying to be--¡±

    Peter interrupted Hannah this time, his voice taut and sharp: ¡°You weren¡¯t there.¡± The table fell silent. ¡°This isn¡¯t something you just ambush someone about.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not an ambush!¡± Hannah was defensive, now. ¡°It¡¯d just be like when she clammed up last semester, with your thing--¡±

    ¡°That was an ambush,¡± he corrected. ¡°And it wasn¡¯t about her at that time.¡±

    ¡°Peter,¡± Cam started, now, his voice calmer than before, ¡°chill. We¡¯re not going to attack her. It¡¯s just like, ¡®Hey, you¡¯re being a bit distant, come back and party with us.¡¯¡± Catherine fought the urge to roll her eyes. Cam sounded so stupid right now.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t she make you promise not to talk about it to her?¡±

    ¡°Well--¡± Hannah started to reply, but Peter knew the answer.

    ¡°Then don¡¯t talk about it to her.¡±

    ¡°Okay--¡± Cam started this time, his hand slapping the plastic table. ¡°So you think we shouldn¡¯t talk to her? Avoid it all like she is? Like that¡¯s okay?¡± Peter responded in kind, but his slap was far louder, echoing across the cafeteria. Cat flinched.

    ¡°You think this is something where you just hug it out and everything will go back to the way it was?¡± His voice was louder, now, drawing a few glances from strangers at distant tables. Cat¡¯s heart sank as her gaze fell to the ground. Internally, she knew what Peter was saying was right...but she didn¡¯t hear it out loud, before. Now it started to click into place in her mind. ¡°This isn¡¯t an argument with an ex-boyfriend. Things aren¡¯t going to go back to the way they were.¡±

    The silence that filled the table on the other side of the hedge could be cut with a knife.

    Hannah broke it, ¡°But--like, here¡¯s the thing: she ended up okay. She didn¡¯t die, she didn¡¯t--¡±

    ¡°So you¡¯re cool with what happened, then?¡± Cat¡¯s eyes widened at Peter¡¯s venom.

    ¡°Woah, that¡¯s not--¡±

    ¡°If Georgia wasn¡¯t there at that exact moment, we wouldn¡¯t have even seen her. Twenty seconds sooner or later, Cat would have been--¡± He didn¡¯t finish the thought. ¡°And none of you would know what was going on, because Cat wouldn¡¯t tell you.¡± She hadn¡¯t even realized that she¡¯d been clutching her hand close to her chest, holding her breath. Waiting, listening with unbreakable concentration. A small piece of her still felt so angry, even partially at Peter--he wasn¡¯t her protector. He shouldn¡¯t have been speaking for her. But the greatest part of her chest felt an overwhelming, bitter warmth. Of everyone there, why did he act like he cared the most? Cam called her his best friend. Hannah said they were better than sisters.

    Cameron scooted his chair further away from Peter, as if he was leaning back in shock, as he said, ¡°We¡¯re on the same side, here. We¡¯re all trying to help her through this.¡± Their voices sounded uneven through the hedge; three on one, now that Cam scooted away from his roommate.

    ¡°Then maybe you should start acting like it,¡± Peter snapped. ¡°Help all of her, not just the parts that are convenient for you to see.¡± If Peter hadn¡¯t scooted out of his chair, Cat wouldn¡¯t have been able to blink herself out of Nate¡¯s bathroom. She was only there a moment, vomiting and sobbing in her memories, but Peter¡¯s deep breath brought her back out. ¡°Sorry for the outburst. You¡¯re all just being...incredibly dumb right now.¡± She watched Peter¡¯s head pop up from the side of the hedge; his jaw was set, his eyes narrowed. ¡°I¡¯m going to get some laps in before practice. See you there, Cam.¡± The screech against the floor told Cat he pushed his chair in and picked up his tray, and walked to the trash can that punctuated the mid-point between that set of tables and the ones Cat currently sat at. Her throat closed up when she saw the edges of his jacket come into view while he dumped his tray, then the rest of him as he started his way to the door. He hesitated, noticing her out of the corner of his eye, and let out the smallest gasp.

    She couldn¡¯t bring herself to look up at him; as if it would help her disappear, her arms wrapped themselves until the sound of his footsteps alerted her to his departure. He seemed to understand she didn¡¯t want to be visible right now, like he¡¯d already seen too much.

    ¡°What was that?¡± Cam asked after a moment of silence. ¡°Did you see that? He looked like he saw something--¡±

    ¡°Do you think they¡¯re hanging out without us knowing?¡± Hannah asked suddenly, completely ignoring Cam. ¡°¡¯Cause why the hell would he think he¡¯s an expert about this all of a sudden?¡± She sounded annoyed.

    Kelsey hummed her agreement. ¡°I don¡¯t know what that was.¡± But her tone showed distaste. What, they were done gossiping about Cat, now, so they had to move onto Peter? With the shock fully out of her system, the anger returned.

    ¡°I don¡¯t care what he says,¡± Hannah said finally. ¡°I think we should at least try to talk to her about it.¡± Hearing this made Cat slam her hand on the table as she rose, and she stormed around the trash can and hedge to face her friends for the first time since she sat down.

    Kelsey, Hannah, and Cam stared up at her like they¡¯d just seen a ghost, though all of them looked far guiltier. All it took was seeing her flushed cheeks to let them know they¡¯d been in the wrong.

    ¡°I¡¯m not gunna make this a thing or whatever,¡± she said hotly, ¡°but maybe you should listen to the person that was there, rather than just gossiping about your own selfish thoughts.¡± Cam was the first to look away in defeat, but Hannah and Kelsey still looked up at her, as if they thought they were in the right. Cat barred her teeth and took a step closer, pointing at each of them. ¡°For the record, this is exactly why I wouldn¡¯t tell you shit. You want to help me? How about you listen to me rather than just spread rumors and gossip behind my back?¡± She didn¡¯t mean to dig at Cam again, but him shrinking in his chair like a child fed the flame in her heart. Kelsey finally looked away.

    ¡°Cat--¡± Hannah started, her tone defensive, but she interrupted her.

    ¡°No,¡± she spat. Hannah¡¯s lips pursed tightly; her eyes finally drifted to look at her companions, the telltale sign she¡¯d maybe started to understand. ¡°If you don¡¯t see something wrong with all of you ganging up Peter, when he helped carry me back to my dorm rather than just leaving me to get raped at a frat party, then you need to get your heads out of your asses.¡±

    She waited a full second to watch their reactions, to see if there were any disagreements or protests, but she¡¯d successfully scolded them into defeat. If they didn¡¯t at least understand how incredibly insensitive they were being, they at least knew now was not the time to defend themselves.

    ¡°We fucked up,¡± Cameron finally muttered under his breath. She watched him try to make eye contact with Kelsey and Hannah, but they weren¡¯t responsive to him.

    Cat sighed. ¡°Yeah. You almost did.¡± The guilt that always hung around her almost succeeded in her retreating to an apology, but she clenched her teeth and turned away before it could win.

    Maybe she was a totally different person, now. But she was done being a doormat. Just because one creep manipulated her into a vulnerable enough spot to take advantage of her, did not mean she¡¯d lost her courage forever. Nate had already stolen too much.

 Chapter 41

    Clay had seeped so far into her clothes that it pulled at her skin when she got ready for her shower. On her way past the mirrors, she saw some smeared on her chin, brushing up from her jaw to her mouth. When she washed her hair, colorful mud fell in clumps to the drain. The different reds and tans showed her how dried it was, how some of it must have been from last night. How did she sleep with clay in her hair without knowing? How did it even get where it did?

    But the clay watered down and drifted down the drain in the same way that the rules of the ceramics studio warned against. Clay wasn¡¯t supposed to go down the drain in excess, because it could ruin the pipes. Then again, Cat doubted clay was the worst thing to go down these bathroom ducts.

    Robe tied tight, Cat held her clothes under her arm on her way back to her dorm. She knew Kelsey and Hannah would be there, sitting guiltily, waiting to apologize. Part of her debated, on her way back, on whether or not she was ready to hear it...but her muscles relaxed from the warm water, and her hands ached from working on her ceramics projects; the only bit of her that had any energy left was her mind, fully refreshed from her newest creative outlet.

    She¡¯d already forgiven them by the time she keyed open the door and saw them sitting on Hannah¡¯s bed, waiting for her. Cat sighed when she shut the door behind her, watching her friends wait patiently for their turn. She decided to wait to address them until she pulled on a simple yellow dress and tights. They were restless by the time Cat sat down in her desk chair with her hairbrush. She had grown accustomed to silence over the past couple months; they had not.

    She finally looked to them, frowning, before she said, ¡°You know, I love you guys. You¡¯re just very stupid sometimes.¡± Hannah let out a breath, though Kelsey dropped her gaze to the ground, her fingers fidgeting restlessly.

    Hannah was the first to speak. ¡°If you won¡¯t talk to us, how are we supposed to know how to help you?¡± Well, that wasn¡¯t what she expected. Cat blinked at her.

    Kelsey grumbled something under her breath, but Hannah nudged her.

    ¡°No, say it louder so she can hear,¡± she said, her eyes still on her roommate. Cat raised a brow.

    ¡°I said,¡± Kelsey repeated, finally looking up, ¡°how are we supposed to support you if you keep shoving us away?¡± She didn¡¯t have an answer to that.

    Hannah continued, ¡°You know, the most honest you¡¯ve even been this whole semester was when you just yelled at us.¡± It was Cat¡¯s turn to avoid their gazes, now. ¡°And--Peter¡¯s way of ignoring it all might be nice and easy for you, but it¡¯s not how the world works.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not ignoring it,¡± Cat corrected with a grimace. She shut her eyes, but couldn¡¯t bring herself to say much more.

    ¡°Then tell us what to do!¡± Kelsey exploded. Her frustration gave way to desperation. ¡°Maybe you don¡¯t want to talk about it, but that¡¯s--it¡¯s supposed to help! And you¡¯ve just been pushing and ignoring us and lying--how are we supposed to react, if not to try and force it all out of you?¡±

    Cat¡¯s hands started to tremble, from fatigue, from the soft counting in her head. From the memory of porcelain under her fingertips, her fingernails scratching as she retched over and over again.

    ¡°If I talk about it,¡± she started with a weak voice, ¡°I¡¯m just--I¡¯m back there again. I don¡¯t want to go back there.¡± It took a full second for her eyes to see her dorm room floor when she opened them, instead of the swirling sight of Nate¡¯s kitchen when he pressed her against the wall.

    ¡°Do you want me to kill him?¡± Hannah¡¯s question burst her thought bubble. Cat looked up at her, shocked.

    ¡°What?¡± For the first time in a long while, their eyes finally met.

    ¡°Is that what would get you back?¡± Hannah asked, her gaze intense. ¡°If I go cut off his dick, will you feel better?¡± Kelsey leaned a little bit away from her with a disgusted expression.

    ¡°Hannah--¡± she started.

    ¡°Well, what is it?¡± she nearly shouted, twisting to her redheaded friend. ¡°I¡¯m not there to save her when it happens, she won¡¯t let me in now, what¡¯s it gunna be?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, stop yelling at me!¡± Kelsey spat back. ¡°She said doesn¡¯t want anything!¡±

    Cat¡¯s vision blurred when she blinked; her face was suddenly hot when she looked at Kelsey and Hannah, both seconds away from rage and despair. She tried not to let it, but her lips parted for the tiniest of sobs; the girls turned to look at her even though she could hardly hear it, herself.

    ¡°Actually,¡± Cat squeaked, ¡°a hug sounds nice.¡± And by the time Cat closed her eyes to let any tears out, arms wrapped around her on either side to squeeze the life out of her, to keep the rawest pieces of herself together.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Hannah murmured in her ear. She rubbed one shoulder while Kelsey took the other, spreading their warmth. ¡°I¡¯ll rip his dick off anyway.¡± Cat managed a small laugh as she buried her head into Kelsey¡¯s shoulder.

    ¡°What the¡­.¡± Kelsey reached for something in Cat¡¯s hair, then yanked.

    ¡°Ow! The fuck?¡± The trio pulled apart, and Kelsey showed what she found.

    ¡°You had a rock growing in your hair.¡± Clay. She pulled a chunk of clay out of her hair. And for whatever reason, this was the absolute most hilarious thing Cat had ever heard in her life, and she burst into laughter. Her heaves were almost indiscernible from sobs, but the girls were able to keep up, and offered quiet chuckles until Cat was ready to suck in enough air to speak.

    ¡°I-I¡¯m just not ready yet.¡± She wiped under her eyes, thankful she hadn¡¯t put on any makeup, and tried to sniffle quietly. ¡°I¡¯m not ready to do anything yet.¡± Maybe soon. But not when she couldn¡¯t keep herself from transporting back there, back to his house, whenever she thought of it.

    ¡°We can give you space and still be close to you,¡± said Kelsey. She backed away a bit and sat on the floor; Hannah crawled over so that she could face Cat, too.

    ¡°We¡¯re here when you¡¯re ready,¡± her roommate agreed. Their words sent a surge of warmth spiraling up her stomach; she almost smiled. Kelsey adjusted herself a bit, crossing her legs as she leaned forward.

    ¡°Are you going to stop pushing everyone away?¡± She sounded almost like a mother ensuring her child washed their hands after going to the bathroom. Cat looked at her, sighing, but couldn¡¯t find any words, and shrugged.

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    ¡°Omigod,¡± Hannah started, gasping, ¡°was Nate the guy on Talkative? Is that why--¡±

    ¡°No--I don¡¯t--I¡¯m fairly sure he¡¯s not,¡± Cat corrected before the thought could fully cross her mind again. The memory she had of the day of the party wasn¡¯t great, but she knew PumpkinKing spent the whole day making her laugh, helping her ¡°reset.¡± Her heart sank a little. ¡°I just--I just freaked out and deleted the app.¡± Out of the corner of her eye, the little notification light on Cat¡¯s phone blinked, signifying she had a notification. It had been months and she still sometimes thought that she might see PumpkinKing has started a thread! when she looked at it.

    ¡°You ghosted the dude you were flirting with all semester?¡± Kelsey asked, cringing. ¡°Poor guy.¡±

    ¡°I told him I was just taking a break from the app,¡± she said. Cat fully looked to her phone now. Upon touching it, she saw the text she was notified about. Hannah, from when Cat went to the bathroom: r u peeing, pooping, or showering? What the hell, Hannah? Gross. There was no way looking at the notification would be that PumpkinKing started a thread or messaged her, but this was message was worse than seeing those emails about mythical princes needing her money.

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you ever just get his number?¡± Cat shrugged to Kelsey¡¯s question.

    ¡°Do you want us to find out who he is?¡± Hannah asked, eyes wide.

    ¡°God, no--no.¡± Cat shook her head and let out a laugh. ¡°No. I...bet that ship has sailed.¡± It didn¡¯t matter anyway. Even if she had the opportunity to find out who PumpkinKing was, even if it was to just confirm that he never was Nate, or that he was never someone Nate ever even spoke to, Cat wasn¡¯t sure she¡¯d opt to find out. The anonymity never really factored into their exchanges. It never mattered.

    ¡°Well, you¡¯re going to stop pushing everyone away, right? Real and digital?¡± Kelsey rubber-banded back to her point, and Cat sighed.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to try. And you¡¯re going to make sure, aren¡¯t you?¡± Although her voice sounded tight and regretful, Cat counted on her friends¡¯ pushiness. She¡¯d lost one friend to this whole ordeal just from deleting an app, and he was never involved in the first place. And if Kelsey, Hannah, and Cam actually ambushed her like they were planning, it wasn¡¯t a far stretch to think that it might not have been a pretty ending. She could have been totally alone....

    Kelsey brightened up. ¡°Consider me your accountabili-buddy! You are now no longer to allow awful shitheads to scare you away from us or anyone. Deal?¡±

    Cat smiled, sniffling to her friends. ¡°Deal.¡±

    <hr>

    It would have been nice to hang out with everyone with everything out in the open. Well, theoretically. But Sunday, Cat had to cover Jeffrey¡¯s shift at Jittery Joe¡¯s, and she was gone the entire time that anyone was available to hang out; she didn¡¯t get off of work until closing time at eleven, and Hannah was already asleep by the time she¡¯d gotten back.

    Hashing things out with Hannah and Kelsey gave her something she didn¡¯t realize she missed. Cat¡¯s protective shell, her whole set of friends, acted like a small battery pack for her. She saw them, they recharged her. It was disappointing to finally have the promise of things returning to some bit of normal only for work to get in the way.

    Sleep was elusive when she lay in her bed at midnight after work, waiting to feel tired. Maybe she should¡¯ve avoided drinking that extra coffee with her dinner break--but it was difficult to keep on her Customer Service smile after a full day of working, plus Jeffrey¡¯s half-shift.

    Cat stared at the word game on her phone and guessed the wrong answer for maybe the thirtieth time in a row. This wasn¡¯t helping her sleep; she needed something mindless to bore her. Searching the app store only made her heart jump to her throat. Top App for the Week: Talkative! Chat with local strangers on common topics.

    Kelsey was right to be a little miffed with Cat, how she suddenly stopped connecting with everyone when everything went down. Would anyone on Talkative notice she wasn¡¯t around for the winter break? There were plenty of people she¡¯d interacted with on a daily basis before...but only one she ever thought of with some regularity.

    She¡¯d downloaded the app without another thought. Her eyes kept flicking over to Hannah¡¯s sleeping form, as if she was doing something secretive or embarrassing, before the app finished loading and popped up on her screen.

    Her phone remembered her login (which was good, because she wasn¡¯t sure what password she used in the first place), and she immediately opened her notifications.

    Life for PumpkinKing went on fine without her, it turned out. (Not that she was super disappointed by that or anything¡­.) He posted dozens of threads, some asking for Netflix documentary recommendations to put him to sleep at night, others asking about petty (yet still legal) revenge ideas to inconvenience someone¡¯s life. He even added onto other peoples¡¯ threads, as normal, including one about job interview tips. He returned to dominating the Roast My Subject thread, this time with only PandaSex69 ever challenging him directly.

    The only time she was even mentioned by him was in one response, nearly a week ago, to someone¡¯s prompt of the newest superhero movie that just came out. He said, ¡°My interest in that movie disappeared faster than InsultCatapult at the promise of winter break.¡± For some reason, it made her chest hurt a little.

    Cat pursed her lips. What was she expecting? This was an anonymous forum. People came and went all the time. They probably even changed screen names just as often. This wasn¡¯t an app conducive to meaningful friendships at all. Why should people comment on whether or not she was around?

    Finally, Cat got to the messages section of her notifications. Five new chats. Well, that was a little weird--until she saw that four of them were spam. Study drugs, new strip joint down the street, where to get pot, and a penis enhancement pill that worked ¡°too well for the FDA to approve.¡±

    The final one turned out to be what she was looking for all along, her chat with PumpkinKing that got pushed down to the bottom of her notifications over the months. Good luck on finals, was her final sentence to him. But he had more to say.

    Is it just the app? We can stay in touch, if you want¡­

    ...I mean, even if you still want it to be anonymous, that¡¯s totally cool. I get it. I can make a fake email.

    Guess you already deleted...and I¡¯m just here¡­

    Talking to myself¡­

    Two days passed before his next set of messages.

    So you probably already deleted the app, but on the off-chance you ever reinstall and want to talk to me ever again, I figured I should actually respond to what you said. So here goes:

    I really hope you¡¯re doing okay. I hope your finals went okay. I had a lot of fun getting to know you and

    His message cut off until a time stamp showed up, indicating more than five minutes had passed between his thoughts.

    idk I just hope that wasn¡¯t goodbye forever. I really like you too.

    His final set of messages were dated to about two weeks after she¡¯d deleted; one was a set of gifs of penguins pushing each other into the ocean. Cat had to cover her mouth to stop herself from making any noise and waking up Hannah.

    Then, finally, he said, Thought of you immediately. If you do reinstall or ever see these messages, I wanted to leave you with something funny.

    Well...talk to you later, maybe. :)

    She couldn¡¯t contain herself any longer. Fingers at the ready, Cat finally crafted her first message to him since last year. She settled with a simple, Miss me? :)

    Maybe that was too bold. Maybe she should have just stuck with ¡°hi¡± or sent him something funny, too. What if he was just being nice, with everything he said? But before she could panic too much, she watched his status go from offline to online immediately, and the three dots to indicate his response. Even after she deleted, he never took her off his notifications.

    Cat swore to herself when she flopped onto her back to stare at her ceiling. Stranger or not, PumpkinKing actually cared about her, or whatever he perceived her to be on this anonymous site. Kelsey and Hannah and Cam cared about her so much, they got angry at Peter for telling them to leave her alone. Hannah even joked (maybe?) about murder.

    And Peter¡­.

    Before Cat could even begin to unpack everything he¡¯d done, PumpkinKing settled on his response to her return: New phone who dis? Cat failed at containing her giggle. Hannah muttered something, but Cat ignored her.

    Bitter? she messaged back, smiling to herself.

    Na, just Salty. She hesitated, squinting. He finally punctuated his joke with a winkie face.

    Was that a chemistry joke? she asked.

    PumpkinKing sent her a gif of a baby in a lab coat and goggles. What, no reaction?

    At least nothing changed with him. And for now, it was the only concrete proof she needed to know that things would get better.

 Chapter 42

    ¡°Hey.¡± The harsh whisper startled Cat; she jumped a little in her bed, eyes opening to see Hannah standing over her, bag on her shoulder. ¡°When¡¯s your class?¡± Cat groaned, covering her face.

    ¡°What time is it?¡± she muttered. She didn¡¯t get to sleep until--what, four in the morning? She just spent the whole night texting Pumpkin, catching up, reconnecting. They never even spoke about why she left the app in the first place, or why she never thought to get his number. They just joked about recent events, and even, for the littlest bit, debated some politics. Nothing too heated--they seemed to be perfectly aligned with their views on immigration reform. Apparently PumpkinKing came from a family of immigrants, too. It felt like an inappropriate time to ask where from; though, now, she imagined he had some sort of sexy, foreign accent. Maybe French or something.

    Hannah¡¯s nudge forced Cat¡¯s eyes back open. She hadn¡¯t realized she was falling asleep again.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got class, and I know you have class. I¡¯m just making sure you aren¡¯t skipping. Also, you forgot to plug your phone in all night.¡± Hannah¡¯s voice wasn¡¯t quiet and whispery, now that Cat blinked into the light of the open blinds. Cat glanced to her hand, where her phone still nestled between her fingers. The red LED light blinked, indicating it was going to die soon. Cat yawned.

    ¡°I¡¯m not skipping. But I guess I forgot to turn on my alarm¡­.¡± Another, louder yawn came through. ¡°Thanks for waking me up.¡±

    ¡°When did you get back from work last night?¡± her roommate asked, retreating to the mirror on her side of the room. ¡°You look exhausted.¡±

    Cat couldn¡¯t contain her smile. ¡°I got back at midnight, but I was catching up with...an old friend ¡¯til four.¡± Not that old of a friend...but it did certainly feel like she¡¯d known him for a lot longer than just a semester.

    Hannah spun around, grinning from ear to ear as she said, ¡°You¡¯re opening up again?¡±

    ¡°Baby steps,¡± Cat confirmed as she sat up in her bed. Her shoulders popped in unison, her back slightly tweaked from falling asleep in that weird position.

    ¡°I¡¯m proud of you, Kitty Cat.¡± The surge of warmth in her stomach gave Cat enough energy to get ready for her day.

    <hr>

    Cat had managed to charge her phone enough so that she could keep talking to PumpkinKing throughout when she closed for work again. Despite being utterly exhausted, she still found herself with the tiniest bit of energy, enough to finish her shift without passing out. It probably had a lot to do with their conversation.

    So, I was kind of wondering..., his message started out, if you¡¯re an old man trying to catfish me. He wasn¡¯t direct, but she knew exactly where this was going. She held her breath while he continued, Which would suck, because it would be even more humiliating to admit that I¡¯ve had more fun talking to you through text than I¡¯ve ever had physically seeing someone. He wanted to meet, she realized nervously. She knew this would come up soon. Cat used the entirety of the dinner rush of coffee addicts to decide how she felt about what he said, what he was actually looking for. She missed talking to him, she liked him...and knowing he felt the same made her heart feel like someone put a taser to it, but¡­.

    Cat sighed. If I were catfishing you, I think you would have given me money by now¡­.which I won¡¯t say no to.

    It took several minutes for Pumpkin to come up with a response. She knew she wasn¡¯t making it easy on him. Maybe she should have settled for brutal honesty rather than just avoiding it.

    I¡¯d need to know your name to give you any money. Oh. Clever. She was so tempted to just give it to him, too, but she held back when a surge of anxiety coursed through her veins just by typing her name once.

    On her break, Cat sat behind the coffee shop by the dumpsters, shivering in her coat and staring at her phone. No matter how many times she started and stopped a response, none of it seemed to fit.

    I kind of like the anonymity, she typed back, hoping it was gentle enough. She didn¡¯t want to flat-out say no to meeting him. Just maybe not right now. I like getting to know you, too, but I don¡¯t know if I¡¯m at a place where I¡¯m willing to risk very much. The worst thing in the world would be to meet him in person and find out he was some sort of serial killer. Or worse, what if he was an old man trying to get her to give him money? She¡¯d seen enough Dateline episodes to know that the long game was never too long. But most of all...she just couldn¡¯t handle him turning out to be a creep, too. It was hard enough to get to this point for someone she hardly cared about with the whole Nate situation. If Pumpkin turned out to be like that, how would she ever--

    How about a compromise? he messaged back. She stared at her phone, and just sent him a question mark. How was there a compromise between meeting someone and not?

    Cat¡¯s break ended before she got any clever replies from Pumpkin, but it made her stomach swirl too fast for comfort while she continued pretending to smile at strangers as she took their money. But at some point, she got a chance to look at their chat. His response was a link. The preview said, ¡°Watch movies in sync with your friends from anywhere in the world! Just log in, share a code, and view the same screen.¡±

    Pumpkin waited a few more minutes before he added, Anonymous date?

    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    How¡­?

    Make a new email address, sign up for this site, and we can watch a movie together. No meeting necessary.

    After praying briefly that the link he sent wasn¡¯t a virus, Cat clicked it to open it on her phone. Bunny.tv was a site that streamed a person¡¯s Netflix account; it even had a chat box and a ¡°request to pause¡± button. The edges of her smile reached her ears before she even realized how much she loved this idea.

    Too forward¡­? Pumpkin messaged when she still had yet to reply. Laughter bubbled up to her lips from the swirling butterflies in her stomach.

    This was perfect. When¡¯s our date?

    <hr>

    Waiting until Wednesday night to have her first official date with Pumpkin was torture. Classes ticked by so slowly on Tuesday, and to make things even worse, she had her first tutoring appointment right after her pre-calc class. Or rather, not-tutoring-appointment, so Peter didn¡¯t get in trouble for violating his contract.

    They sat in the cafeteria so Cat could scarf down some food. She missed having lunch with everyone, but Peter reassured her that simply being in the class, even if she didn¡¯t understand what the professor said yet, was going to help. The professor was an elderly man that seemed to think everything in the universe was because of the math around them, and he didn¡¯t seem to have any time to interact with anyone that disagreed--which was the majority of his students. People would raise their hand to ask a question or ask him to repeat something, but he droned on, ignored them, never looking up from the book or the board he wrote on.

    Cat slumped against the cafeteria table Peter picked with her hand holding her head up, sleepy. It was hard to be excited about anything after a hour and a half of her life was wasted. And right now, they sat in silence as Peter went over her meager notes, his eyes studying her handwriting intensely as he compared it to the syllabus.

    ¡°I hate it when professors bounce around in math classes,¡± he mumbled to himself, shaking his head. ¡°The books were built this way for a reason. He should have explained these concepts at the beginning of the class.¡± It had been maybe ten minutes of Cat sitting, bored out of her mind, while Peter muttered to himself and asked her questions about how her professor was. She¡¯d tried asking how long he would be, and five minutes ago he said he¡¯d be done in a minute. She was paying for this?

    ¡°How do I get free tutoring like everyone else?¡± she asked as she stabbed at her Caesar salad.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be a freshman, essentially,¡± he said with a shrug. ¡°Tutoring is free for anyone who has attended the school for at least a year. It¡¯s not even free for me.¡±

    Cat sat up a little. ¡°You have tutoring, too?¡± Peter finally looked up from her notes, his brows furrowed.

    ¡°Of course. Anatomy was difficult last semester. Lots of...memorization.¡±

    She scowled. ¡°Ew.¡±

    ¡°That wasn¡¯t an innuendo,¡± he said through a sigh. He didn¡¯t sound like he was in the mood to talk about it, though, and immediately went back to her notes. And, since she was paying him for this, she bit her tongue at all the sharp jabs she could spit at him. But why was he taking so long figuring out where she was lost? She didn¡¯t write that much during the exactly two classes she attended. What could be so hard to decipher?

    ¡°Do you like tutoring over repairing cell phones?¡± She tried to take the boredom out of her tone, but feeling this restless, just wanting time to pass and not to have to experience anything until tomorrow night, was making her so antsy. She didn¡¯t want to talk about math. She wanted to joke with Pumpkin about the sad state of the world, and exchange favorite YouTube videos and watch whatever documentary he had picked out for them to watch. But instead she was here, struggling to learn pre-calc. Peter nodded, but didn¡¯t say anything to her question. She switched tactics. ¡°Do you ever get to hang out with Georgia even though you don¡¯t work with her anymore?¡± Finally, Peter looked back up from her notes.

    ¡°Yeah, I actually just hung out with her this weekend.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, she likes to take me to bars so guys don¡¯t hit on her.¡± Only one dimple appeared to punctuate his crooked smile, but it was genuine. He was just trying to remain so serious and stoic so that pre-calc could be as boring as possible.

    ¡°That¡¯s funny.¡± Cat actually laughed. Georgia was a genius. She imagined Georgia hitting on all the girls that went up to Peter, stealing their attention, sort of like how she did Cat at the water polo party last year. ¡°But then she prevents the girls from approaching you.¡±

    Peter shrugged as he flipped a page in her pre-calc book. ¡°Win-win situation.¡±

    Cat squinted at him. ¡°Are you...switching?¡± Cameron would be pleased to hear about that.

    ¡°Hm?¡± He didn¡¯t seem to understand until he looked up at her. ¡°What? No. I¡¯m not...I¡¯m just not doing that right now.¡± Pft. She rolled her eyes, mind bouncing to the other parties she saw him at last year. Tanisha, Hannah--and even semi-secretly dating Kelsey. He was almost as bad as Cam.

    ¡°Going out with girls? Why not? You went out with--¡±

    Peter interrupted her. ¡°I¡¯m almost done reading this stuff, just give me a minute.¡±

    ¡°You said that ten minutes ago.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m trying to see what you¡¯re not getting.¡± Cat groaned. ¡°I¡¯m doing you a favor, here.¡±

    She sighed. ¡°Yeah, yeah¡­just that I¡¯m sitting here...doing nothing.¡± Being useless. Being helpless. Again.

    "You could go bar-hopping with Georgia to stop guys from hitting on her.¡± Cat laughed dryly.

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m not...not into that either.¡± At least at the moment. She was perfectly content not drinking and texting her random Internet stranger.

    ¡°You just interrogated me on it, and you¡¯re not even--¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m already...kind of seeing someone.¡±

    His gaze snapped to hers. ¡°You are?¡± His shock would have been insulting if she didn¡¯t know him so well.

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    ¡°Who?¡±

    ¡°I--¡± How was she going to tell him that he didn¡¯t know them because she didn¡¯t either? There was absolutely no way she could explain that to him and come out of this with the same amount of dwindling pride she came to this fake-tutoring session with. ¡°Just someone. Kind of.¡± She shrugged, hoping it was enough.

    ¡°Oh.¡± Cat squinted at the tone in his voice, high, sort of judgey. ¡°I didn¡¯t--I mean, good for you.¡± Why was he being so weird about it? Because she could get a date and he couldn¡¯t? But his expression, distant, reflecting, made her defensiveness disappear. He wasn¡¯t jealous. ¡°I¡¯m surp--but I mean it¡¯s good...after everything.¡± Cat stared at her hands, fidgeting. She¡¯d love to be irritated at his surprise, but she understood it completely. It wasn¡¯t as if he didn¡¯t practically force her to go to therapy so she could deal with her ¡°trauma¡± like a normal human person.

    ¡°Yeah.¡± Now her stomach felt weird. Maybe this whole thing with PumpkinKing was too fast anyway. She didn¡¯t even know him. Was going on this anonymous date a step forward, a sign of healing, or was it too soon? The sudden doubt almost made her want to ask Peter what he thought about it. But that would have been a mistake.

    Peter cleared his throat and finally set her book on the table in front of her salad. ¡°Anyway, I think I see what you¡¯re missing here.¡± Well. At least he finished boring her to death so she had something else to think about.

 Chapter 43

    Wednesday was supposed to be full of nervous butterflies and light joking until her date that night. Her English class was cancelled, and she traded shifts with Jeffrey from when he was sick, so she was completely free. The only thing she had scheduled was lunch with everyone. But for whatever reason, things were...strange.

    Kelsey cancelled last-minute with a picture of her face shoved behind a giant cup of tea and a Nyquil bottle, and Hannah was late grabbing food because the lines for ramen were so long. It seemed to put her in a sour mood when she finally sat at the table.

    "Everyone and their mother is out today," she muttered as she picked at the wrapper holding her chopsticks. Cam would have normally made a joke, but he didn''t reply at all, just kept his gaze at his sandwich, head on his fist. His hair was still a little damp from water polo, but he wasn''t in his usual excited state that practice usually put him in. Cat remained quiet, uncertain how to handle this. She''d never experienced both Hannah and Cam in bad moods. She didn''t even notice that Peter didn''t touch his pizza, either, until Hannah joined them.

    Hannah''s mood settled quickly enough, and after a completely silent minute, she glanced to Cat, as if to ask what happened.

    "Um," Cat sounded, hoping to get their attention, "what''s going on?"

    "Nothing," Peter was quick to answer. His tone sounded genuine, but the rest of him, slumped, frowning so hard that his dimples came out--He was in a terrible mood. Maybe practice went poorly?

    "Are you guys fighting again?" Hannah asked.

    Cam let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. He gave a quick glance to Peter, then thought better at replying. What was that?

    "Nope," Peter answered again. Cat and Hannah exchanged uneasy glances.

    "So what''s wrong, then?" Hannah''s voice was gentle, but prodding. It was almost like a warning; if they didn''t tell her right now, she''d put on her Detective Hat and find out, herself, and then she''d lecture them about not telling her in the first place.

    Cam looked like he was boiling alive, his fist closed tightly on the table. Peter kept his face smooth, distant, like he normally did when he was beyond pissed off. Cat opted to stare at Hannah until Cam slammed his fist on the table.

    "This is fucking stupid." And, in a dramatic fashion that only Cam could pull off, he scooted out of his chair and stormed out of the cafeteria, leaving his sandwich untouched on the table. Peter''s careful expression cracked for just a moment, betraying his attempt to look cool and collected.

    "Yeah," Peter muttered.

    "What..?" He ignored Hannah and stood up from his chair, and followed out the same door that Cam went through. The girls stared at the untouched food, then to each other.

    "What was that?" Cat asked, as if her roommate had any insight. The guys were normally starving after practice and had two lunches, regardless of whether or not practice went well. But now their food remained completely untouched, and they went away in the direction of the dorms.

    "They weren''t like this yesterday," Hannah said, shaking her head. Cat almost agreed, but stopped herself. Agreeing would have meant she had to confirm that she saw Peter yesterday, and admit he was tutoring her. Yeah. Not happening.

    The two ate lunch in silent confusion, theorizing different reasons as to why both of them would be mad. A bad practice didn''t seem like enough. Cam would maybe be frustrated at it for a while, but he wouldn''t let food go wasted. Their coach had them on an extra thousand calories to balance out the increased practice schedule, and they had no issue scarfing down even more food to match.

    As Hannah started to clean up her bowl, Cat hesitated in front of the untouched sandwich and pizza.

    "We should probably still make sure they get those," she said absent-mindedly. Hannah hesitated. "No use wasting food just because they''re in a bad mood."

    "Oh! That''s thoughtful of you."

    "What? No, I mean--can''t afford to be wasteful¡­." Cat had already grabbed a pile of napkins by the time Hannah returned with extra plates to place upside-down on the food. Hopefully it was enough to just set on the floor in front of their dorm. Worse came to worst, some random guy would snatch up the food and eat it. But at least it wouldn''t just go to a landfill.

    "I bet something happened at practice," Hannah decided once the girls made their way to Casa del Sol. "Like I bet someone got hurt or someone said something stupid about someone else''s mom or something." Cat hesitated as they approached the elevator. Her stomach turned to ice.

    "Do you...do you think it maybe has something to do with¡­?" She couldn''t bring herself to say his name. Hannah gasped.

    "No! No, they''d tell us, wouldn''t they?" she insisted. "I''m sure it''s nothing that bad." When they got inside the elevator, Hannah pressed for the third floor, but Cat pressed for the second.

    "Would you mind--?" She handed off Cameron''s sandwich to her roommate, her other hand white-knuckling the strap of her bookbag. Hannah took the extra plate on top of Peter''s pizza. Cat continued, "I just--I don''t want to deal with--"

    "No problem," her roommate said. "I''ll try to get to the bottom of it so I can come back to you and tell you it was nothing." They exchanged nervous smiles. "Maybe we can all go out or something, get them in better moods." Despite the immediate urge to say no, Cat shrugged and stepped out of the elevator doors.

    "Thanks, Hannah."

    <hr>

    Cat somehow managed to get a little bit of homework done while she waited for her date. Peter gave her practice problems to try out; after a full two-minute rant about how the professor was an idiot for not at least encouraging practice problems, Cat reluctantly agreed to add "practicing math" to her To Do list. She felt a little stupid, sitting at her desk and giving herself extra work--worse, letting Peter give her extra work--but if it got her out of the hole she dug herself in, well...that was probably for the best.

    Sunset came and went before Hannah returned to the dorm.

    "Well," Hannah said as she threw her bag down, "No luck in convincing the guys to go out. But did you want to do something? Or--wait. It''s Wednesday. You''re busy¡­." She squinted, trying to remember. "You have work! Why are you here?"

    "Jeffrey''s making up for his shift from Sunday," Cat answered without missing a beat.

    "Oh! Well we can go see a movie or something!"

    "Um, maybe next time."

    "Ugh, fine. No one wants to hang out with me today."

    "It''s not that--"

    "I was kind of joking. I''ve got a midterm coming up anyway that I should prepare for. Maybe I''ll see if my study group is up for a last-minute sesh." Hannah plopped on her bed, with her shoes still on, much to Cat''s disgust, and started texting away at her phone. But, an hour later, when Cat was starting to get nervous about the time, she announced she did have a quick study session with her group and that she''d be back in a couple of hours.

    "Okay," Cat said, trying not to sound relieved, "I''ll be here."

    "Do you want to grab dinner really quick?" she asked, hesitating at the door. "I hate to ditch you for dinner."

    "Oh, nah, I''m good. I''ve got something I bought earlier so I could keep studying," Cat said. She wasn''t totally lying. She did buy a sandwich earlier so that she and Pumpkin could have a "dinner and a movie" thing. They agreed to get the same thing so it was more like a "real date" without it being...real.

    She kept glancing to her phone for the time. Half hour¡­.

    "Alright, well, see you in a couple hours."

    "Okay, see you." And right when Hannah shut the door, Cat flipped open her dinosaur-of-a-laptop to let it start booting up. It usually took a long time, and she didn''t want to be late.

    Nothing got done the entire time she waited for her computer. Her phone said that it only took ten minutes to show her desktop this time, but she''d checked on the progress maybe twenty times. She sat there, bouncing her legs, sitting on her hands to strop herself from button-mashing her keyboard in a stupid attempt to get it to load even faster. Eventually, she was able to click on the internet icon and type in the address to the agreed site. Pumpkin sent her a code to get into "their private room" earlier, and she typed that in. With how slowly everything else went with her computer, she definitely thought it would take longer to load, but it popped up almost instantly.

    The right side was a long, skinny chat log that only read, InsultCatapult has joined the session. The rest of the screen was a gray sad face with text indicating they had to hook up a Netflix account to watch anything. Cat nervously watched the clock. Eighteen minutes until their date was scheduled to start. Well, she could maybe get another couple problems down, now that she was all set up, before Pumpkin arrived. But right when she opened her giant book again, her browser blipped.

    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    PumpkinKing has joined the session. The grey screen flickered to the login screen, where Pumpkin selected the only profile, a picture of a robot with the name ME over it. Original.

    Hi :), Cat typed immediately. If the butterflies in her stomach flew any faster, she''d levitate right off her chair.

    Hi :) You''re early.

    So are you.

    Lol I''ve been looking forward to this all day.

    Me too, Cat agreed. God, she felt so stupid, smiling at her screen. You''d think I''d be used to this feeling by now, she thought to herself. After a few flirty comments, Pumpkin finally navigated to his Favorites List. She tried to get a better look of the other titles in his selection, but he clicked too fast and she couldn''t see anything she recognized.

    So, he started, the three dots indicating he was continuing animating, I was thinking maybe for my pick, we could watch this documentary on the wonders of the human body. We can watch the trailer and you could tell me if you''re okay with it or not? He hovered over the title after Cat agreed.

    She would have agreed even if it didn''t look cool, but the trailer showed this group of scientists claiming to show how everyday humans were superheroes. They visited a guy that could beatbox, and showed through medical science how it was possible and impressive. They visited a guy that had been struck by lightning twice and won the lottery, just to prove that he was still functioning totally fine.

    It looks really cool to me, Cat said when it was over. I''m curious. She''d never been much into medicine, but Pumpkin''s other suggested titles were also biology-related. Before he could finish his thought, she asked, Are you a bio major? I can''t believe I never asked. He erased his reply and started again.

    I''m not, but I just like it a lot. I''ve been toying with the idea of maybe going into physical therapy.

    Really?

    Yeah, sports medicine sort of stuff. Been watching a lot of these documentaries, and taking a couple classes that sort of look into it this year. Not sold on the idea, but it''s one of my choices.

    Cat smirked. So you''d be a doctor, then?

    Lol maybe. Maybe not. What about you? Does this sort of thing usually interest you? He was checking to see if she was lying or not.

    Never gave it much thought, honestly. My mom''s really into the home remedies, so as a kid, rather than going to the doctor or anything, I slept with onions and garlic in my socks when I got sick.

    That''s one way to warn me that you smell bad. Cat laughed out loud. Pumpkin had more to say. That actually works, though. Not as much as your mom probably hopes, but the onions and the garlic help boost the immune system. And if they''re potent enough, might help with symptoms of a cold like a stuffy nose.

    So you''ve heard of that remedy before, then?

    Pumpkin continued, I went to the doctor as a kid. But I did have some family that when visiting, would tease me and say to get my socks ready. Never actually did it, though.

    It took a full half hour of chatting before they remembered that they intended to watch a movie, and even during the movie, Cat hardly paid any attention to what was happening on the screen, because she kept anticipating Pumpkin''s responses and fun facts that he had to add to the narration.

    She could still hear everything, but it was admittedly a bit difficult to pay attention. She''d type a response, and wait impatiently for the three dots to be replaced with his. The hour and a half documentary went by too quickly, even with a short pause for them to grab their sandwiches and complain to each other about how the convenience store food never had enough seasoning or sauce. The documentary had been over for maybe ten minutes before a text from Hannah startled her out of her thoughts.

    Heading home. Want ice cream? Got a craving. Ooo¡­. Asking for something would delay her at least another minute, so she could continue talking to Pumpkin without having to answer to Hannah about anything.

    Something with coffee in it, she typed back, smiling. She swapped to her chat with PumpkinKing. Guess who''s getting mocha ice cream for dessert. He responded with a surprised emoji, then a crying one.

    iNot me?

    Laughing, Cat continued, Me! My roommate is on her way back...so¡­ A few seconds passed by before Pumpkin found a reply.

    So now is the time I find out if you kiss on the first date? Cat exploded into a fit of giggles, then replied with a kissy emoji.

    Can we do this again? she asked instead. This was really fun.

    You free next week?

    Thursday? She did possibly have Real Tutoring with Peter next week, but that was closer to dinnertime. She could do something after.

    We could do a dessert version of this. Cat hardly had time to read his response before more came flooding in. Omg, sorry--that--that was creepy. I just meant we should eat ice cream next time instead of sandwiches.

    Lmao so after dinner, then? Maybe 8? She could sneak away to the library, claim she was studying, to avoid having to answer to Hannah.

    Sounds like a date to me :) He punctuated even more with a kissy emoji, so she responded in kind.

    I''ll tty tomorrow. Gunna catch up with my roomie and go to bed.

    Going to gossip about me?

    If I told her I was semi-dating a stranger online, she would literally call my parents to warn them that I''m being catfished.

    Pumpkin replied, Pumpkin fished? King fished? King Fisher? That''s a fish, isn''t it?

    That''s a bird.

    Oh yeah. They eat fish.

    No more stalling, Cat typed, though she desperately wished she would have more time. Night night :)

    Tty tomorrow <3

    Cat allowed herself one little screech of excitement before she closed her laptop and giggled to herself. She was acting like an idiot, like a pre-teen. But it was so nice, after an awful winter break, to finally feel something that made her bubbly and excited, that made her feel like the oxygen in the room was pure helium. And, if she was by herself, no one could make fun of her for it. So for a full minute, Cat stood out of her chair and let herself dance, just a tiny bit, until she heard Hannah''s jingling keys in the door. She immediately sat down in her chair, heart in her throat.

    "Hey!" Hannah called. "Ice cream delivery!" And right as Cat turned around, she held out her hands to catch the ice cream bar.

    "Thank you!"

    "Oh, are you out of breath?" Hannah noticed as she shut the door. Cat seized for a fraction of a second.

    "No--uh, you just startled me, is all."

    "Sorry." They shared a laugh, and Hannah strode in to sit on Cat''s bed to catch up. She hesitated though, as she opened the wrapping to her ice cream. "Is that--have you been on the same page for two and a half hours?" What? Cat glanced to her pre-calc book and her homework, then back to Hannah. "I remember thinking that picture of a duck was weird before I left. Are you struggling that much?" Well. What would she prefer, Hannah think she was an idiot at academics, or just socially?

    "I, um, I took a break and caught up some more with that friend," she finally admitted.

    "Oh?" Her slow smile made Cat''s cheeks burn.

    "Yeah."

    "What''d you do? Did you remember to eat dinner?"

    "Mmhmm. We just...watched Netflix. He shared his screen."

    "He? Is this that guy from Talkative? Did you just have a date?" Her ice cream long forgotten, Hannah rushed to her feet and let out the most obnoxious screech. "Oh my God, Cat, are you dating again?"

    "I--" But before she could fully answer, Hannah rushed forward to force Cat into a seated hug. If her wrapper wasn''t still on her ice cream, she would have protested more, but Hannah squeezed around her shoulders and let out another screech, this time right in her ear. Cat flinched.

    "You''re doing so well!" That was not the reaction she thought she''d get.

    "What?"

    Hannah pulled away, beaming. "You''re opening up so much you even had a kind-of date! I mean, it''s not a real date, but that''s so cute! It''s such a big step!" The nerves that originally occupied Cat''s stomach disappeared. Now she was a little uneasy. Was this a "big" step? Was this too fast? It didn''t feel too fast when she was talking to him. And he respected her boundaries so easily, didn''t even complain. He just took her excuse not to meet at face-value. She pursed her lips as Hannah retreated to her ice cream.

    "What?" she asked upon seeing Cat''s expression.

    "I''m--is it a big step? Is this too much too fast? ''Cause what if he turns out to be--"

    "''Turns out to be...''?" Hannah echoed, brow raised. "Just Google him."

    Cat hesitated, lifting a shoulder for the tiniest shrug. "I don''t know his name." All of the excitement from Hannah''s face disappeared, and she smacked herself in the forehead with her wrapped ice cream.

    "I take it back. Everything I said. You still don''t know this guy''s name?" Cat didn''t respond. "And you had this little date thing with him? How come he''s not super suspicious of you?" Well, that was a little closer to the reaction she was expecting originally.

    "I just--he asked, but I said I didn''t want to risk anything." And she knew he was going to ask again. Why wouldn''t he? Hannah rolled her eyes, shook her head, and finally started to dig into her ice cream.

    "Y''all are freaks. When people date online, it''s usually after they know each other''s name and can Google and Facebook stalk and all that. Not knowing his name is really dangerous." She didn''t think of that.

    "But," Cat started, uncertain, "how? He doesn''t know mine."

    "Well...I guess if it''s even, it''s not so bad."

    "It''s just a nickname. I know plenty else."

    "What''s his major?" Time for the interrogation.

    "He''s thinking of being a physical therapist," she answered, silently relieved she thought to ask, finally.

    "How old is he?"

    "Twenty-three, but his birthday is in August."

    "And you don''t know his name?" Hannah questioned again. Cat could almost imagine a detective hat appearing on top of her roommate''s head. This quiz she could ace, no problem.

    "I don''t know his name, but I know what he''s most scared of, I know all about his past relationships, everything he ever dreamed of as a kid." If it was one thing about quizzes and Cat, it was that she was very used to acing them. Even after this disaster of a school year.

    Hannah squinted at her before she asked, "What''s his biggest fear?"

    "Not being good enough," she answered without missing a beat. Hannah''s brows shot up.

    "Oh. I was expecting, like, snakes or something¡­." Her roommate hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. "Alright. Well, you''re a big girl." Cat nodded to her, and glanced down to her ice cream to start unwrapping it.

    "Yeah. Nothing nefarious yet." Though Cat''s tone took a more worried edge. Hannah just smiled at her.

    "I guess if it feels okay, it is okay." The girls hesitated. "I mean, did you ever get...a bad feeling?" Even though breaching the topic of Nate was the exact opposite of what Hannah was supposed to do in exchange for knowing about the situation at all, Cat relented.

    "I wasn''t comfortable, if that''s what you mean. I didn''t know he was going to¡­."

    "I mean, yeah. But that comfort is an important thing. It''s like, if you weren''t comfortable or whatever with this dude from Talkative, you should pay attention to it." Good point. Cat sighed.

    "I--haven''t," she said, shrugging. "I guess with--this didn''t start off all flirty or anything. We were kind of just trolling. And I didn''t--I didn''t even think I felt this way until I took a break from the app. But when I came back, I don''t know." Who started it, anyway? "It doesn''t feel forced or anything."

    "Well¡­." Hannah finally gave her a genuine smile. "Not all guys are monsters. Just enough to make us cautious, and if he gets it, I guess that''s a good thing." She finally started to dig into her ice cream, satisfied with the amount of information Cat was willing to spill. "So it was a good date, then?" Despite herself, her cheeks started to burn, and Hannah''s laughter only made it worse. "Oo-ooo-ooh!"

 Chapter 44

    Cat found herself lamenting about how not every person was as successful at compartmentalizing as PumpkinKing. Peter and Cam continued being pissy and grumpy, even through the group chat, even when Kelsey admitted she had the worst flu ever. They weren¡¯t even sympathetic. They just answered with one or two words. The girls eventually switched to a different text chat, their patience running thin. Hannah wasn¡¯t able to truly find anything about why they were being terrible, either. But she reassured Kelsey and Cat she would get to the bottom of it eventually. She had at least uncovered that Cam and Peter weren¡¯t fighting, just both equally sour about something. Cat decided not to think about it that much. Figuring out what made Peter mad was just a matter of throwing a dart at a random topic; figuring out what made him mad was a waste of time. Maybe someone sneezed on him when he was a baby or something. The only concern was Cam¡¯s uncharacteristic lingering irritation...but Hannah would deal with that.

    There were other things to worry about...like an upcoming virtual date.

    I have a question, Cat decided to ask Pumpkin on Thursday night before bed.

    ?

    Why are you so cool with not meeting in person? Maybe Hannah¡¯s guesses were right, and he had Leprosy or was allergic to the sun. But Pumpkin replied without hesitation.

    ¡¯Cause it¡¯s not that big of a deal. Now Cat replied with a question mark. I¡¯d rather talk to you forever and not know your name than not talk to you again. Plus, it¡¯s not like the world is safe or anything. ¡°Talk to you forever.¡± The thought made Cat¡¯s cheeks burn.

    It¡¯s just weird you¡¯re cool with it, she typed back.

    I¡¯ve known enough people to know not everyone is who they say they are. That was a charged response.

    What do you mean?

    Friends of mine have been hurt just by expecting others to be decent. So this isn¡¯t a big deal. His answer didn¡¯t seem complete, but it wasn¡¯t proper to pry. I know it¡¯s a lot riskier for girls. Guys are creeps. It was a relief for him to acknowledge her fears, though. His answers satisfied her enough to repeat to Hannah when she finally returned from class.

    ¡°Hey, Cat,¡± Hannah asked after she changed and got ready for bed. ¡°If you end up not ever wanting to meet this guy, can I have him?¡±

    ¡°Pfff.¡± She didn¡¯t even justify that with a real response. As if she¡¯d let someone as good as him get away like that. Just because she was moving slow didn¡¯t mean she didn¡¯t want to move at all.

    ¡°Oh!¡± And, as if someone flipped a switch, Hannah animated again, pointing to her roommate as she jumped on her own bed. ¡°I found out, before I got here, why Peter and Cam are so pissy.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡± Cat sat up, now, her curiosity getting the better of her. ¡°Did someone piss in their Cheerios or something?¡±

    ¡°They got benched from water polo until further notice.¡± Hannah covered her mouth with her hands, as if the words she just said were too much for one sentence.

    "What?" Cat¡¯s phone fell out of her lap when she gasped. ¡°What for?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know everything, but they¡¯re not the only ones,¡± her roommate continued, but her excitement dwindled. This wasn¡¯t good. Sweat started gathering at Cat¡¯s hairline before Hannah even said anything more, as if she could predict what was going to be said. ¡°Nate, too. Thomas said they all tried to get into a fight. Cam said something, Nate retaliated, and you know Peter--¡± She gestured with her hand, but Cat shrugged; she was getting lightheaded. ¡°Oh, well, you mess with Cam, you get Peter twice as bad. Nate started getting up in Cam¡¯s face, so Peter pushed him away, and apparently Nate pushed him back, and Cam went to jump in when they started to get at it, but then Thomas was there and just stopped it right there.¡± The girls sat on their respective beds, blinking at each other, for a full minute before Cat finally thought she might as well voice her concerns, her voice bubbling over with nerves.

    ¡°What, do you think it was...about¡­?¡± She didn¡¯t normally speak that high, but her throat was too tight. Hannah bit her lip and shrugged.

    ¡°I think...that¡¯s a fair guess....¡± And Thomas had no idea. The knots in her stomach didn¡¯t stop wrestling about until she managed to fall asleep.

    <hr>

    Friday morning, the stomach cramps only intensified as she waited for her very first therapy appointment. Naomi was so nice from before, but now she had to see a Dr. Lisa Harvey--what if she wasn¡¯t as nice? What if she diagnosed her with Chronic Idiot Syndrome or something? It didn¡¯t help that she knew she had to explain what brought her here in the first place. And even thinking about it, the way it lingered in her head from what she discovered last night--if she was this affected by an adjacent event that had nothing to do with her, would she even be able to speak?

    Opening that up...and with the possibility of this awful secret spreading into everyone else¡¯s life, tainting everything¡­. Would it even be a secret anymore? Did she have to wear this experience on her sleeve for everyone to see?

    Her spiraling worries were interrupted by a text alert from Cam.

    Dont get mad but we need to talk about the stuff u dont want to talk about. Like now.

    But before she could even think to reply, her name was called. Walking behind the woman hardly registered. A high-pitched screech completely took over her senses, numbed her limbs and left everything hazy and white. Was this really happening?

    Dr. Harvey had a soft voice, but none of her words got through. Cat tried to pay attention, but only managed to nod ever-so-slightly to whatever the doctor said. Her fingers went numb. Her arms tingled. When did she sit down? This room was bright and cheerful, but so blurry around the edges. Dr. Harvey¡¯s face kept swirling and swirling, her dark curls expanding and contracting until finally they speckled all of Cat¡¯s vision.

    ¡°...breathing,¡± was all that she heard. Breathing¡­. One, two, three, four. Hold, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four. In, two, three, four. It wasn¡¯t in Peter¡¯s voice this time, but her body still obeyed, sucking in air through her nose and exhaling through her mouth. Pins and needles pricked her limbs, waking them from a long slumber. Eventually, Cat realized she had her eyes shut tightly, and every single muscle in her body was clenched as if it would protect her from the memories that threatened the edge of her consciousness.

    She slowly let herself return to reality, to the doctor that sat beside her. Her dark hand rubbed Cat¡¯s shoulder gently in time with her instructions. Though Cat now could consciously try to relax herself, she now trembled like a leaf. All it took was the idea of talking about what happened, and she was reduced to a shivering mess. This thought, at least, sparked something inside her chest.

    ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have to feel like this,¡± Cat blurted after a deep breath. Her hands reached up to wipe at her cheeks, and the salty residue of tears only made her grit her teeth. ¡°I wasn¡¯t like this before!¡± Dr. Harvey¡¯s hand disappeared, replaced with a question too quiet to hear. But Cat knew what she was asking.

    If it weren¡¯t for the twinge of familiar anger, she might not have said anything. But the urge to scream fueled her to recount the events of last year, of that stupid party that had too much of an effect on how she saw herself. As Cat caught up to the most recent events, to the point where Hannah told her about why Cam and Peter may have been benched from water polo, her phone vibrated with Cam¡¯s name flashing on the screen. He¡¯d been calling her, texting her, and she somehow managed to shove the realization away until now.

    ¡°Is that important?¡± Dr. Harvey asked now that Cat glanced at her phone.

    ¡°It¡¯s bad news,¡± Cat answered her before swiping the notification away. She was physically exhausted, her limbs heavy, her eyes tired and struggling to stay open. ¡°It¡¯s--it¡¯s my friend telling me he got in trouble for defending me. He got benched in water polo for arguing with...him.¡± She sniffled, and went to swipe away another, but hesitated. This was a text.

    Peter¡¯s getting sent to tribunal.

    What?

    Dr. Harvey said something that Cat didn¡¯t quite hear. The shock at the text was the only thing that kept her from sobbing again.

    ¡°I--¡± The screen vibrated in her hand. Another text. Idk if I¡¯m getting sent yet. Thomas is pissed. Thomas was pissed? Thomas? He had no idea what even happened! ¡°What a fucking idiot,¡± she muttered to herself. ¡°Stupid--he--¡± Cat looked up to Dr. Harvey, her cheeks burning. ¡°The captain of the water polo team is sending them to Tribunal for this. He doesn¡¯t even know anything!¡± Dr. Harvey¡¯s look of sympathy didn¡¯t calm her down. ¡°If he had any idea, he¡¯d--¡± He¡¯d what?

    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

    ¡°Any idea¡­?¡± Dr. Harvey interrupted with a look of curiosity. ¡°That your friend¡­?¡± She gestured with her hand, urging Cat to finish her sentence.

    ¡°I--I don¡¯t even know,¡± she whispered. ¡°I don¡¯t even know if he¡¯d believe me.¡± The doctor shifted in her seat. Her pen tapped her clipboard as she waited for Cat to say something else. But she remained silent.

    Dr. Harvey prompted, ¡°Are you afraid he¡¯d find out, or that he wouldn¡¯t believe you if you told him?¡± The question stuck to Cat¡¯s mind like glue. Was this what she was doing? Hiding this from everyone, so that if they didn¡¯t believe her, she wouldn¡¯t have to deal with the disappointment? If she never said anything, she didn¡¯t have to admit it ever happened out loud. She¡¯d never have to face her dad, to watch him stare at her like she failed him. She¡¯d become another statistic. He thought she was smarter than that. But she went and let herself¡­.

    ¡°Why would he believe me?¡± Her voice sounded pathetic. Like she¡¯d given up. ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t he--why wouldn¡¯t he just think it¡¯s my fault?¡± Did she really say that? How could she call herself a feminist if she kept thinking like this?

    ¡°Why would he think it¡¯s your fault? You are the victim.¡± The doctor took a beat of silence to let the words sink in. For the briefest moment, the words remained. ¡°You don¡¯t have to tell anyone anything. You don¡¯t have to press charges, you don¡¯t have to tell your family or friends. But you have to at least acknowledge it, or this experience could take over your life. I get a feeling it already has.¡±

    ¡°I--I don¡¯t want to¡­.¡± She sounded like a child, sinking into the plush armchair like this.

    ¡°Dislocated shoulders don¡¯t heal unless you set them,¡± said Dr. Harvey. ¡°But they do heal, once you do.¡± The doctor pursed her lips together and leaned forward a bit, as if encouraging Cat to do the same. ¡°What do you think the first step to healing might look like?¡±

    After a heavy sigh, Cat shut her eyes. No more tears fell, but her sadness branched through to her shaking limbs, slow and tingling. She had to tell Thomas. She couldn¡¯t let this...poison spread any further. Tribunal? What would that mean for everything else--for their scholarships, for school?

    ¡°I need to talk to Thomas,¡± she admitted aloud. Dr. Harvey shifted in her seat.

    ¡°Is that a step for your healing, or is that a step for mitigating your friends¡¯ troubles?¡± Oh. Hm. Cat shrugged. That¡¯s why she was here, wasn¡¯t it? To figure out how to get better? The doctor continued, ¡°We can outline a plan next time. I¡¯m afraid we¡¯re at a stopping point now.¡± The doctor reached a hand to her desk for an agenda. ¡°But I think a great thing for now, at least until we can meet again, would be compassion for yourself. You went through something scary, it¡¯s okay to be scared. It¡¯s completely normal.¡± Dr. Harvey¡¯s words were said in passing, but throughout the entire process of scheduling another appointment for next week, the words echoed in Cat¡¯s head, over and over again. Why had that thought never occurred to her before?

    <hr>

    A short nap after therapy did nothing to make her feel any more rested. Everything hurt, pulsated from being tense for so long. It was like she did a triathlon without any of the added benefit of eventually getting stronger for it. But just for today, she was able to put the aches to the back of her mind while she focused on something else. Something a little more pressing.

    She never replied to Cam; she didn¡¯t know what to say. ¡°Hey, Cam, try not to worry about it, I¡¯m gunna go tell Thomas everything and hope he believes me so you don¡¯t get kicked out of school¡±? Didn¡¯t exactly roll off the tongue.

    It was a half hour before water polo was expected to start, and Cat made her way down to the pool in her workout clothes, just in case Peter or Cam showed up while she was talking to Thomas. Needed a good excuse to just run away suddenly, if they decided to head to practice early. But, seriously, who would want to swim in muggy, cold weather like this? She didn¡¯t even want to change out of her sweatshirt, let alone pretend she was exercising.

    God granted her a boon for her efforts: right as Cat headed down the hill to pass by the locker rooms, Thomas stepped out, towel thrown over his shoulder, hair cap in hand. Despite the feeling of all the air in her throat escaping, she called his name, gentle, but loud enough for him to hear. He spun around, and upon looking at her, his eyes widened. Oh, God. What were people saying if she got that reaction?

    ¡°Can--can I talk to you for a minute? It will be really quick,¡± she said as she finished making her way down the hill. Thomas looked over his shoulder, as if he was caught doing something wrong. He tensed when she finally got to him, adjusted his towel so that it covered his bare chest completely. It would have hurt less if he just called her disgusting and got on with his life.

    ¡°Um--¡± What could Nate have said to make her so repulsive?

    ¡°Come here,¡± she interrupted, urging him to at least step out of the path of the door to the locker rooms. He was so slow and hesitant. Nate had months to drag her name through the mud¡­. She¡¯d hoped that crying earlier would mean that she could get through this without showing any weakness...but already, her eyes burned, her hands shook.

    Thomas crossed his arms, but stepped to the side, silent, waiting for Cat to speak. But just based on how his feet were pointing as far away from her as possible, she could tell this might not work out so well.

    ¡°I--¡± Cat choked on her words already, but sucked in a breath. ¡°Please don¡¯t tell anyone what I¡¯m telling you. I¡¯m only saying something because I heard you want to send Peter and Cam to Tribunal--but you should know everything first.¡±

    Thomas cocked his head to the side, squinting. ¡°How did you hear about¡­?¡±

    ¡°S-so you remember that party last year? The water polo party?¡± It was so hard to look up at his face. Her eyes physically hurt, but when she glanced up to him, it seemed to soften his edges just a little.

    ¡°The one I hosted?¡± Blood drained from her face. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°You--¡± Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, booming louder than his reply. ¡°You¡¯re roommates--you¡¯re roommates with Nate.¡± Thomas adjusted his weight, frowning.

    ¡°Mmhmm.¡±

    ¡°Oh, God¡­.¡± There was no way this was going to work. He jabbed a thumb behind himself, indicating to the pool.

    ¡°I have some preparations to make, so¡­.¡±

    Somehow, through her shaking, Cat sucked in a breath to speak. ¡°I only had two beers that night.¡± She now shut her eyes and clenched her fists. Speaking these words, now, to a virtual stranger, felt like clawing through a thick wall of clay. ¡°A-a-a-and I don¡¯t remember it.¡± Maybe that was all she had to say. But when she opened her eyes and let a tear spill onto her cheek, Thomas only looked like he was waiting for her to continue. But the wall was too thick. Her lips wouldn¡¯t part.

    ¡°What are you...are you implying something?¡± Thomas prompted finally. Cat nodded. He pursed his lips and continued to survey his surroundings, but eventually regarded her again. ¡°What does this have to do with...everything else?¡± Seriously? Was he that stupid? Couldn¡¯t put two and two together? Peter and Georgia saw her with Nate for two seconds and they could figure it out.

    Cat grit her teeth and leaned into the frustration of having to explain herself. At least she could stand a little taller when she wanted to shake some sense into him. ¡°Nate got me my second beer after I turned him down.¡± Now Thomas¡¯ expression turned to something darker, his jaw clenched. His defensiveness intensified her trembling; suddenly, she had more energy to get through this.

    ¡°If you¡¯re suggesting--¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not suggesting anything,¡± she interrupted sharply. ¡°I only got out of that party because Peter and Georgia carried me when I was too drugged out of my mind to walk myself.¡± Before Thomas could even register what she said, Cat took a step forward and fully stared into his eyes, desperate, her lips curled in disgust. ¡°Georgia found me when Nate was trying to--¡± Her mouth clamped shut, but she pried it open anyway while she had his undivided attention. ¡°He was taking me to his--¡± When another tear fell down her cheek, Thomas raised a hand to indicate she didn¡¯t have to say anything else.

    ¡°What you¡¯re saying¡­.¡± Oh, come on. ¡°That¡¯s a serious accusation¡­.¡± Cat fought the urge to sock him in the jaw.

    ¡°Why would I lie about this?¡±

    He shrugged. ¡°To protect your friends--¡± The sound that came out of her mouth did not sound human--Thomas actually took a step back, eyes wide.

    ¡°And why would Cam and Peter--Peter--of all people, feel the need to defend me so strongly, huh? If I was lying, why would they get into it in the first place?¡± His gaze dropped to the floor, but he kept his arms crossed. Cat released her stare at him, confident that he at least didn¡¯t fully believe Nate¡¯s version of the tale. ¡°Don¡¯t send them to Tribunal for this.¡±

    Thomas hesitated. ¡°I don¡¯t--I already submitted my request to the Coach¡­.¡±

    ¡°So you¡¯re cool with living with a rapist, then?¡± Her words shocked Thomas into looking at her again. ¡°You¡¯re cool with defending Nate and letting Peter and Cam get hung out to--¡±

    ¡°Wait--did Nate actually¡­? Or did he just drug you?¡± If someone else¡¯s future wasn¡¯t on the line for anything she said, Cat may have actually committed murder. The moment he said it, he seemed to regret it, but she was already on fire from his response.

    ¡°What kind of person keeps date rape drugs at his house, Thomas? Unless they¡¯re yours?¡±

    ¡°No--!¡±

    ¡°Get your head out of your ass, then!¡± she shouted. ¡°You think people just try something like that once to see if it¡¯s for them? Jesus Christ!¡± She wasn¡¯t aware of it, but somewhere while she shouted at him, she stepped closer for every step back he took. ¡°Are you going to keep letting him get away with this?¡±

    ¡°I--I--I don¡¯t know--¡± Thomas flung his arms out, seemingly defeated. ¡°I don¡¯t know what I can do! I mean--¡±

    ¡°The very least you can do is not punish the people protecting me!¡± When did she suddenly feel so confident? Why did she suddenly know, from the depths of her core, that Thomas was going to go to the coach and rescind his request for Tribunal? As her gaze thawed him from freezing in place, Cat removed her target from him and gave him several steps of space. He was silent, not looking at her, but instead wrestling with these new demons in his mind. He didn¡¯t seem to have a response, and she¡¯d spent all the rest of her energy by yelling at him. Before she could turn around and walk up the hill, Thomas asked, ¡°Is this why you don¡¯t run anymore?¡±

    ¡°What?¡± She turned back to him, thoroughly confused.

    ¡°You used to run last semester. We¡¯d see you every Thursday while we practiced.¡± What in the world? Cat could only stare at him. ¡°That was you, right?¡±

    ¡°I--yeah--how--?¡± She glanced from the track to the pool. There was a good enough distance that someone would have to actively look for her to notice she was one running. Thomas managed a small laugh.

    ¡°Cam pointed you out at the beginning of the year, and you were always so punctual, so it¡¯d be like--Cat¡¯s here, time to start practice. Oh, Cat¡¯s done running, time to switch sides.¡± Despite the drying tears on her cheeks, the feeling that she would collapse any minute, Cat actually laughed.

    ¡°I, um, don¡¯t have that class this semester¡­.¡± Though her smile faded when she realized why she never kept up her goal of continuing. ¡°But...I¡¯ve been¡­.¡± She blinked back another tear. ¡°It¡¯s been a tough year.¡± And that was all she was willing to say on the matter.

 Chapter 45

    Hannah and her shower caddy were gone from the dorm by the time Cat returned. Their regularly scheduled lunch was coming up as soon as water polo was done, but all she could bring herself to do was lay down on her bed and breathe. Why was this so exhausting? She used to work and go to school every single day for years, never had a day off to sleep in or take a nap, and it was all fine. Even most of last semester, she could handle anything.

    But now an early morning appointment and a conversation rendered her bedridden. At least there was that flu that Kelsey had, Cat thought to herself when Hannah returned from her shower.

    ¡°I think I¡¯m coming down with something,¡± she lied. Her roommate hesitated as she played with her hair in the mirror, glancing back through the mirror.

    ¡°Are you getting what Kelsey got?¡± She shrugged. ¡°Aw, come on! Kelsey¡¯s finally better so we can all get lunch together!¡±

    ¡°Send my best,¡± Cat muttered as she draped a pillow over her head. Hannah sighed dramatically, but left her alone until she practically force-fed Cat soup for dinner.

    Hannah had left to go to the movies with some girl she met on Tinder that evening, right when Cat felt well enough to actually do something other than sit in bed and read. Though she was a little behind on reading writing her essays. And she had more practice problems for pre-calc¡­.

    <hr>

    The weekend flew by fast enough for Cat to forget her conversation with Thomas and why she was exhausted in the first place. She wasn¡¯t forced to face it until her shift started Monday night at Jittery Joes, when maybe about ten minutes into her shift, Cam strode in with a giant smile on his face. She was pouring milk into someone¡¯s cup with a raised brow, and overfilled it when he surprised her by walking to the front of the line.

    ¡°Cam,¡± she started, shaking her head, ¡°you have to wait just like everyone else. I can¡¯t play favorites just because we¡¯re friends--¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not ordering,¡± he said quickly. Upon further inspection, his clothes seemed a little damp, his hair still dripping.

    ¡°Late practice?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, it was a great practice.¡±

    ¡°I said--¡±

    ¡°I just wanted to say, I¡¯m proud of you.¡± Cat set the jug of milk down a little too hard, squinting. She blindly reached for the cap to screw on, and her friend tapped the top of the machine she worked at to make sure he had her full attention. ¡°No one said anything, but I know. And I¡¯m proud of you.¡± She might have been failing her math class at the moment, but she could put two and two together. Cat¡¯s eyes widened.

    ¡°Um--¡±

    ¡°Really. You¡¯ve come so far so fast. You¡¯re really kicking this PTSD thing¡¯s ass!¡± When Cam said this, Jeffrey shot her a quizzical look as he punched some numbers into the register.

    Cat didn¡¯t return any enthusaism, glaring, instead, and spoke over the dings of the transaction. ¡°Thanks, Cam. Maybe China didn¡¯t hear you, though.¡±

    ¡°Oh--sorry. Just excited. Haven¡¯t seen you yet today, but everything cleared out really well. I wanted to tell you.¡± After a quick glance of apology to her coworker, Cat left the latte for him to finish and scooted away to the far side of the counter, where Cam followed her like a bouncing little kid.

    She crossed her arms. ¡°What do you mean?¡± she whispered.

    ¡°I mean that we had a great practice today, because we finally got to play at all. Peter and I were talking about it--¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t tell him,¡± she blurted before he could finish. Cam was frozen in place for a moment, then looked behind his shoulder for a minute.

    ¡°Um, right, yeah, no...didn¡¯t...do any of that.¡± He cleared his throat in the most convincing way. ¡°Anyway, Nate¡¯s not gone yet, ¡®cause he¡¯s still finishing out the month, but he¡¯s dropping out because he can¡¯t afford his sudden increase in rent.¡± Cat hardly had to look confused before he filled her in. ¡°Turns out that if you pay month-to-month, the landlord can raise the rent at any time! Weird, huh?¡± She didn¡¯t find that concept weird at all, because that was exactly why her family had to move three times in one year when she was in first grade, but she nodded very slowly. ¡°Even weirder--did you know Thomas¡¯ parents own half of Fraternity Row?¡± She couldn¡¯t help but let a smile start to crack.

    ¡°Thomas raised the rent on Nate so he has to leave?¡± That sounded too good to be true. So he really did believe her--

    ¡°Yes!¡± Cameron finally figured out how to whisper, when it now didn¡¯t matter that much. ¡°Great job, Kitty-Cat.¡±

    She laughed at him. ¡°¡®Great job¡¯?¡±

    ¡°Yeah! You got a little justice! Not a full victory, but if his ass is gone, that¡¯s a small one, right?¡± A sprinkle of warmth rose in her chest, and she shrugged, finally mirroring his excitement. ¡°And he knows it was you, too. Like, he didn¡¯t mention you at all this practice.¡± And, just as quickly, her smile faded.

    ¡°He what?¡± He talked about her at every practice? What the Hell?

    ¡°Yeah! So he¡¯s quiet, so now Peter and I don¡¯t have to shut him up.¡± Even though her friend still looked so pleased, she sobered a bit.

    ¡°You think maybe this might be a lesson for you to...not shut people up, too?¡± Cam looked confused, now. ¡°How--what actually got you guys in trouble? Hannah said you just pushed each other.¡±

    He pursed his lips in a way to try and look innocent, but it really didn¡¯t work. ¡°Um, yeah, no that¡¯s...that¡¯s it.¡± All she had to do was stare at him to make him squirm. ¡°I mean, like, once. A couple times.¡± A beat. ¡°A few times, and that last time, he fell more than Peter pushed, so, like...it doesn¡¯t count and we shouldn¡¯t have even gotten in trouble.¡± Cat could hardly even finish putting on a shocked expression before Cameron started to backtrack again. ¡°And, like, is it ¡®falling¡¯ if there¡¯s a wall there?¡±

    ¡°Cam!¡±

    ¡°I would argue he tripped backward more than was encouraged to fall.¡±

    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    "Cam!"

    ¡°But the point is, it¡¯s all good now!¡± He returned to his usual, sunshine expression. ¡°And you¡¯re getting back to your old strength. So everything¡¯s good!¡± And, in such a fashion that could only be described as The Most Cameron Move Ever, he put on a toothy grin and held out his arms, nodding and silently urging her to celebrate with a hug. How could she say no to that?

    She nearly tackled him over the counter when she squeezed his shoulders, and he pat her when he pulled away.

    ¡°That¡¯s highly unprofessional of you, Cat,¡± he said when she returned to her side. ¡°Just because we¡¯re friends doesn¡¯t mean you can play favorites.¡±

    Even though everything Cameron reported to her that night was the highest form of relief, nerves still prickled at the edges of her stomach. She always knew how Cam was going to react to something--that was a given. But Peter? What would he say? And when he didn¡¯t show up to lunch Wednesday night, the anticipation stretched so thin she nearly broke and asked Hannah to find out for her. But Hannah didn¡¯t seem to be aware of anything yet...so for now, Cat opted to keep that lid shut.

    <hr>

    Thursday, she was wound so tightly that she¡¯d be going forward in time if she was a clock. Her second date with PumpkinKing was tonight--but she also had tutoring with Peter right beforehand, and she¡¯d know for sure what he thought about everything she said to Thomas.

    Then, there was the slight chance that maybe Peter didn¡¯t want to talk about it. That maybe Thomas was tight-lipped and Cam was really just a King of Gossip as much as Hannah was a Master Detective. Surely, Peter would want to say something if he knew she had something to do with the changes in water polo, right?

    But throughout their appointment, Peter never mentioned anything about water polo. From the moment she got there, he hounded her on the practice problems he assigned, drilled her about the theories they talked about in class right before her tutoring appointment.

    ¡°I¡¯m spent,¡± she admitted when their hour was nearly up. It was getting late; the tutoring center was going to close in a couple hours, and she wanted to give herself a little extra time to prepare for her date. PumpkinKing couldn¡¯t see her, but she still felt the need to dress up a little more. As the minute hand ticked closer to the hour hand on the clock directly behind Peter, the butterflies in her stomach fluttered even faster. If anyone could make her feel better about everything that happened, it was PumpkinKing.

    Cat started to pack her things, shoving her new set of colored pens to the bottom of her bag before she grabbed her enourmous book.

    ¡°Cat.¡± Peter¡¯s gentle voice halted her movements. With her book halfway into her bag, her eyes shifted up to him; his tone was a unique command, rarely used but so gentle and powerful. When her gaze met his, her book slipped out of her grasp and to the bottom of her bag without her intending to let go of it. His face was soft and relaxed, but the tiniest bit of warmth tugged at the sides of his eyes. He waited for her to respond, but her breath took any words that might have appeared. The sound of her bag sliding to the floor prompted him to continue. ¡°I know--I know what you did for me.¡±

    Peter must have been able to see her pulse quicken in the veins of her neck, or the tiniest gasp she made must have tipped him off that there was no way Cat could have predicted he would bring something like this up now. Really, in the middle of the tutoring center? Where people bustled about and groaned over midterms, and one guy in the very corner started to actually cry over his English essay?

    He finally finished with, ¡°I know that you told Thomas.¡± Cat was finally able to let out a breath, slowly, controlled. If she held it much longer, her limbs might have started tingling. But they seemed to do that already, hairs standing on end.

    ¡°I--¡± He inched forward against the table, interrupting her with his words now a whisper.

    ¡°I just wanted to say thanks.¡± She watched his lips form the sounds, the way they hardly parted. ¡°I know you probably mostly did it for Cam, but still.¡± For Cam? The folds of his face didn¡¯t show any hint of a lie; it made her brows furrow. Cam was never even sent to Tribunal. She never even thought of him in the first place. She kept adding his name to everything, sure, but it was never about him.

    The knots in her stomach twisted even tighter; originally there for a separate cause of anxiety, now betrayed her for something a little more foreign, but so much more familiar. Staring at Peter like this, focused and unrelenting...was making her a little too nervous. Making her feel too jumpy, like her body might act on its own accord if she didn¡¯t breathe more.

    She still managed to try and speak. ¡°You--¡± Resolve filled her lungs. ¡°You pulled me out of a pond before I even actually knew your name.¡± She was the one that inched forward, now, even though she was normally so wary of his personal space before. ¡°And if you didn¡¯t do something when you saw me at--at the party--¡± Peter looked like he was going to say something, but she kept going: ¡°If you weren¡¯t around at either of those times, I could be dead or--¡± He flinched.

    ¡°Don¡¯t say that--¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m serious.¡± The air thickened. She tried keeping her face lax, but the weight of the moment kept her tense. Was it warm in here? It was getting warm in here. ¡°Not letting you get kicked out for protecting me is less than bare minimum of what I could do. You have nothing to thank me for.¡± He didn¡¯t seem convinced; his lips parted, as if he was about to protest, but she shook her head. ¡°Even after everything¡­.¡± But Cat¡¯s words finally failed her.

    ¡°Everything?¡± Sounds of shuffling students were muffled behind him, somehow quieter than him, faded so far out of her focus.

    Her throat tightened, but she swallowed her pride. ¡°Everything--I¡¯ve said. Even after I¡¯ve been borderline cruel to you...just to get a rise out of you¡­.¡± What was she doing? What was happening right now? Why couldn¡¯t she look away from him, or lean back to her seat, or breathe? Only the slightest crinkle of his brow came into focus; the slight indentation, the hint of a dimple beside his lips, indicating he was trying not to smile.

    ¡°Not cruel,¡± he reassured. ¡°Half of what you¡¯ve said--I can never tell if you mean it to be, but it¡¯s something I needed to hear.¡±

    ¡°You need to hear you¡¯re an asshole?¡± Even though she kept her tone quiet, to keep the bubble of privacy around them, Peter¡¯s laugh rang through, the forefront of her attention. Every other time he laughed this hard, he would throw his head back and she¡¯d watch his Adam¡¯s apple disturb the perfectly trimmed stubble on his neck, but this time, his eyes fell to the ground as he hid his grin from her. Cat fought the urge to force his chin back up so she could return to staring at his eyes. He recovered eventually, but shook his head.

    ¡°No, Cat¡­,¡± Peter said, his smile fading just slightly. ¡°I think you know what I mean.¡± Her heartbeat rose to her throat when his eyes flickered to her lips. ¡°You always know what I need.¡± And now she was distinctly aware of how he held his breath, how the invisible tug in her chest pulled her toward him just a little bit further--

    Bzzzzzzzt! Bzzzzzzt!

    Cat let out a small yelp and jumped back, her hand already covering her vibrating phone to try and shush it. But students and tutors stared at them all around the room while the thing nearly vibrated off the table. She clutched it tightly and hardly read the name of the alarm before she swiped it to silence. Five minute warning alarm...for her date.

    ¡°Oh, fuck,¡± she said to herself. Her date! Cat¡¯s breath ran away from her; her head spun as she grabbed for her bag, her vision spotted from how quickly she rose from her chair. ¡°I--I¡¯ve--a thing--¡± she said through her gasps.

    She stood behind the chair she pushed in, now, bag on her should as she finally regarded Peter. He blinked as if he just woke from a deep slumber, but a hard frown formed on his lips, and he didn¡¯t look up at her. She knew that expression. Regret.

    The ugly jab hardly reached her stomach when she said, ¡°That--that was almost a mistake.¡± She hesitated, white-knuckling the strap of her bag. Peter didn¡¯t look up to her directly, but he pursed his lips so tightly together they nearly disappeared.

    ¡°Don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about,¡± he said tightly, as if something was stuck in his throat.

    Cat stammered, ¡°D-d-don¡¯t want to make, um, make you late for...your next...yeah.¡± But the urge to run overtook her, and she spun around and left before anything else could happen.

    Running late, she messaged PumpkinKing while she stepped into the bitter, cold breeze. Be right there. His response made her stomach sink so, very low.

    No problem. I¡¯ll be online, waiting :)

 Chapter 46

    The date was supposed to consist of watching one of Cat¡¯s favorite movies while eating ice cream and chatting in the chat box beside the movie. But Cat didn¡¯t go to the 24-hour convenience store for her ice cream, and instead ran straight to her dorm room to turn on her laptop. She was twenty minutes late by the time she managed to log onto the web site, and PumpkinKing¡¯s little green light beside his name sprinkled a fresh feeling of shame on the side stitch that appeared from her impromptu run in inappropriate clothes and shoes.

    Hey, so sorry for being late! she typed the minute her internet browser let her interact with it.

    Np. I just beat the computer at Chess three times in a row. Oh, God, she didn¡¯t deserve someone as nice as him to be interested in her. Cat struggled to steady her heart.

    Did you take it off of tutorial mode?

    Isn¡¯t it enough that I won? Every laugh he got from her just made her feel more guilty. How could she even begin to navigate what just happened?

    It turned out that Cat¡¯s favorite movie wasn¡¯t on Netflix, but PumpkinKing had a nifty trick with some sort of VPN app. After a quick Google search to find out which countries had Finding Nemo in their Netflix libraries, PumpkinKing declared himself as visiting Norway and pulled the title right up. She kept typing, Never mind, it doesn¡¯t matter. It¡¯s not worth it anyway, but he insisted in putting in all of that effort for some stupid animated movie they¡¯d both seen a dozen times.

    Are you really that into the movie or are you a little distracted? PumpkinKing asked by the time Darla was introduced into the scene. Cat sighed at her computer. She kept taking too long replying to his jokes; she was so far in her head, she hardly registered that her favorite character was on-screen.

    I¡¯m a little distracted, she admitted.

    Making plans for Spring Break? Oh yeah, that was coming up. But she only got to fully take advantage of half of it due to work, and with her next pre-calc midterm right beforehand, she wasn¡¯t looking forward to it as much as everyone else. If only those were the only concerns floating around her brain right now.

    It¡¯ll be nice to visit my family, she typed absent-mindedly. Did she want to bring this up to him right now? On their date? She couldn¡¯t determine whether she was obsessively thinking about how she nearly kissed Peter out of guilt or--well, it must have been guilt.

    She was just caught in the moment, back at the tutoring center. It could have happened to anyone, with anyone, and it almost happened with Peter because he was there. It almost happened Halloween, when they were drunk and just got too close, and his shirt was slightly open, with his cuffs rolled up--Cat smacked her forehead with her hand, snapping the thoughts away.

    This wasn¡¯t working. When she was anywhere else, her mind couldn¡¯t settle on anything that didn¡¯t have to do with PumpkinKing. She thought of him constantly, his sarcasm, his weirdly specific knowledge about the human body and the physical world around them. But now when she finally had dedicated time to him, Peter¡¯s stupid face kept interrupting her. It was frustrating. And Pumpkin could tell her fuse was short tonight.

    Her date with PumpkinKing ended unremarkably. They hadn¡¯t even set a time for a new one, just promised to connect later. Pumpkin wasn¡¯t sure if he worked next week or not; apparently the upcoming Spring Break made everything really weird for his schedule, too. Or maybe he was bored with her and her weird answers and distant replies were grating to him and all the charm of a new fling dissolved, and she¡¯d ruined everything, and--

    ¡°Hi, Kitty-Cat!¡± Hannah announced when she returned from hanging out with Kelsey. ¡°How was your date?¡± Cat still sat at her desk, and let her laptop snap shut loudly, with finality. God, her stomach hurt. ¡°Oh no¡­.¡± Cat flinched.

    ¡°No, no--it wasn¡¯t...it wasn¡¯t bad. I¡¯m just¡­.¡± Cat hadn¡¯t even turned around yet, just let her face rest in her hands as Hannah settled into their dorm.

    ¡°Self-sabotaging?¡± her roommate guessed in a sing-song voice. Hm. Maybe that was it. The way she couldn¡¯t get Peter out of her head--maybe she was just distracting herself from Pumpkin because her feelings were growing for him, and the risk of meeting him was still too great. This had to be it: the butterflies in her stomach at the thought of him were scaring her.

    ¡°Maybe,¡± Cat answered after a while. But even if that¡¯s what these thoughts were, the repetitive images of Peter¡¯s soft lips, or the scent of his laundry detergent and chlorine--it didn¡¯t account for his behavior. This rubber-banding between aggression and this tender edge to his voice when he said her name¡­. Cat ignored whatever Hannah¡¯s question was and whirled around to face her, her lips pursed.

    ¡°You¡¯re a detective,¡± she said before she could talk herself out of asking for help. Hannah¡¯s face lit up like a Christmas tree.

    ¡°I¡¯m on it! What¡¯s his screen name, what¡¯s his major?¡± Immediately, Hannah started to dig into her bag for her phone, but Cat stopped her.

    ¡°No, not--not about this guy.¡± Cat pointed back to her laptop, her thoughts already miles away.

    ¡°Wait, what?¡±

    ¡°I--I¡¯m trying to¡­.¡± Now that she looked at her roommate¡¯s face, her resolve wavered. Hannah¡¯s eyebrow arched.

    ¡°Pick at your fingers any harder and you¡¯ll ruin your manicure,¡± Hannah noted, gesturing. Cat flinched and looked down to her hands before she carefully maneuvered her hands to sit still under her legs.

    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°I need help figuring out Peter,¡± she blurted before her stomach could solidify into ice. Her roommate made a choking sound. ¡°He¡¯s--¡±

    ¡°What did you guys fight about this time?¡± Her voice was taut with annoyance, but Cat didn¡¯t reply. ¡°Or you didn¡¯t? And that¡¯s confusing you?¡± God, what words to use¡­.

    ¡°I--he--I¡¯m just trying to figure out if he¡­.¡± If he what? If he was obsessing over every little movement she made like she was, him? If he was sitting in his dorm, punishing himself for having stupid, invasive thoughts?

    ¡°What, he¡¯s acting weird or something?¡± Weird. Heh.

    ¡°Well--¡±

    ¡°What was the last thing you did?¡± Uh, nothing she was willing to tell her loud-mouthed roommate, that was for sure! ¡°Before he started acting weird?¡±

    A slow sigh escaped her lips. Maybe that¡¯s all this was. Maybe this was just a reaction to¡­. ¡°I told Thomas so he would rescind his Tribunal request for Peter.¡±

    "Oh.¡±

    ¡°But--¡± Cat interrupted her own thoughts, shaking her head, ¡°this--this started before that.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s--what is ¡®this¡¯, exactly?¡± The tight breaths, the voice inflections, the way his gaze softened. Cat ran a hand down her face.

    ¡°Um--¡±

    ¡°Cat?¡±

    ¡°Uhhh--¡±

    "What?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s just been--¡± Cat¡¯s voice came out muffled through her hand. ¡°He¡¯s just looking at me differently, is all.¡± Though she couldn¡¯t even convince herself of that. That¡¯s all, hah.

    ¡°Hm,¡± came Hannah¡¯s curt reply. ¡°So you want me to, like, pay attention to him more or something?¡±

    ¡°I, um¡­. I just want to see if it¡¯s in my head or not.¡± That wasn¡¯t really it. But Hannah was a detective at heart, so she would notice anything and everything if she just wanted to look at all. Maybe that was enough.

    ¡°Okay.¡± Hannah shrugged, as if it was nothing. And hopefully it wasn¡¯t.

    <hr>

    Lunch the next day was the first time everyone was reunited in over a week. Cam returned to his usual, joyous self, exuberant, complete now that he was able to swim again. Kelsey, too, was in a good mood, so it was hard not to smile at all the stupid jokes she and Cam kept making. Hannah¡¯s only indication that she was going to do what Cat asked was a single wink before they¡¯d all sat down together.

    At first, she couldn¡¯t get her shoulders to relax. She sat with Cam between her and Peter, and Kelsey on her other side, just as a buffer. Peter was a little tense, but otherwise the same as every other time. He kept looking at his phone--more than usual--though.

    Until he finally got up to answer it in a very similar fashion to how he did all the time last semester. The group frowned at one another.

    ¡°How much worse could it get for him?¡± Kelsey asked after a moment of silence. Cat hardly gestured for her to elaborate. ¡°Kicked out, disowned, not allowed to see his brother--what other bad news could he possibly get?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t jinx him,¡± Cam muttered when Peter returned. He lowered himself with a dejected sigh, but wasn¡¯t immune to the curiosity the group looked to him with.

    ¡°Last-ditch effort from my lawyer to let me talk to Oscar,¡± he explained with a flat tone. ¡°Didn¡¯t work.¡±

    ¡°How can your step-dad stop you from talking to your own brother?¡± Hannah¡¯s voice had sympathy laced in his skepticism. ¡°That sounds illegal.¡±

    ¡°He controls the phones and Internet. He¡¯s got access to everything Oscar has, every online profile, email, all that. Every time I try to get a message to him, I get a notification I¡¯ve been blocked.¡± Peter let his hand drop down onto the table, thudding loudly. ¡°Short of showing up to the house and getting arrested for trespassing, I don¡¯t know what to do. I¡¯m blocked everywhere.¡±

    ¡°Then don¡¯t be you,¡± Cat said flatly. Why was he being such an idiot? Though he didn¡¯t have someone like PumpkinKing, teaching him the ways of pretending to be someone else, making fake emails and using a VPN to fake being in Norway.

    ¡°What?¡± Peter¡¯s patience was thin, she could tell from his voice. They hadn¡¯t actually looked at each other at all since lunch started, but this time, she glanced up to him. His confusion made her roll her eyes.

    ¡°Make a fake Facebook profile and pretend to be someone else.¡± The table fell silent.

    ¡°Are you suggesting I catfish my brother?¡± She expected him to reject the idea immediately, but his tone had an edge to it, like he was considering it.

    Cam let out an obnoxious laugh. ¡°Go get a stock photo of an underwear model and disappoint him when he learns it¡¯s you!¡± The girls laughed, but Cat shrugged.

    ¡°I mean, if he¡¯s that gullible, there¡¯s your in.¡± She stabbed her unusually flat Caesar salad.

    Peter¡¯s energy shifted. ¡°He¡¯s not¡­.¡± She could almost hear a but coming.

    ¡°Oh! Use one of our profiles!¡± Hannah bubbled up in her seat, eyes lit with ideas. ¡°I can give you my password!¡±

    ¡°But we¡¯re Facebook friends. I don¡¯t think that would fly.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not friends with everyone,¡± said Hannah. Cat didn¡¯t have to look up from her salad to know that everyone was staring at her now.

    She shook her head. ¡°I¡¯m not giving you my Facebook password.¡± She hardly used it, anyway. And give Peter access to all her logged conversations with her exes and her family? No, thank you.

    ¡°Okay, fake profile,¡± Hannah continued. ¡°Just use Cat¡¯s face.¡±

    ¡°Hah!¡± Cameron burst. ¡±Cat-fishing! With Cat!¡± While Kelsey and Peter laughed at the pun, Cat looked up to her roommate, frowning.

    ¡°Why would a seventeen-year-old boy accept a random friend request from some random college chi--¡± Cat stopped talking before she could sound any stupider, and sighed. ¡°Why me? Use Hannah.¡±

    ¡°Hannah is all over my Facebook page,¡± Peter said. She could feel his gaze on her, but she didn¡¯t look at him. ¡°Kelsey, too.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve got it,¡± Hannah announced with a higher tone than usual. ¡°We¡¯ll use some of your pictures, friend some of Oscar¡¯s Facebook friends, build a fake profile, and bam!¡± Cat scowled.

    ¡°Just not my name or anything,¡± she muttered. Even if she said no to this stupid idea, they could just steal her pictures.

    ¡°Catrina!¡± Hannah announced. ¡°Catrina Rose!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a porn name. You¡¯re not using my picture with a porn name.¡±

    ¡°Catrina Rose...F...ere...day? Catrina Rose Fereday. And a picture of you with a little bit of cleavage? Come on.¡± Cat shrunk in on herself.

    ¡°Oh! That black and red dress that you have!¡± Kelsey piped up, raising a finger. ¡°That¡¯s such a cute look.¡± Wait, what?

    Cameron gasped. ¡°Oh, say you¡¯re into soccer, too! Then he¡¯ll definitely want to talk to you!¡±

    Cat stared at him, eyes wide. ¡±I¡¯m not catfishing Oscar. Peter is.¡± Even though she pointed to him, Hannah and Kelsey started to talk over each other with other ideas:

    ¡°And I can get my little sister to get her friends to friend you, too, so that the profile looks super legit--¡±

    ¡°Omigod, we could do, like, a little photoshoot, to make it look like the page has been up longer than just now!¡±

    ¡°We can go to that little park over by the beach--¡±

    Cat tried to interrupt the growing lists of ideas, waving her hands to try and quiet her friends. ¡°Do I get any say in this?¡±

    Hannah started to slap the table in the same way she did whenever she got too stuck on a stupid idea of hers.

    ¡°Are you going to keep the two brothers separate?¡± She was positively glowing, antsy. Cat sighed.

    ¡°I--no¡­. But why do we need a whole photoshoot--?¡±

    ¡°Because it¡¯s fun! Come on!¡± But when Cat looked to Hannah, there was an extra glint in her eye. Mischievous.

    Good lord.

 Chapter 47

    Lunch was a massive indication as to how weird the whole weekend would be. Somehow, after eating, everyone piled into Cat¡¯s dorm, and while she sat in the furthest corner on her bed, they tore through her clothes in her closet, lifting things up, looking to Peter, who stood off to the side like Miranda from The Devil Wears Prada, shaking his head or pursing his lips.

    Cat tried to tune them out by staring at her phone. She had her next counseling appointment in about an hour, but she kept clicking over to Talkative. No new message from PumpkinKing yet. The day was half over. This was the longest they¡¯d gone without talking since she reinstalled the stupid app. What if she did really ruin it all? What if acting like a space cadet yesterday sealed the deal, and he made up his mind to move on from her?

    ¡°...have one pair of jeans?¡± Cat glanced up from her phone to see Cam holding her only pair of jeans in his hand, staring at her as if she was psychotic.

    ¡°I don¡¯t like pants,¡± she said, shrugging and returning to her phone.

    ¡°But you wear tights and leggings all the time!¡±

    Cat sighed. ¡°Is this going to take long? I¡¯ve got a thing to go to at four.¡±

    ¡°Fine, fine, fine,¡± Kelsey groaned. She snatched the pants out of Cam¡¯s hand and muttered something to Hannah, who returned to her own closet. ¡°So we have a few outfits to pick out for our photoshoot tomorrow. We just wanted a couple pics of you in that tree--you know, that tree?¡± Cat nodded even though she didn¡¯t. ¡°So we thought jeans would be safe, since it¡¯s supposed to be windy. You cool with one of Hannah¡¯s sweaters?¡± Again, Cat nodded without looking up. She was perfectly content looking at PumpkinKing¡¯s history to see if he had posted anything on the app, or if he wasn¡¯t actually on it at all. But a flash of red in Kelsey¡¯s hand caught her attention.

    ¡°Not that one,¡± Cat snapped. Not that red sweater. Not the one she borrowed that night--

    ¡°Huh?¡± Hannah asked, waiting for her to repeat what she said.

    ¡°But you¡¯d look so cute in it!¡± Kelsey cried. ¡°Red is so your color!¡± Cat¡¯s heart froze in her chest. In the back of her mind, she could hear faded hip-hop music, smell the grease from delivered pizza, taste watered-down beer. Her stomach lurched.

    ¡°No.¡± Cat tried to keep her tone soft, but it still sounded too sharp to her own ears. Peter sat up a little straighter.

    ¡°Why not?¡± her friend pressed. Was she stupid?

    ¡°I¡¯m not wearing that.¡± Her eyes snapped to Cam, who stood in a sort of T-pose with hangers of other outfits on him. One yellow dress she hadn¡¯t worn since last year, the black and red dress from Halloween, and a different dress that was white and floral, but had mostly red roses on it. Cat scrambled off her bed without another thought, shaking her head and snatching the latter two options off of Cam¡¯s arm. She balled them up, hangers included. Her voice cracked. ¡°No. This is stupid. I¡¯m not wearing those. They don¡¯t--they don¡¯t fit right.¡± Cat shoved them into her trash bin on top of her granola bar wrappers and an unfinished breakfast burrito, then snatched her messenger bag off the floor. Her friends¡¯ protests never even reached her ears.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got a thing to go to,¡± she lied. She¡¯d be a full half hour early to her appointment if she left now, but she didn¡¯t care. She couldn¡¯t stay in this room. It was too warm, too red¡­.

    ¡°Cat,¡± Peter said once her hand fell on the handle. Why was it always his voice that she heard the clearest? Everyone else asking her questions, giving her alternatives--their words were just noise in the background. But she looked at him, he was silent, just mouthing to her. She knew he was counting. He hardly got to three, but she took a deep breath, just to show him she understood. Cam and Hannah still tried to ask her what the hell she was doing while Kelsey lifted her now-ruined dresses out of her trash bin.

    Cat let out her breath slowly, to the counting she continued from Peter¡¯s prompting. ¡°I¡¯ll be back later.¡±

    <hr>

    The appointment with her counselor took far more energy than Cat allotted for the day. The first half was spent identifying triggers for her anxiety attacks, which now consisted of the broad category of ¡°red clothes,¡± to Cat¡¯s disappointment. Or, rather, it wasn¡¯t red clothes. Just that one bit.

    ¡°You¡¯re already doing the right thing,¡± Dr. Harvey said with a warm smile. ¡°You successfully breathed and walked through an anxiety attack on your way here. That¡¯s huge!¡± The praise may as well have been Hannah and Kelsey telling her how cute she looked in that red sweater. Cat shrugged.

    ¡°I was still set off by a sweater, and I¡¯m still so exhausted I feel like I could go to bed for a year.¡± Dr. Harvey wasn¡¯t having her dismissive response, and leaned forward in her chair.

    ¡°Your body is unconsciously looking at every little thing in this room that might remind you of that trauma, assessing it, and cataloging it for later. That is an exhausting task.¡± Well. She hadn¡¯t thought of it like that. ¡°Your body is just trying to protect you. It¡¯s going a little too hard at it, but that¡¯s what this is. It¡¯s nothing to be ashamed of, or to be dismissive of. You¡¯re undoing instincts right now. That¡¯s not an easy feat.¡± When Cat finally looked at her fidgeting hands, the doctor had one last bit of advice: ¡°It takes a lot to unlearn fear. Be patient with yourself.¡±

    <hr>

    In the name of compassion, Cat let herself be tired that night. She returned to an empty dorm room and a sticky note on her bed.

    We¡¯re giving you space I guess. Text me if you want dinner. - H.

    Cat tossed the note in her recycle bin, only to find that her trash had been taken out for her. No dresses, no breakfast burrito, empty. She stood in the middle of her room, counting in her head to control her breathing. Focus on compassion for yourself, the doctor said. Well. In that case, all she wanted to do was curl up in a ball on her bed and continue reading Arabian Nights for her English class.

    So that was what she did. Well, sort of. The words were on the page, and she said them in her head as she read, but they didn¡¯t stick. Her eyes kept darting to the clock, then to her phone. No texts, no messages of any kind. It was already eight PM, and the ¡°space¡± her friends gave her began to sound a hell of a lot more like a Peter thing than something Kelsey or Cam or Hannah would come up with.

    Cat¡¯s hands kept hovering on the silent group chat, itching to write that she was out, that she couldn¡¯t be the face of this catfishing attempt. But eventually, she just set her phone down to be charged on her nightstand and let the memory of Peter¡¯s counting lull her to sleep.

    <hr>

    Technology never worked in dreams, not like it was supposed to. This one was no different. Cat sat and stared at her phone, at a text message from PumpkinKing. Her stomach twisted into knots at his simple ¡°hi :)¡± text, and no part of her found it strange that he was texting her rather than messaging her on Talkative like usual. She went to reply, but looked up from her phone to see Peter sitting across from her with his usual, judgy face.

    ¡°That him?¡± he asked, gesturing to her phone. When she looked down to Pumpkin¡¯s text, his simple salutation morphed into something else.

    Are you cheating on me? :(

    Cat¡¯s eyes bulged. What? Of course not!

    I thought you liked me.

    ¡°Just stringing him along?¡± Peter added.

    ¡°No!¡± But saying it didn¡¯t make her fingers work to type. For whatever reason, she couldn¡¯t bring herself to reply to Pumpkin, and could only watch his replies appear between glances to Peter¡¯s looks of pity.

    You said you had really strong feelings for me, Pumpkin continued, and I waited for you. But you never let me in.

    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Kind of sad,¡± finished dream-Peter. Finally, Cat¡¯s shaking hands set her phone down, giving up on a reply all together. ¡°You just...let people go. I know more about you than your closest friends. Than your family, even.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s--that¡¯s not--that¡¯s not true!¡± she tried to argue, but he shook his head at her, slow, knowing. ¡°I can¡¯t even stand to be around you!¡± He rolled his eyes at her.

    ¡°Then why?¡± His tone took a more challenging form; when she stared at him, he started to smile, as if he knew something she had yet to figure out.

    ¡°Why what?¡± When she blinked, he suddenly held a mocha ice cream bar in his hand, unwrapping it as he gestured to her.

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t we eat ice cream?¡± Huh? He threw his wrapper to the neighboring trash can, and pointed at her with his popsicle. ¡°We were supposed to eat ice cream.¡± This felt important. Like she was supposed to understand whatever it was he was referring to, but other than the frustration of an unsolved puzzle, Cat was left with nothing.

    <hr>

    It was the sun¡¯s fault. Or maybe it was Hannah¡¯s. It was the sun¡¯s fault for rising at that moment, and Hannah¡¯s fault for not shutting the window covers tightly enough when she finally came to bed. Maybe dream-Peter would have said something else, something that would make any sense at all, but instead, she found herself staring at the ceiling of her dorm room, annoyed...and now craving ice cream.

    The first thing she did, like every morning, was grab her phone blindly and bring it to her face to check messages...but there weren¡¯t any. PumpkinKing had yet to message her.

    ¡°Hey, you¡¯re awake,¡± Hannah¡¯s soft voice sounded from across the room. ¡°I didn¡¯t wake you, did I?¡± Cat twisted to see her roommate with her laptop and a book open on her bed, still in her pajamas.

    ¡°No, I just woke up naturally,¡± answered Cat with a thick throat. As she sat up and reached for her water bottle, Hannah took the opportunity to dive into whatever worries kept her from returning until late.

    ¡°So I wanted to apologize for going a little HAM yesterday--¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± Cat said, waving her hand. ¡°I overreacted. The sweater just--¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s gone.¡±

    ¡°Hm?¡±

    ¡°I threw out the sweater. I never wore it, and it triggered you, and Peter said that--¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t have to throw it out¡­.¡± And Peter didn¡¯t have to open his stupid, fat mouth any time she didn¡¯t explicitly tell him to be quiet about something. Come on!

    ¡°I wanted to.¡± Hannah¡¯s voice carried a heaviness to it, an additional message. Cat pursed her lips, but nodded. A show of support. She couldn¡¯t be there when Cat actually wore the sweater, so she would throw away the thing all together. Did she seriously feel bad for not being there after the whole Nate situation? By her expression, it certainly seemed like it. But Cat was the one that didn¡¯t say anything.... Dream-Peter¡¯s expression came back to the forefront of her mind, now. Only he was looking a whole lot like real-Peter, smug, with an I-told-you-so expression. He told her to talk to someone about it. Well...

    After a few moments of silence, Hannah filled the air with a gentle change of topic. ¡°Are you still up for today?¡±

    As she set her water bottle back down on her nightstand, Cat gave a reluctant nod as she returned her attention to the present. ¡°Sure. But I¡¯ve got ceramics to catch up on, so it can¡¯t take all day.¡±

    Hannah brightened up at the prospect. ¡°No problem. I have the rest of the account set up already, we just need your pictures.¡± No pressure or anything.

    <hr>

    Apparently, everyone was told to wait on standby in a separate group chat that didn¡¯t include Cat. When she came back from her shower, everyone once again crowded in her room, Cam holding a tote bag already half-full of stuff.

    ¡°So I¡¯m thinking you should do simple makeup,¡± Kelsey dived in right away. Cat still stood in the doorway, in a robe, as her friend continued, ¡°No bronzer or blush or anything, just eyeliner, mascara--we can change out the lip with whatever outfit.¡± She hardly took a step into her own room before Hannah held up a dark blue cardigan with a white dress from Cat¡¯s closet.

    ¡°Can I get dressed, please?¡± she asked with an annoyed tone to her voice. The girls giggled, the guys went to leave, but Peter hesitated.

    ¡°Coconut?¡± he asked to the air. Cat didn¡¯t look at him, and remained frozen in place with one hand holding her robe shut at the top, and the other pulling the bottom down on her thigh more. She¡¯d shown a lot more skin to them before, but after such a raw afternoon yesterday, after such a strange dream where Peter¡¯s face interrogated her about something she held so secret, Cat couldn¡¯t help but feel a little exposed.

    ¡°Pina colada!¡± was Cam¡¯s helpful addition to Peter¡¯s comment from the hallway.

    Peter¡¯s voice sounded distant. ¡°My favorite aunt used to do that to her hair, too: put coconut oil in it.¡± Hand on the doorknob, he muttered to himself, ¡°I hope she¡¯s still alive.¡± Cat wanted to slam the door.

    He didn¡¯t have to keep reminding her about how shitty his life was. She already agreed to help! It wasn¡¯t necessary to make those offhanded comments about how he had no contact with anyone in his family, and that this was the only shot he had at talking to his brother. God, what an ass.

    Keeping her comments to herself, Cat layered on the outfits her friends decided she¡¯d wear, put on the directed makeup, and kept her hair down and ready to change with her outfits. On the short walk to the park beside campus, Kelsey and Hannah planned poses, and Cam offered advice on how to make it all look more authentic, so it wasn¡¯t all photos of just Cat.

    Cat prepped for the first picture, adjusting her hair, checking her eyeliner, smoothing out the dress, and stood by Peter. His eyes were glued to his phone--surprise--while everyone else took pictures of the clouds that looked like Barney the Dinosaur, some flowers, and, apparently, one of Cat when she was busy cursing Peter in her head.

    ¡°Hm?¡± She looked up to Hannah, who laughed at her, then gestured for Cat to get into place.

    ¡°You look like you¡¯re planning a murder. It was funny. Anyway!¡± Hannah pointed to a spot in front of the centerpiece of the tiny park, a giant oak tree. ¡°So we¡¯re gunna do this tricky kind of shot, where Kelsey and Cam are in the pics, but their faces won¡¯t fully be shown or anything so that it looks like you have friends.¡±

    At Peter¡¯s snort, Cat glared as she said, ¡°Catrina. That Catrina has friends.¡±

    ¡°Right, Catrina. Stand there, and Cam and Kelsey on either side, right....¡± The trio followed Hannah¡¯s instructions for the next hour, using lighting and different bunches of weeds, tree branches, and hair to slightly obstruct their faces. Hannah insisted the photos looked great, and that the different outfits they all changed into were relatively convincing. Well, since Cam and Kelsey wore jeans, it was really just taking off a jacket and putting on another, and Cat¡¯s outfit changes were a little more precise and pre-planned. Thankfully, from having to share a room with her little brother for so long, she learned how to change without fully exposing herself. Or rather, it was just the mastery of putting clothes on top of clothes and taking the under layer off. She wasn¡¯t planning on getting arrested for indecent exposure doing a photoshoot for Peter¡¯s brother.

    Either way, Cat¡¯s patience was already thin, and growing thinner by the minute. The wind made it feel like it was ten degrees colder than it actually was, and now that her friends were wearing jackets and she was left in a strappy summer dress and flip flops, it was difficult to smile on demand.

    ¡°Okay, you look annoyed again,¡± Hannah said from behind her phone. ¡°Try smiling for real.¡± Cat let out an audible sigh.

    ¡°I do have stuff to do today¡­.¡±

    Cameron dismissed her with a wave. ¡°We all have stuff to do.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have anything to do today,¡± Peter mumbled from the sidelines. Still looking at his stupid phone. Cat grit her teeth.

    ¡°Then maybe you should actually act like you want to be here,¡± she snapped. Finally, he looked up.

    ¡°Excuse me?¡± He was offended? Hannah slowly lowered her phone, searching to the friends on either side of her for help.

    Cat crossed her arms to try and slow her shivering. ¡°We¡¯ve been doing this for you, and you¡¯ve hardly looked up from your phone!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not like I can be in the photos--¡±

    ¡°No shit, Sherlock! But you could--¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve got something to do!¡± Cameron announced, holding up his hand to try and stop them from arguing. ¡°Maybe we can finish this really quick and we can be on our way?¡± Cat still stared at Peter, lips pursed, shivering, daring him to say something back. But maybe that thick skull held a brain after all, because all he did was stare at her. Perhaps because he knew that in an instant, this could all be over. No photos, no using her face.

    ¡°We¡¯ve got enough,¡± Cat insisted instead. She bent down to pick up her jacket from the tote bag. ¡°I¡¯ve got to catch up on ceramics.¡±

    ¡°Great!¡± Hannah chirped, much to Cat¡¯s surprise. ¡°Can I use your projects as some B-roll?¡± She squinted at her. Was she completely incapable of reading the situation here? Normally, she was so good at it.

    Cameron took the tote from Cat¡¯s hands as she asked, ¡°What¡¯s B-roll?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve got some errands to run, so--¡± Kelsey jabbed her finger back toward campus, and with a supporting nod from Cam, the two immediately twisted around to leave. Escaping. Those bastards.

    ¡°B-roll doesn¡¯t work in this scenario,¡± was Peter¡¯s helpful, stupid comment. Cat rolled her eyes.

    ¡°Some pics of your projects!¡± Hannah didn¡¯t even register that two fifths of their group had suddenly disappeared. She didn¡¯t register that Cat stood there in front of her with negative patience, even though she didn¡¯t even try to hide how pissed off she was.

    ¡°Whatever, sure. I don¡¯t care.¡± Cat shrugged as she grabbed for her messenger bag. Maybe she was being rude, especially since Hannah didn¡¯t really deserve that kind of tone, but she was far too cold and irritated to deal with this right now.

    ¡°Great!¡± Hannah repeated. ¡°Come on, Peter. You said you don¡¯t have anything to do, right?¡± Cat hesitated, now, staring ahead at Cam and Kelsey, who weren¡¯t that far ahead, but were walking quickly as if they were being chased.

    ¡°Hm? I don¡¯t, but--¡±

    ¡°Cool, we¡¯ll just hang out with Cat while she does her clay stuff!¡± As Hannah said this, Cat fought the urge to whirl around and uninvite her. What was she doing? Ceramics was the only place that Cat found peace, and now she was not only tagging along, but bringing Peter? For no good reason?

    Cat started walking back to campus with a stomach full of irritation and a clenched jaw, to boot. But at some point, when she glanced over to Hannah, her irritation burned away into an acidic dread. Hannah¡¯s smile was bigger than the day was long, and upon meeting Cat¡¯s gaze, she gave a devilish wink.

    Oh, boy.

 Chapter 48

    Hannah¡¯s silent expressions didn¡¯t clear up anything at all. She and Peter exchanged meaningless conversation as Cat led the way to the ceramics studio.

    ¡°Your brother have a girlfriend?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°Oh, right. Did he when you last spoke to him?¡±

    ¡°Uh, kind of, but not officially. You know how it is.¡±

    Cat pulled open the heavy door to the studio, and looked at Peter and Hannah as she said, ¡°Don¡¯t touch anything.¡± Peter rolled his eyes, and Hannah bounced through the doorway with her phone out, ready to take pictures.

    There were only a couple people with headphones on working at the wheel, making bowls and cups and plates, so Cat had half of the studio all to herself to finish her bust. She chose a wooden table near the cubbies, gathered her supplies, and plopped her clay head down on a lazy susan to get started.

    But with Hannah and Peter sitting right across from her, Cat could only stare at the trash bag that covered her project.

    ¡°Oh, is it weird we¡¯re watching?¡± Hannah asked suddenly.

    ¡°I¡¯m not watching.¡± Peter continued to poke and prod at his phone, even after Cat started to take the trash bag off her piece. She fought the urge to pick up a slab of clay and throw it at his stupid face.

    ¡°Kind of weird,¡± Cat agreed through her teeth.

    ¡°What¡¯s your project?¡± Her roomie stood up and rounded the table to stand next to Cat, squinting as she did so. ¡°Is it you?¡±

    ¡°I guess. I don¡¯t know. Just supposed to be a bust. I don¡¯t really know what I¡¯m doing with it. I can¡¯t get the face to be even.¡±

    ¡°Can I take pictures of your other stuff? Like Instagram-status pics?¡± Hannah picked up a wooden paintbrush with hardened clay on it and started to pose it among the other tools, and Cat frowned.

    ¡°Um, sure. The kiln is back there.¡± She pointed to the part of the room kitty corner to her, where there was a massive roll-up door that led to the giant clay oven. ¡°Might be some stuff out there that¡¯s cool, too. I¡¯ll just work on this for an hour or something.¡± Hannah seemed pleased with her answer, and immediately took to taking some of Cat¡¯s tools, placing them about in different lighting, and taking pictures with her phone. Cat tried her best to ignore her, to stare at her clay disaster until some sort of inspiration took over and told her how to fix the stupid face.

    ¡°Oh!¡± Hannah sounded suddenly, after only a couple pictures. ¡°Peter, we can work on the profile.¡±

    Cat immediately reached for her headphones in her ceramics cubby, and gave a small smile to Hannah as she gestured with them to let her know she wasn¡¯t going to pay any attention. Hannah nodded, then took a seat next to Peter to crowd over his phone.

    It took two full songs before Cat¡¯s hand finally reached for the tiny squirt bottle full of water. She sprayed the face of her bust, took the paintbrush, and began to run it over the indents where the eyes were, erasing the details she¡¯d done last time she was here. A paper towel and extra water helped erase some of the deeper features, until finally all she saw was this shell of a face, staring at her in an earthy red color. For whatever reason, it seemed to show more expression than when she actually put anything on it. Well, that sucked.

    Cat glanced up from her work periodically to check on Hannah and Peter, see what they were doing. The first time, they seemed to be muttering and mulling about a couple photos; the second time, each were on their own phones, silent and not talking to one another. Then, the third time, Hannah waved for Cat¡¯s attention. She pulled out a headphone from her ear.

    ¡°How¡¯s it going?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Um, fine,¡± said Cat.

    ¡°It¡¯s just been, like...an hour and a half.¡± What? Oh. Cat glanced down to her phone to check the time, and grimaced.

    ¡°Sorry. I haven¡¯t gotten very far. Just another half hour?¡± Hannah adjusted herself on her seat a bit and glanced around the studio. Only one person remained, throwing lumps of clay onto a pottery wheel over and over again.

    ¡°Okay. I guess I¡¯m going to take some more pictures, just for like, the aesthetic. Maybe I¡¯ll make a profile banner out of it or something.¡± And, like a child given a set of activities to do on a rainy day, Hannah sighed and slowly made her way around the studio. Cat shook her head.

    ¡°What¡¯s the problem?¡± Peter asked. Cat jumped at his sudden question, finally looking at him. His eyes were tired, every bit of him slumped in the chair and onto the table. If he was so bored, why didn¡¯t he just leave?

    Cat pursed her lips and glanced back at the only eye she¡¯d been able to construct. ¡°I can¡¯t get the face to be even.¡± Or to actually like any of it. Sure, the rest of it might have looked like her--the general shape, the hair style she¡¯d given it, but nothing else looked right, other than the left nostril.

    ¡°Can you do that thing little kids do and cover half the face with hair or something?¡± He stared at the back of her piece, gesturing to the gentle waves of clay ¡°hair.¡± Cat bit her lip.

    ¡°Don¡¯t think I¡¯d get very many points for that.¡± Sighing, she retreated to her cubby to pull out the instructions of the assignment and set it on the table. Dried clay fingerprints reminded her of where on the page the assignment was detailed. The blurb was just like every other creative class she took: a little vague, not much to go on, lots of room for interpretation.

    ¡°A human bust with an identity,¡± she mumbled to herself. ¡°So it doesn¡¯t have to be you?¡± asked Peter. She shook her head. ¡°Just do abstract, like Picasso.¡± The gentle taps of his fingers on his phone let her know he wasn¡¯t even looking anymore. Lot of help he was.

    ¡°Picasso wasn¡¯t an abstract artist,¡± she muttered. Peter didn¡¯t seem to hear her. But she didn¡¯t know what kind of artist he actually was, so she didn¡¯t say anything more.

    Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

    Cat scooted her chair back to stare at her work, the metal scraping against the floor with an ugly echo. Everything about this thing was ugly, lopsided, disjointed. No amount of extra layers, or ¡°hair¡± would cover up this mess. The more she stared, the more she frowned; the irritation that struck her earlier was beginning to return.

    The worst part was that only half of this thing was ugly. Even the eye she just did kind of looked okay. But the other side, blank and waiting for something to happen, sagged a little, showed cracks, fingerprints. Parts of it were drying out because she hadn¡¯t covered it properly. It looked almost as dirty as it was misshapen. But if this assignment had to do with identity, it certainly had more of a reflection of a person than the other side. Now that eye and nostril looked fake, like a mask.

    The idea controlled her hands before it even got to her brain. Cat grabbed the piece of wire used to cut clay from its stack, placed it over half of the face, and pulled it down, severing half of her creation clean off.

    ¡°Woah,¡± sounded Peter as she caught the piece of clay face in her hand. She set it down on the table gently, then began to stretch and smooth the rest of the bust to hide the fact that she just ripped half of it off.

    ¡°Dr. Hannibal, you just destroyed your project.¡± But Cat ignored Peter¡¯s snide comment before she returned to the clay she¡¯d just removed. She pinched the edges, smoothed them out to make it look more purposeful, more rounded and manufactured, before she plopped it back onto where she had removed it.

    Now, staring back at her, was a lopsided mound of clay vaguely in the shape of a bust, with only one side of the face, the mask, containing any normal-looking features. For whatever reason, now that she stared at it, it gave off a wave of somber energy.

    The tiniest hint of chlorine and detergent hit her nose before she heard his voice, almost sad: ¡°That¡¯s not...how you see yourself, is it?¡± He seemed to sense the energy from her project, too.

    Well. It wasn¡¯t strictly literal, and it wasn¡¯t strictly creative. If she had been able to get the other half right, she wouldn¡¯t have done it like this. But the part of the bust that looked half-decent didn¡¯t feel right, either.

    ¡°It¡¯s just clay,¡± Cat settled with. ¡°Don¡¯t get all psychoanalytical.¡± One therapist was enough.

    ¡°I¡¯m not.¡± He sounded defensive. ¡°It¡¯s just--I mean, you¡¯ve had a rough couple of months--¡±

    ¡°Shut up.¡± She didn¡¯t need reminding. To emphasize her point, she grabbed the trash bag that protected the clay from drying out and shoved it over her bust.

    ¡°I was only saying--¡± She glared at him, and at the sight of her expression, his frown revealed dimples.

    ¡°You don¡¯t see me saying you swim all different because you¡¯ve got daddy issues,¡± she blurted faster than she could soften any of her words. But before she had to face the consequences of saying something like that, she turned around with her bust to store it in her cubby. When she returned to the table to gather her leftover tools to rinse off in the sink, she saw him watching her out of the corner of her eye, still slowly erasing some of the shock.

    ¡°You¡¯re impossible.¡± His voice grew taut with every word. ¡°You¡¯ll say literally anything to--¡± But she turned on the sink to drown out his words and shut her eyes tightly, struggling to shut him out. Couldn¡¯t he take a hint? Did he not see that it already felt like her skin was inside-out, all her secrets out for the world to poke and prod at? Reminding her at every turn wouldn¡¯t make it any better, wouldn¡¯t change anything. Honestly, she could hardly look at a sweater. What made him think that bringing it up in public would be any better? Idiot.

    By the time Cat finished cleaning up her materials, her hands shook more from the freezing water than from unwanted memories. Hannah returned to them, seemingly antsy to get going to somewhere else; Peter had recovered to a predictable grimace by then.

    ¡°All done?¡± she asked once Cat set her supply bucket in its designated spot.

    ¡°As much as I¡¯m going to get done today,¡± she answered with a shrug. ¡°Did you guys set up the profile?¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡± Hannah picked up the tote bag and swung it on her shoulder, then fell in step between Cat and Peter. ¡°We made it look like Catrina had a bad breakup and deleted her profile, and now she¡¯s back. To explain all the new activity and all that.¡± Cat nodded to indicate she heard, but her stomach fluttered a bit the more she thought of it. It was a little fun, for a short while, to pretend to be a model today, but was any of it going to work? Would some rich high school kid look at the pictures and fall for it, that some random girl wanted to friend him? What if he rejected the friend request, and all of this was for nothing? The awkwardness, the anxiety¡­. They should¡¯ve used Hannah or Kelsey or something. They were more sociable, looked friendlier, smiled bigger, and most of the time looked leagues prettier--

    ¡°What if Oscar doesn¡¯t¡­.¡± Her words trailed off. What if Oscar what? Looked at the pictures and thought it was too fake? Or what if he thought it was too weird that an older girl was trying to friend him, or that maybe she wasn¡¯t that attractive anyway and that--

    ¡°He will,¡± was Peter¡¯s short answer.

    ¡°How do you know?¡± What if instead, he flagged the profile and they got in trouble? Did people get in trouble for making fake profiles? ¡°Can we get in trouble if this doesn¡¯t work?¡±

    ¡°Relax, it¡¯s fine.¡± But his eyes still stared at his phone, checking it for whatever it was that was so important. Cat grit her teeth.

    ¡°I don¡¯t--I don¡¯t think we can get in trouble,¡± Hannah said, frowning. ¡°I think it¡¯d just get deleted, if someone reports it. But like, Kelsey¡¯s little sister¡¯s friends all said they were fine with accepting the friend request and pretending like they know Catrina.¡± The rabbit hole just got a little deeper. ¡°I think it¡¯s convincing.¡±

    Cat quieted herself with a sigh, and opted to stay silent until they made their way back to the dorms. Peter kept the energy tense, but Hannah didn¡¯t say anything about it, just continued attempting to make smalltalk until they parted ways in the elevator.

    But once the doors shut Peter inside and left them to the hallway, Hannah switched gears immediately.

    ¡°Remember what you asked me to do?¡±

    Cat blinked. ¡°When?¡±

    ¡°To pay more attention?¡± She adopted a hushed tone, fully leaning into her Detective Hat. But after today¡­. Cat sighed. Whatever mixture of signs Peter may have been throwing her way--it didn¡¯t make a difference. Besides, he made his point earlier: she was the one that was different, not him. Vulnerable, anxious. She had a reality-shattering winter. Even though she brushed him off with his stupid Freudian analysis, there was a little merit to it...but he didn¡¯t need to go and open all her sores like that.

    She shook her head to her roommate. ¡°Oh--yeah, just...forget about that. It doesn¡¯t matter.¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡± Hannah grabbed her keyes from her tote to open the door, brows furrowed in confusion.

    ¡°I was just seeing things. He¡¯s no different than before.¡± Cat took her offer to step in first.

    Hannah shut the door behind herself and set the bag down before she returned to whispering: ¡°Okay, but like, you didn¡¯t tell me you guys act all different when no one else is around.¡±

    Cat scrunched her nose. ¡°What? No we don¡¯t.¡± But her roommate jumped backward to sit on her bed, legs crossed, leaning back as if she held all the answers to the world.

    ¡°Mmm--yeah, yeah you do,¡± said Hannah. Was she high?

    ¡°How? We hardly even talk.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have the words¡­.¡± She sighed and looked to the ceiling, leaving Cat even more skeptical that her roommate was of sound mind.

    ¡°M¡¯kay, sure.¡± Cat was sure to layer her voice with as much sarcasm as possible, then lowered herself to her desk chair and opened her laptop to continue her English essay.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think you were seeing things,¡± Hannah said after a short moment. Cat stared at her loading screen, frozen in place, watching her roomie in the reflection of the screen. Hannah still stared at the ceiling, kicking her feet back and forth as casual as could be.

    Cat cleared her throat in an attempt to seem unaffected. ¡°What do you mean?¡± She watched from the monitor how Hannah kicked off her shoes and let out an exaggerated sigh. What was this? What kind of weird performance¡­?

    ¡°Oh, I don¡¯t know. But you¡¯re right, I guess it doesn¡¯t matter.¡± This made Cat turn around and shoot her a look. Hannah gave her a smile that looked far too sweet. ¡°Unless it does?¡± What? What did that mean?

    ¡°Uh,¡± Cat sounded, shaking her head. ¡°I guess...not¡­?¡± And for whatever horrifying reason, Hannah¡¯s only reply was a simple, ¡°Hm!¡±

 Chapter 49

    Kelsey started the process of freaking out while Cat was at work that Sunday.

    Holy crap, its st pattys day!!!! Lets celebrate!!!

    Being the only one of her friends that didn¡¯t have a fake ID, Cat immediately declined and returned to her boring duties of memorizing stupid coffee-chocolate combinations and cleaning out the same blender every other minute. The day was slow, and Cat¡¯s phone did not vibrate to tell her that PumpkinKing messaged her after all. Instead, it was her alcoholic friends trying to find a way to get drunk when everyone had school the next day. And while she still looked at her phone any time it went off, the excitement and anticipation slowly dwindled. She messed up with Pumpkin, that was it. He wasn¡¯t interested in her anymore.

    Sitting beside the dumpsters on her break behind Jittery¡¯s was possibly one of the most depressing fifteen minutes of her life. She sat there beside the flies and maggots, watching them squirm on the rotting food that overflowed the rusty bin. When she couldn¡¯t stomach watching anymore, resting her head on her knees just let her heart sink to the floor.

    I don¡¯t feel like celebrating, Cat messaged back. No fake ID. She hoped that¡¯d be enough, that they¡¯d leave her to maybe grab some ice cream after work while she lay in bed and re-read all of her conversation history with Pumpkin and cried a little.

    Let¡¯s just do it here!!! answered Kelsey. Great. That was going to be a lot harder to get out of.

    Doesn¡¯t everyone have class tomorrow? Cat¡¯s last-ditch attempt to prevent a gathering she¡¯d be forced to attend proved futile when Cam had the bright idea to just ¡°start early.¡±

    <hr>

    So now Cat put on a green dress after work in an attempt to trick her friends that she felt okay, but as she and Hannah started the walk to Cam¡¯s room, Hannah hesitated.

    ¡°You okay?¡± she asked quietly as the elevator doors shut. Cat sighed.

    ¡°Bad day, I guess,¡± was her answer. ¡°I really don¡¯t feel like doing anything.¡± That was a lie. She really felt like reading every little post that PumpkinKing made on Talkative until she was nauseous enough to force herself to sleep. But how could she explain that to Hannah?

    ¡°This should help!¡± her roomie insisted as she led the way out of the elevator. ¡°Get your mind off of stupid customers and stuff. No pushing your friends away when you feel bad.¡± Hannah¡¯s reminder only made Cat¡¯s chest ache, but she offered a toothless smile and fell in line anyway.

    Maybe Hannah was right. Pushing people away when she felt too much was a new habit she needed to break. Even if she felt some sort of weird heartbreak from a non-breakup with a dude that didn¡¯t have a real name.

    For a while, Cat could at least consider herself distracted from this sinking feeling in her chest. Sitting in the middle of the floor in a circle with Cam, Peter, Hannah, and Kelsey did soften the pangs, even just a little. Cam was already halfway into complaining about mixed signals from whoever he now tried to sleep with by the time all the girls showed up. Kelsey brought solo cups, and Cam, loudly protesting that the person with the ¡°objectively worst day out of everyone here¡± should not be the one to pour everyone drinks, unearthed Peter¡¯s slightly-alarming hidden alcohol, including a six pack, the bottle of rum from Halloween, and a small handle of vodka. It took Cat a while to get out of her head, so she never fully listened to whatever Cam complained about.

    They sat in a circle on the floor, toasted to a saint none of them were educated enough to celebrate, and broke the night in with ¡°shots¡± of vodka from their cups. Somehow, they let Cam talk them into filling their cups with rum immediately after.

    As usual, they went in a circle to complain about their day, their teachers, their homework, the passive-aggressive texts from old friends and family to hang out more (at least for Hannah).

    ¡°Wanna talk about your day?¡± she asked, finally looking to Cat. She was the last person to go, but she sighed and shook her head.

    ¡°Nothing big, just work.¡±

    Kelsey frowned. ¡°You seem down.¡± But Cat wasn¡¯t going to even begin to explain anything about her mood. She shrugged.

    ¡°Just one of those days¡­.¡± She ignored Peter¡¯s exasperated sigh. It was none of his business why she was in a bad mood.

    ¡°Distraction?¡± Kelsey asked. Cat shrugged. ¡°Okay, so let¡¯s play...Never Have I Ever,¡± she suggested as she settled into a cross-legged position. Cam pshed her idea.

    ¡°It¡¯d be more challenging if we had to do it about each other.¡± He gestured to everyone. ¡°I can easily spot when someone is lying about something.¡± Although Cat fought the urge, Kelsey rolled her eyes.

    ¡°You can¡¯t do Never Have I Ever at someone.¡±

    ¡°Sure you can! Watch.¡± Cameron shifted himself to look at Peter. ¡°Never have you ever...gone skiing.¡± Peter stared at him with a raised brow.

    ¡°But I have gone skiing,¡± he corrected. ¡°I used to go every year.¡± Surprise, Cat thought sarcastically.

    ¡°Okay! I was wrong, so I take a drink.¡± And he did.

    ¡°Oh,¡± Kelsey sounded, ¡°so if you were right, then he does.¡±

    ¡°Exactly!¡±

    ¡°Okay! I want to start for realzies.¡± She adjusted herself back and forth like an excited puppy.

    ¡°I already did.¡±

    ¡°Oh. Then...go, Peter.¡± Kelsey scrunched her nose, but settled down. Cat, though, remained silent. This started to sound an awful lot like the Assumptions game from orientation¡­.

    Peter shrugged, seemingly unbothered. Maybe he didn¡¯t make the connection. ¡°Um...okay. Hannah, I assume you took...Sign Language in high school.¡±

    ¡°Omigod, I did!¡± She gulped her solo cup quickly, but waved her hand after her sip, recovering from her scrunched-up expression. ¡°But how did you guess that?¡±

    Peter glanced at Cat for a moment before answering. ¡°Because you don¡¯t understand when Cat and I speak Spanish, and in this state, those are the only two languages offered in public school, other than French--¡±

    ¡°I took French,¡± Cam announced. The group took a collective sigh.

    ¡°I feel like we all knew that innately,¡± said Cat. Cam didn¡¯t seem to get it, but no one filled him in on the stereotype he perfectly fit into. After a few chuckles, Hannah decided to think out loud as she considered her options of who to target.

    ¡°Cam,¡± she started with a sly grin, ¡°I bet you¡¯ve dated more than two people at once.¡± Cam sat perfectly still, then smiled very slowly.

    Stolen story; please report.

    ¡°Drink up.¡± The group took turns exchanging surprised glances. ¡°I¡¯m a serial monogamist, not polyamorous. And I don¡¯t date anymore!¡±

    ¡°Fuck me,¡± Hannah murmured into her cup.

    ¡°Been there, done that,¡± was Cameron¡¯s quick quip. Cat raised a finger for the group to hold their giggles, then pointed to Hannah, squinting.

    ¡°I swear that¡¯s exactly what you said about Cam when we first met.¡±

    "What!" He didn¡¯t seem to appreciate the joke being turned on him nearly as much, but Peter and Kelsey roared with laughter.

    The game stayed pleasant for quite a few rounds. Cat hadn¡¯t assumed anything correctly of anyone--though she didn¡¯t even dare ask Peter any questions--and no one seemed to get any on her if it didn¡¯t involve questions about school. It left her feeling lightheaded a lot sooner than she thought she would. Everyone else seemed to have a leg-up on her. How was she supposed to know she just looked like the kind of person that did her homework the day it was assigned rather than the day it was due? That sort of unnecessary stress never made sense to her. Plus, Cam, Kelsey, and Hannah knew each other last year, and Cam and Peter were roommates--

    Cat finally gestured to Kelsey. She was confident about this one: ¡°Never have you ever,¡± she started, ¡°been dumped.¡±

    ¡°Oh!¡± Kelsey seemed to realize that at the same time, and started to giggle as she took her sip of the rum. ¡°I guess I¡¯ve always been the dumper!¡± Though as the others laughed, Cat watched Peter take an unprompted sip of his Solo cup out of the corner of her eye. Oh yeah, they ¡°saw¡± each other for a little bit. Cat stifled a short laugh. It was nice to get something right for the first time in the night and bruise Peter¡¯s ego. For a brief moment, she had to admit that Hannah was right (as usual): Feeling depressed was even more of a reason to surround herself with her friends.

    ¡°Okay!¡± Kelsey continued when she was done, ¡°Okay! So Peter: I think¡­.¡± She squinted for a second, oblivious to the annoyed expression he seamlessly smoothed away in a second. ¡°I think you haven¡¯t actually been asked out by a guy, like officially, and for serious, before!¡± Cat chuckled at her fumble, then burst into a much heartier laugh when Peter very slowly turned to face Cameron.

    ¡°I¡¯m joking,¡± said Peter, cracking a smile. The group laughed when Cam seemed confused.

    ¡°Really? I could¡¯ve sworn I--¡±

    ¡°Repeatedly insisting that if I was ¡®curious¡¯, you¡¯d ¡®be down¡¯, does not constitute asking me out.¡± The girls doubled over with their various hacking sounds, and for a second, Cat couldn¡¯t fully catch her breath.

    ¡°You killed Cat!¡± Hannah wheezed, pointing as she curled into a ball on the floor.

    Cameron was fast: ¡°She¡¯s got eight more lives!¡± And maybe if she¡¯d not heard that joke a million times before, she¡¯d join Hannah in the fetal position gasping for air, but instead she took everyone¡¯s laughter at the newest joke as a quick moment to recover, and used her empty hand to start to fan her face. The rum was starting to hit everyone, at least. Not just her.

    ¡°Okay, okay,¡± Kelsey said slowly through slow breaths and occasional giggles. ¡°Okay. Peter, go.¡±

    ¡°Right,¡± he remembered, his dimples still punctuating where his smile was. ¡°Um¡­.¡± He glanced around the group for a quick second, then finally, maybe for the first time in the night, actually looked at Cat. Her heart stopped. ¡°Never have you ever...been in love.¡± She waited for him to add anything to that, but he stared her in the eyes, almost challenging. Cat furrowed her brows together.

    ¡°I...what?¡± Maybe she didn¡¯t hear him right. It took her a little while to sit up from laughing, and maybe the blood was still rushing back down from her face. But Peter remained still, almost stoic.

    ¡°Oh, fuck,¡± Hannah sounded, her voice far away now. Now Cat realized that she heard him correctly.

    Cam let out a single laugh. ¡°That was a face journey, if I¡¯ve ever seen one.¡±

    ¡°Are you--asking if--are you saying--¡± Cat shut her eyes for a moment to try and get the words out in the right order. ¡°Are you saying no one has ever loved me before?¡± When she opened her eyes, Peter squinted.

    ¡°No, that¡¯s not what I said.¡±

    Kelsey¡¯s voice sounded like she was behind a glass barrier. ¡°Let¡¯s play a different game!¡±

    ¡°Just that--just that I haven¡¯t loved anyone?¡± Cat clarified anyway. ¡°Like, I¡¯m incapable of love?¡± Her lip curled in disgust as she said it, and Peter rolled his eyes, obviously, in front of everyone as Cam and Kelsey started throwing out game suggestions. They were desperate, even suggesting Go Fish without the cards. Hannah reached into the center of their circle for the bottle of rum.

    ¡°Well, have you, then?¡± Peter¡¯s question made her cup feel very heavy, even though there wasn¡¯t very much in it now. His eyes were still sharp, keeping her focus directly on him while her mind shuffled through various excuses. Thoughts of PumpkinKing came close, but fizzled away with a sharp, sobering pang, even when she tried to focus on them; Peter¡¯s gaze was just too intense, offering her no room to think. After a moment of chewing on her lip, she tensely raised her cup to her lips to try and chase away the bad taste his question left on her tongue. She wasn¡¯t very certain of her answer; and to her mutual panic and relief, saying he was right felt almost like a lie¡­so she didn¡¯t actually take a swig.

    She lowered her cup, steeled. ¡°Why do you assume that?¡± Her cup crinkled a bit, the loudest sound in the room to shock everyone into silence.

    All signs of smiles were gone, but Peter still looked genuine, his brows knitted together as if his motivation was so transparent.

    ¡°You have such a big wall up, you¡¯d need a sledge hammer to crack it.¡± What? Cat gaped like a fish. Why did he sound angry, like he¡¯d been holding these words for as long as he refused to look at her? Was this because of yesterday?

    ¡°I do not--I¡¯m--" She would have looked away if she could gather the strength, but the rum made her eyes too heavy to move. ¡°I¡¯m cautious! I was--at the party, I--¡± Peter snorted. Her cup crinkled in her hand again, bending to her fist.

    ¡°Your walls were well up far before that happened.¡± If this pissed him off so much, why did he wait until now? Why did he just yell at her like this?

    Cat grit her teeth. ¡°You were there--you--I was--!¡± Before he could shove that away, she pointed at him. ¡°I--and you were--¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± he said with a far too confident tone for her to believe she made a difference in his opinion. After she failed to continue saying anything else, Peter continued. ¡°The only time you¡¯ve ever shown any vulnerability is when you¡¯re barely conscious. Yeah. I¡¯d say it¡¯s easy to guess you¡¯ve never loved anyone.¡± The rim of her cup warped with the rest of the plastic. It took a while to get there, but her stomach finally caught on fire from his words. She had a hard time showing vulnerability? It didn¡¯t take blacking out for someone to find out she had a brother!

    ¡°You¡¯re one to talk!¡± Her voice wavered. ¡°J-just because I¡¯m like that around you, doesn¡¯t mean that--¡± Her voice trailed off without anything constructive to add. Peter gestured like his thought process was obvious, revealing his frustration in every exaggerated gesture.

    ¡°You¡¯re too sarcastic and defensive to ever let anyone in!¡±

    ¡°No,¡± she interrupted, shutting her eyes for a moment. ¡°No, you¡¯re just a dick, so I¡¯m like that around you!¡±

    ¡°Are you going with that now?¡±

    Her thoughts swirled too slowly, unable to actually come up with any real answer. ¡°I don¡¯t have to explain myself to you!¡±

    ¡°Yet here you are.¡±

    ¡°I bet you haven¡¯t been in love, either!¡± Her legs begged to just get up and take off, but she waited. Maybe she could get him to take it all back, to say he was wrong, or prove that he was just deflecting--

    ¡°Take a drink, because like about almost everything else tonight, you¡¯re wrong.¡± Her face grew even warmer.

    ¡°You¡¯re not capable,¡± she spat without anything else to go off of. She couldn¡¯t look at him anymore, the way he just stared at her, full of the fire she was so used to being in control of. Her words didn¡¯t make any sense, didn¡¯t offer any defense, and his just aimed and chipped at her newest wound.

    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t even know what to look for. You just throw tantrums like a child.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re--you--¡± Frustration overcame her, and before she could even register that she did it, the sound of her cup bouncing onto the floor with the trickle of rum streaming off Peter¡¯s face joining suit. He kept his eyes shut, lips tight.

    ¡°Demonstrating my point,¡± he said tersely. A hand reached up to ensure there wasn¡¯t any rum on his eyelid.

    Cat¡¯s voice exploded from her throat, desperate: ¡°You don¡¯t know anything about me!¡±

    He scoffed. ¡°You work really hard to keep everyone at arm¡¯s length!¡± PumpkinKing jumped to the forefront of her mind yet again, how easily he just dropped her after everything. Because she wouldn¡¯t even let him know her name. ¡°But despite your best attempt, no, Cat, I know you quite well!¡±

    Her hands shook, her chest ached. Why was he saying all of this? Could he read her mind after all? ¡°J-just leave me the fuck alone!¡±

    ¡°I would, but you¡¯re in my room.¡± As if she just realized this, herself, Cat shoved against the floor to rise to her feet.

    ¡°You¡¯re such a p-piece of shit!¡± was the last thing she was able to yell at him before she spun around to stumble to the door.

    Hannah¡¯s face was in her hands as she muttered, ¡°Oh my god, Peter¡­.¡±

    But Peter had the last word. Right as Cat stepped out to let the door slam behind her, she heard Peter¡¯s voice, sour: ¡°She¡¯s just going to let that bounce off of her just like everything else.¡±

 Chapter 50

    At least she didn¡¯t feel like crying until she shut the door to her dorm room. But she ached, no matter how hard she wrapped her arms around herself. Her face was too warm, and she was fairly certain, by the time the tears started, that the rum had fully absorbed into her system. Walking into the elevator and out of it was like night and day. The ache from her heart shocked her into some semblance of sobriety, and now she had to deal with this awful feeling fully coherent.

    It didn¡¯t take long for Hannah to show up in their dorm behind her, and attack her with a hug.

    ¡°Talk to me,¡± she said as Cat wiped at her face. Cat initially intended to brush her off, to ask her for time alone, but she hesitated. Maybe it took being hit over the head with a frying pan for her to fully internalize what everyone was telling her, but it finally stuck. Peter¡¯s outburst was exactly like Kelsey¡¯s, Cam¡¯s, and Hannah¡¯s, except Peter stopped them from confronting her like that in the first place.

    Cat sniffled and took a step back from Hannah, her face contorted in concentration.

    ¡°I--I think¡­.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s a dick,¡± Hannah interrupted as she outstretched a hand to lay on her roomie¡¯s shoulder. ¡°I don¡¯t know what that was--it was out of line, and--¡±

    ¡°I think we¡¯re friends,¡± Cat blurted out, her voice high in a question. Hannah froze, confused.

    ¡°Of course we¡¯re friends?¡± she answered, shaking her head.

    ¡°No--I mean, yes, we¡¯re friends. But I think Peter and I are friends.¡± Hannah recoiled, blinking wildly.

    ¡°What in the fuck are you talking about?¡± she asked. ¡°Were you dropped on your head as a baby? Did you get spanked in public or something? What is this--?¡± Hannah¡¯s reaction made absolute sense, but Cat hushed her with a hand and wiped the last tear from under her eye.

    ¡°You and Cam and Kelsey were going to say the exact same thing to me earlier this year.¡± A hint of recognition flashed in Hannah¡¯s expression.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± she said, her voice softening. ¡°But he stopped us because it wasn¡¯t going to help.¡± Cat twisted around to hop onto her bed, kicking off her shoes as she did so. ¡°So he¡¯s feeling shut out and him confronting you about it is okay?¡± It was a joke, but Cat didn¡¯t return her smile.

    She hesitated a moment, before saying, ¡°The guy I was talking to ghosted me.¡± From shock to pity, Hannah¡¯s expression evolved until she approached slowly and put a hand on Cat¡¯s knee.

    ¡°Oh, Cat¡­. I¡¯m sorry. I know you really liked him.¡± But her tone was still questioning, as if hoping to prompt Cat to keep going.

    ¡°I never told him my name,¡± she continued with a deep breath. ¡°And he just...gave up.¡± She finally met Hannah¡¯s gaze. ¡°I didn¡¯t have a bad day. I just haven¡¯t spoken to him since Thursday and¡­.¡±

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you say anything?¡± Cat frowned, pursing her lips to try and convey the irony that Hannah just pointed out. Hannah sighed. ¡°So your theory is that Peter knew you were keeping a secret from us.¡± Well--that wasn¡¯t the only one. No one knew she went to therapy, either. Or got tutoring.

    The nightmare from before flashed in her mind, the visual of Peter saying he knew her better than anyone. Oh, God. That was true. He did. You just...let people go. I know more about you than your closest friends. Than your family, even. Cat sighed and took her phone out of her dress pocket, staring at it for a brief moment before she set it down on her bedspread.

    Yesterday, Peter tried to acknowledge her art project, and she just...yelled at him instead. Bit him with venomous words that she couldn¡¯t even stop from materializing.

    ¡°I guess he does know me well,¡± she murmured quietly.

    ¡°Which is weird,¡± Hannah said with a lighter tone, ¡°because if he died, I¡¯d immediately think you did it.¡± Cat grimaced. Didn¡¯t she get it?

    ¡°Just because I yell at him all the time doesn¡¯t mean I hate him.¡± Cat still stared at her phone. Maybe it wasn¡¯t too late with PumpkinKing.

    ¡°I¡¯m confused,¡± Hannah admitted. But after a few minutes of silence, she continued. ¡°That one time you were Skyping with your family and your mom kept calling your dad a ¡®dumb bastard¡¯--your parents weren¡¯t fighting, were they?¡± Cat blinked, and looked up to Hannah with wide eyes.

    ¡°No! God, did you think they¡¯d Skype me while they¡¯re fighting? God¡­.¡± Though now that Hannah said this, things started to slowly come together. Hannah let out a long ¡°oooooh¡± or relief.

    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    ¡°This entire time, I thought your parents hated each other! And that maybe Peter reminded you of that or something so you just took it all out on him!¡±

    ¡°No, I just make fun of him because he reacts--¡±

    ¡°And because that¡¯s how you flirt!¡± Right as Hannah said this, Cat started to choke on her spit, but she couldn¡¯t gather enough breath to spit out any words. ¡°Does Peter know that? No wonder!¡±

    ¡°I--¡± Cat continued sputtering, now fully covering her mouth with her arm. Tears welled in her eyes as she tried to speak and gasp for air at the same time, but Hannah stepped back as if she¡¯d just gone to church for the first time and met God.

    ¡°Holy crap, you think that¡¯s how couples talk!¡± her roomie continued, turning away. ¡°You¡¯re so fucked up from your parents¡¯ banter that you think that¡¯s normal!¡±

    ¡°St--I don¡¯t--shut--!¡± Cat gasped for air once her coughing fit finished, pointing to her roommate as she clutched her chest. ¡°I didn¡¯t say any of that!¡±

    Hannah whirled around with a gasp, hands covering her mouth like she held back exciting news.

    ¡°Oh. My. God, Cat!¡± Oh boy. She knew what the next logical jump was.

    Cat slipped off of her bed to point directly in Hannah¡¯s face as she said, ¡°If you say one more goddamn thing, I¡¯m going to punch you so hard in the mouth--!¡±

    ¡°Caaaaat!¡± Hannah slapped her hand away and motioned for a hug, her smile bigger than she¡¯d ever seen it. ¡°I love you, too!¡± And before she could push her away, Hannah threw her arms around her for another tight, unwelcome hug.

    ¡°Shut up, you fucking idiot--!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re so sweet!¡±

    ¡°Hannah!¡± But her blonde friend was surprisingly strong, and would not be shoved away. ¡°Get the fuck off of me--¡±

    ¡°Every time you said something mean, I thought you were trying to be funny or that you were hiding that you were mad or something!¡± Finally, she let go. ¡°But this whole time, you¡¯re just saying the opposite of what you actually feel--!¡±

    ¡°Shut up, that¡¯s not how that works!¡± Suddenly out of breath, Cat stepped back until her back hit her mattress. ¡°I don¡¯t--I don¡¯t speak like Opposite Day or anything, I mean it when I call you a fucking idiot--!¡± But her words fell on deaf ears, and Hannah retreated to her bed to jump on it and bounce like a child.

    ¡°What insults do you call that guy on Talkative? Dickhead? Toe-jam?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t call him anything!¡± But as she said it, Cat¡¯s eyes drifted to her phone. She never called him any consistent insults. She just took every opportunity to make fun of him and challenge him. Oh, God. She jumped on her bed again and crawled to her pillow to shove her face in it. She pulled up the sides to cover her ears while Hannah droned on about something else, until finally there was more than a minute of silence. Cat looked up to her roommate, who had her phone in her hands, texting. Cat gasped.

    ¡°If you tell them anything--!" Hannah looked up at her, eyes wide.

    ¡°Oh. Um.¡± She glanced down, then clearly hit the delete button at least thirty times. ¡°Right. Um. Well, are you ready to come back? It¡¯s only nine.¡± Cat sighed.

    ¡°I¡¯m¡­.¡± Exhausted. But she looked at her phone again, mashing her lips together. ¡°Gunna stay here.¡±

    ¡°Would you be insulted if I went back and kept playing games? I still feel a buzz.¡± How, after all of this? Cat shrugged, then waved.

    ¡°Just don¡¯t...tell them...anything.¡± She sounded defeated even to her own ears.

    ¡°Fine!¡± Hannah shrugged, flashed a knowing smile, then bounced to the door.

    After a full moment of silence, Cat finally adjusted herself to lay on her bed, phone in hand. She couldn¡¯t control whatever Hannah did--as much as that pissed her off--but maybe...she could get some closure.

    She opened Talkative and navigated to her messages, heart hammering in her chest. Maybe she was still under the influence of the rum, but she knew if she didn¡¯t write anything out now, she¡¯d never do it.

    Hey, she wrote. So that last date was kind of weird because I was totally in the wrong headspace¡­. I was hoping maybe I could get a re-do, if you¡¯re still interested?

    There. She put herself out there. That was the only message she was going to send. If he replied--oh, he was online? Almost immediately, she got the notification he was typing.

    ! hey! was his initial response. Tbh I thought you were letting me down easy¡­. What? Cat sent him a question mark. You didn¡¯t message me at all, and you didn¡¯t sound like you wanted to talk after all that¡­

    Cat sat up on her bed, suddenly lightheaded. I thought you were ghosting me.

    No! he responded immediately. No, I would never ghost you lol I thought you knew I liked you?

    Oh, she could cry. This whole day could have been avoided if she just messaged him? But then again, he could have messaged her.

    Omg. Cat laughed out loud to herself and let a grin take over her features. I thought you got bored of me or whatever because I wouldn¡¯t let you know my name or something.

    That¡¯s on you ;) Pumpkin replied.

    For the record, she started, I do want to eventually meet you.

    Maybe within this decade?

    Omg scandalous! she wrote. Take it slow, Romeo!

    Her heart still ached just a little bit, even after the jolt of excitement of talking to Pumpkin again. The relief coursed through her veins, pure and sweet.

    Pumpkin offered a compromise. Maybe our next date could be a voice call? Then you can hear that my voice modifier is really good and that I probably am not an old man. Cat awarded him with a laughing reaction.

    It¡¯s going to be so romantic when we both turn out to be bald 70-year-olds trying to catfish each other. Her cheeks started to get sore from grinning so wide. When are you free?

    If we do a voice date, it¡¯ll give me time to get a toupee shipped to me so at least one of us can have hair when we meet in person. Now her stomach hurt from laughing! Idk, my work is crazy this week and then there¡¯s spring break next week. Are you free at all spring break, or are you working?

    Half working, half seeing family. Maybe the week after?

    Okay :) Let me know when you¡¯re free and it¡¯s a date.

    Tuesday?

    Tuesday. Can¡¯t wait to hear your voice <3

 Chapter 51

    Even though Hannah returned relatively quietly in the wee hours of the morning, Cat was still awake. She thought about pretending to be asleep, mostly to try and will herself to actually go unconscious, but Hannah¡¯s sniffles made her freeze. She¡¯d been so wrapped up in her own thoughts of Peter that she almost missed it.

    ¡°Hannah?¡± she called softly in the darkness. Hannah shuffled a bit, slipping out of her shoes, as Cat leaned over a bit to flick on the light. Her roommate jumped and spun around, hand at her nose to wipe away the snot and tears. ¡°Are you okay?¡±

    The brilliant blue of her eyes were just highlighted from the angry swelling of her face--though, that didn¡¯t seem to be the only problem. She swayed a little, and hiccuped. Was this the crying drunk Hannah she was promised at the beginning of the year? Or did Peter¡¯s wrath continue tonight? A flash of anger joined the anxiety that knotted her stomach so tightly.

    Hannah let out a small whine. ¡°Oh no, I woke up the Kit--hic--Cat!¡± Cat grunted as she sat up in her bed, to show that she was already awake, and stared at her roommate.

    ¡°I was already awake. What happened?¡± She pulled her legs to criss-cross, and patted her bed for Hannah to sit; she didn¡¯t hesitate, and made a running-jump to bounce directly next to Cat. If she hadn¡¯t moved her legs just a fraction of a second before that, Hannah might have broken something.

    ¡°Th-the s-s-s-s-store,¡± she started, wiping her face, ¡°d-d-d-doesn¡¯t have popcorn bags left!¡± Cat blinked, uncertain of what to do at this point, but still lay a hand on Hannah¡¯s knee as a way to comfort her. ¡°A-a-and then I was thinkin¡¯--¡± She let out a loud, snotty sniff-- ¡°that it¡¯s so stupid of--hic--that¡¯s so stupid of me to be sad about, ¡¯cause, like, someone else needed that popcorn!¡± Her voice got higher and higher the more she spoke. Cat waited for something a little more important to happen, for Hannah to bring up literally anything else, but she continued. ¡°The guy--the guy at the counter, was all, ¡¯Are you a¡¯crying? Can you not?¡ä Well, not like--he didn¡¯t--speak it like that. But he, like, asked, and then I was like, ¡®Oh no, I¡¯m drunk,¡¯ and he was all, ¡®I can tell,¡¯ and then I was all--hic--I was all sad and embarrassed and I ran out, but I never got a snack--¡± Another sob bubbled up in Hannah¡¯s throat. ¡°And I¡¯m still snacky!¡± She covered her face, now, and spoke into her palms. Cat got about every other word, but it seemed to be something along the lines of how lots of people felt snacky and didn¡¯t get any food, and then all of a sudden, Hannah¡¯s hand fell and she snapped to Cat, seemingly horrified. ¡°And like you probably want a snack, too, but you¡¯re like, ¡®Nah, I¡¯m too cool for a snack¡¯ and that probably means you want one more!¡± Had Hannah not just been crying about popcorn, Cat may have thought that this was all some elaborate metaphor for something else. But instead she sighed, glanced to the clock on the dresser, and patted Hannah¡¯s knee. It was too late (or early?) to try and figure this out. Hannah needed water, rest, and obviously a snack-themed distraction from whatever actually got her started crying.

    Cat gave a small smile to her friend. ¡°Are you still feeling snacky?¡± she asked instead. Hannah hiccuped. ¡°I have some sour gummy worms in my desk that I need help finishing.¡± Hannah¡¯s eyes went wide.

    ¡°I haven¡¯t had gummy worms in so long¡­.¡± She sniffled again. ¡°Are you sure y-you want to share them¡­?¡± Cat nodded.

    ¡°Definitely. You got me thinking about snacks, and those are my favorite snacks to share.¡± She gestured to her top drawer of her desk where the bag was, and Hannah immediately scrambled over the side of the bed to grab them.

    ¡°Omigod, Cat--!¡± She let out a grunt as she returned to a seated position on the bed, her prize in hand. ¡°You¡¯re literally the best person ever to ever be.¡± Hardly a moment passed before she ripped open the bag to grab a handful and shove them in her mouth. Cat giggled.

    ¡°If I could be half as good a friend as you are to me, that might be the case.¡± She grabbed a couple worms for herself, and watched Hannah¡¯s face contort from the sour and tart flavors that mixed together. Her mouth full, she let out a small complaint, obviously about how she didn¡¯t expect it to be such a strong flavor. The two shared a few laughs when she recovered, and she let out a sigh.

    ¡°You¡¯re the best. I¡¯ma pass out now.¡±

    ¡°Goodni--oh--¡± She didn¡¯t think Hannah meant that she would pass out on her bed. But Hannah immediately toppled over and grasped for one of Cat¡¯s knees to use as a pillow, and nestled into it like a cat in a pillow.

    ¡°Not moving. G¡¯night.¡± Well, then. At least she let Cat adjust herself so that she could lay down again. Hannah curled into a ball at her hip, leaving her with very little space, but at least it was something.

    Her roommate¡¯s interruption didn¡¯t offer any clearer thoughts on what kept her up until now anyway. All Cat could bring herself to admit, even in her head, was that she was exactly where she was before that awful party last year. Well--maybe not exactly. Maybe now everything felt a little more intense, burned a little hotter. And even though she was now back on with Pumpkin, it didn¡¯t mean Peter suddenly disappeared, even though that would make things a little easier.

    Pumpkin was easy to talk to. He was funny, smart, sweet. He had a passion for learning new things, and he walked on the very thin line of wanting to know everything about her and keeping his distance at her request. Had they met in person before online, she¡¯d have no doubt that they would have hit it off perfectly. He could keep up with her--and that was no small feat. Cat wasn¡¯t blind to how she came off, so for someone to look past her sarcasm and everything, it was huge. And above all else, even after the months of talking and even a couple without, her stomach still jumped at the thought of him. She still found herself, even with Hannah grabbing onto her hip and drooling into it right now, shoving her face in her pillow to hide her smile just from simply thinking about him.

    Admittedly, it was a little hard to have all of this contained to a phone. If she didn¡¯t have that app, there wouldn¡¯t be anything between them at all. And with Peter always being around, confusing her--ugh.

    Maybe she and Peter had...something. Maybe his prickly nature was like hers, just a barbed wire fence to keep people at bay, and they butt heads because of it. And just because she tried to hold him at arm¡¯s length didn¡¯t mean she was very good at it. Cat sighed. Fine, she thought to herself as she finally started to fade to sleep. She could admit that sometimes her stomach aches around him were from butterflies, too.

    It didn¡¯t matter, though. As long as she didn¡¯t completely mess things up with Pumpkin, it wasn¡¯t like she was going to do anything about it anyway. Admitting the tiniest bit of feelings didn¡¯t hurt anyone. Nothing had changed.

    Monday flew by so fast, Cat hardly had any time to even see Hannah. Between actually attending her English class workshop, her three-hour long communications class, and closing Jittery Joe¡¯s, she hardly had time to sit to eat. Breakfast granola bar, burrito for lunch, and no time for dinner.

    When she shut her dorm room door behind her that night, she didn¡¯t expect Hannah to be sitting in her pajamas, waiting like a disappointed parent.

    ¡°Oh--hi,¡± Cat blurted, raising a brow. ¡°Everything okay?¡± She dumped her stuff at the foot of her bed and continued getting ready to go to sleep, but Hannah hesitated.

    ¡°I was going to ask you the same thing. You haven¡¯t been replying to the group chat.¡± Cat let out a loud groan.

    ¡°Work was insane,¡± she started as she stepped out of her dress and into her pajamas. ¡°Everyone¡¯s pulling all-nighters for midterms this week, so they¡¯re all getting coffee and making the store busy, and for some stupid reason, my manager thought it was a great idea to cut everyone¡¯s hours, so I was by myself for most of the time!¡± Cat released the pressure in her chest by venting to her roommate all the way until she was curled up in bed, plugging in her phone. ¡°...and this stupid lady was like, ¡®Why did you put chocolate in my mocha? I¡¯m allergic!¡¯ Like, bitch, do you know what¡¯s in a mocha? It¡¯s chocolate coffee!¡±

    ¡°What a fucking idiot,¡± Hannah groaned, though her tone wasn¡¯t as sincere as it normally was. Cat finally looked up from her phone.

    ¡°Anyway. What¡¯s up with you?¡± She flicked to the group chat on her phone and scanned it quickly to see if she¡¯d missed anything, but nothing looked out of the ordinary. Hannah¡¯s hesitation was making her nervous.

    ¡°Well, I mean, we just didn¡¯t hear from you, is all. I thought maybe you were still upset about yesterday.¡± Cat¡¯s gaze snapped up to her roommate¡¯s. Was that it? Was the reason that there wasn¡¯t anything strange in the group chat because they all talked about her in one she wasn¡¯t included in?

    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

    ¡°I¡¯m--I¡¯m not,¡± she admitted. It seemed to surprise Hannah as much as it did, her. ¡°I was legitimately busy today. I¡¯m fine, though. I promise.¡± Hannah pursed her lips, regarding her carefully. ¡°Though I wasn¡¯t the one that came in crying about popcorn¡­.¡±

    ¡°Is that what I cried about?¡± Hannah realized with a gasp. ¡°I couldn¡¯t remember! I thought it was about your gummy worms or something.¡±

    ¡°No, you were upset the store was out of popcorn.¡± The girls shared a laugh, but Hannah wasn¡¯t finished.

    ¡°Anyway--um, so you say you¡¯re not upset about last night?¡± Cat nodded. ¡°¡¯Cause Peter is um--¡±

    ¡°How the Hell is he mad?¡± she interrupted. Well, she wasn¡¯t upset until now--

    ¡°He¡¯s not mad!¡± Cat clamped her mouth shut. ¡°He¡¯s feeling super guilty.¡± Oh. Well, then. Just as fast as the anger ignited, it sizzled away with a smile. ¡°Don¡¯t look so pleased!¡±

    Cat laughed with her. ¡°Well, he should feel guilty!¡± She plopped her head on the pillow to stare at the ceiling. ¡°He was being really mean.¡± Hannah reached over to flick off the light, and sighed.

    ¡°Whatever, just don¡¯t, like, make it all weird for the rest of us by torturing him or something.¡±

    ¡°That all depends on how he acts.¡±

    ¡°God, you¡¯re both such children.¡± If it wasn¡¯t so dark, Hannah would have absolutely seen that Cat stuck her tongue out at her.

    <hr>

    The moment of truth came to tutoring. Pre-calc was a review class, prepping for the midterm that would take place on Thursday. As if Cat¡¯s stomach wasn¡¯t already in constant pain from the recent events. Now she had to add stress of school on top of a crappy work environment and an overactive pituitary gland.

    It would have been better if she had any time to talk to Pumpkin, but it seemed like their schedules mirrored one another. So now her guaranteed stress relief was off suffering through group projects and work whenever she had a moment to fully connect to him. It was like a bad addiction; now that she got him back, it hurt her chest to not have a piece of him, constantly lighting up her phone, to not have any idea what he was thinking about right now.

    And as for right now¡­

    Cat approached Peter¡¯s table, slow and quiet. He must have had a presentation today or something. She hadn¡¯t seen him wear slacks since he repaired phones, but now he had them on, and even an eggplant-colored button-up casually untucked, sleeves rolled up to the elbows. One hand drummed the table while the other held his phone, purposefully avoiding looking at her as she approached; it would have been annoying if she didn¡¯t know in her core he was just doing it to avoid looking at her. He didn¡¯t even look up until she¡¯d lowered herself to her chair and set her book down in front of her.

    ¡°Hey,¡± she murmured. Peter clicked his phone¡¯s screen off and slowly looked up at her, dimples punctuating his grimace. He¡¯d even freshly shaved, she could tell, just from the slight, musky scent that came off of him.

    ¡°Um, hey.¡± Yikes, he was tense. But he didn¡¯t say anything, even though he looked like he was holding back a monologue. Cat slipped her notebook out of her bag; she moved carefully, as if anything sudden would crack whatever fragile shell Peter contained himself in.

    She opened her notebook to the last page she wrote on today as she said, ¡°So I¡¯m allowed an eight-and-a-half by eleven cheat sheet--¡± Peter interrupted her.

    ¡°Are you still mad about¡­?¡± She flicked her gaze up to him, squinting slightly.

    ¡°No,¡± she said honestly. ¡°I¡¯m over it. You?¡± He didn¡¯t look at her anymore.

    ¡°No, I was just--¡± But his words died in his throat.

    Cat sighed. If he was going to be like that, she didn¡¯t have time for it. There was only so much she could focus on at a time, and catering to his ego was not something she was even interested in at the moment. If he was serious about apologizing, or if he truly felt bad, he was going to have to be a little more prompt about it.

    ¡°Good, because this midterm--¡± She tapped her book to force him to look at her. ¡°If I don¡¯t get at least a B on it, I¡¯ll have to get a perfect score on the final to just pass the class.¡± Saying this seemed to get him to inch out of his mind for a moment.

    ¡°Right--well, you¡¯re going to be fine.¡± It took a moment, but he finally snapped back to the present with a sigh. She watched the gears shift in his eyes before he reached for her notebook to take a look at what happened in class just an hour ago. ¡°Let¡¯s see what he¡¯s throwing at you¡­.¡±

    <hr>

    No one complained to Cat that dinner was even more tense than usual. No one brought up Sunday at all, and no one blamed her for Peter being kind of quiet. She felt like she¡¯d successfully returned to normal, and aside from the occasional side-eye to Peter, Hannah fully backed Cat¡¯s attempt at pretending Sunday never happened in the first place. Things were okay.

    And since she¡¯d finished her English essay early, she was able to spend the entirety of Wednesday, except for a morning shift she swapped with Jeffrey, studying for her pre-calc midterm. Now, her evening was completely open, and she sat at her desk with all of her class notes and her book open to try and memorize every little detail the professor ever said.

    ¡°No work?¡± Hannah asked when she¡¯d returned from her own class.

    ¡°No, switched shifts with Jeffrey so I could study,¡± she answered without looking up. Hannah shut the dorm room door, and took the hint that now wasn¡¯t the time to vent about the girl in her biology class she sat next to.

    Cat had her cheat sheet perfected, color-coded, with a tiny legend in the corner in Peter¡¯s handwriting. Pink for theories. Orange for equations. Green for examples. She made fun of him for it last year, but his color system did help her remember things a little easier. She just never had such difficulty before this class, and never had to use it. She didn¡¯t have to tell him how much it helped, though.

    It was maybe nine PM before Cat remembered to blink. And just as the world came into focus, her phone started to buzz. She glanced down to it, half-annoyed, half-confused that someone would call her at this hour during midterms week. She knew where all her friends were, they all knew she preferred texting. Who was calling?

    She didn¡¯t know this number. With her heart in her throat, Cat raised the phone to her ear.

    ¡°Um, hello?¡±

    ¡°Oh! Oh, uh--sorry!¡± the voice on the other line blurted. Some kid. ¡°Is now an okay time to talk? I figured it would be, since you just--¡±

    ¡°Sorry, who¡¯s this?¡± Wrong number, maybe?

    ¡°Oh, oh! Sorry!¡± the guy continued. ¡°Um, it¡¯s Oscar. This is Catrina, right?¡± Cat¡¯s jaw dropped; she spun around in her chair to see Hannah staring at her, wide-eyed. Did she hear that? Was her phone volume up high enough that Hannah heard all of this?

    ¡°Oscar!¡± she repeated, mirroring Hannah¡¯s oh my god expression. ¡°Yes, yes. Um, I wasn¡¯t thinking you¡¯d call like...now¡­.¡± She wasn¡¯t thinking Peter would give out her goddamn phone number to sell this stupid lie.

    ¡°Right!¡± Oscar gave a nervous laugh, and Cat rose from her chair to gather her class notes into a pile. ¡°I just, honestly, I didn¡¯t think you were real.¡± They shared a laugh through the phone, and Hannah covered her mouth to muffle herself. With her notes in a pile, she shoved them into her book to mark her place and shut it before she reached for her bag.

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s fair,¡± Cat said distantly. ¡°Is now okay for you to talk? Like are you...in public or¡­¡°? Are you around your asshole father? she wanted to ask.

    ¡°Oh, no. I¡¯m just...in my room. Chilling.¡± God, he was such an awkward teenager. Cat rolled her eyes.

    ¡°Okay, cool. Can I call you back in like, five minutes? I was just finishing something.¡±

    ¡°Sure!¡±

    ¡°Okay, bye.¡± The minute Cat hung up, Hannah tried to start her interrogation. Cat cut her off, her bag and book in hand. ¡°Yeah, apparently Peter had a hard time selling the whole thing to Oscar, so he gave out my number like a fucking--anyway, I¡¯m going to go be a saint.¡± Hannah screeched, but Cat didn¡¯t wait for her to finish reacting, and instead headed out her dorm room door.

    Did this all actually work? Did Oscar really accept the friend request and talk to his brother? Wait, if Oscar didn¡¯t know that ¡°Catrina¡± was actually Peter, what did he know? How long had they been talking?

    Cat knocked on Peter¡¯s door, her phone in hand, and waited for him to answer it. The look of guilt on his face when he opened it answered any unasked question she might have had. Yeah, all of this just happened. He just didn¡¯t think his brother would actually call the number.

    ¡°So,¡± Cat started, shoving her way into the room, ¡°Hi, Cam.¡± She turned to Peter. ¡°I¡¯m going to study while you talk to Oscar. And, if I have any questions, you¡¯re going to answer them, when I have them. Deal?¡±

    ¡°It worked?¡± Cam blurted from his desk. ¡°Holy shit!¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Cat said. She didn¡¯t look at her friend, instead watched Peter¡¯s expression morph into shock. ¡°Apparently someone had a hard time selling that he was a girl, though, because Oscar just called me to make sure I was a real person.¡± Peter gaped like a fish as she set her stuff down on the floor. He didn¡¯t seem to have any words, so she raised her phone to her ear, watching him all the while.

    The phone hardly rang once; she was so caught up in watching Peter¡¯s eyes stare at her like a god, she almost forgot to respond to Oscar¡¯s greeting.

    ¡°Hey, Oscar,¡± she started slowly, ¡°now still a good time?¡± She waited a moment. ¡°I¡¯ve got to be honest with you.¡±

    ¡°O-okay,¡± the poor teenager answered.

    ¡°I¡¯m--¡± Now her stomach hurt again. ¡°I¡¯m not actually--¡± Oh, she couldn¡¯t do this when he kept looking at her. Cat spun around and covered her face with a hand. ¡°You weren¡¯t actually talking to me on Facebook. You were talking to a friend of mine that you know.¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡±

    She steeled herself, looking at the window. Through the blades of the blinds she could see Peter staring at the back of her head, waiting, still as a statue.

    ¡°So--my name¡¯s Cat. I go to Bay Area University¡­.¡±

    ¡°Oh--oh my God--is JP there? You¡¯re friends with JP, with Peter?¡± The excitement in his voice encouraged a smile from her, and she twisted around back to him.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± she said through a laugh. ¡°Would you like to talk to him?¡±

    ¡°Yeah--I mean, please! If you--that¡¯d be--!¡± Oscer was still babbling by the time Cat held her phone out to Peter. His hand trembled as he reached out for it; his heartbeat fluttered against the flesh of his neck, just above the small scar she saw last year.

    As Peter raised her phone to his ear, she watched the fear, the worry and nerves flood his features.

    ¡°Oscar?¡± And, in just one instant, warmth brightened his face. Relief so intense that Cat felt it in her own chest, as well. She stepped back to watch Peter melt into his chair, fully shaking, the rest of his greeting marked by a slight waver in his voice.

    Peter¡¯s nervous excitement was so intoxicating, Cat didn¡¯t realize that Cam stepped up next to her to hold out a hand for a high five.

    ¡°Score, Cat!¡± he whispered, grinning. ¡°We catfished Peter¡¯s little brother!¡± Um, ew.

 Chapter 52

    Was it, perhaps, a little naive and idealistic of Cat to think she¡¯d only be sitting on Peter¡¯s dorm room floor for about an hour? Perhaps.

    Did she have a right to be annoyed when the second hour of him using her phone to talk to his brother came and went? Maybe.

    Cat leaned against the dresser that served as end tables between the beds, letting one of the knobs dig right next to her spine where a muscle knot bothered her. Cameron had finished writing whatever essay he needed to write and moved to get into his bed. She could feel his stares when he hesitated, and she opened her eyes to look at him.

    ¡°Did you fall asleep?¡± he whispered to her under the excited chatter of his roommate.

    ¡°No,¡± Cat sighed. ¡°I was memorizing.¡± She wasn¡¯t, though. She was resting her eyes, just a little. Staring at her own handwriting and the tiny text of the book in front of her was making her head hurt. ¡°What time is it?¡±

    ¡°Eleven thirty,¡± Cam muttered. ¡°I can say something¡­.¡± He gestured to Peter, who sat in his chair and nodded vigorously to whatever his brother said on the other side of the phone.

    ¡°No, go to sleep. I¡¯m still studying,¡± she lied. She gave him a small smile, and he only shrugged. In the shameless Cam fashion, he stripped down to his boxers right in front of her, and crawled under the covers. He must have found it easy to drown out Peter¡¯s conversation. For the last hour or so, Peter and Oscar had switched to speaking in Spanish; though, from what Cat could tell, it wasn¡¯t because they spoke about anything intimate or secretive. It was a natural switch for them. And Peter was well aware that if he wanted any secrecy with his brother, he sat in front of the wrong audience. Though he kept typing into his phone at the same time as he spoke to Oscar, saying things like, ¡°I sent you a picture on Facebook. Did you get it?¡± Watching Peter type on his phone just made her want to use hers that much more. Maybe Pumpkin had sent her something while Peter hogged all her data.

    Cat did a pretty good job at not eavesdropping. It wasn¡¯t until she rewrote her cheat sheet for the third time that she could catch herself drifting from concentration. But even then, the boys spoke about memories, about Oscar¡¯s plans for college. Peter gave some solid advice, instructing his brother to sign up for mostly general classes and one major class for his first freshman semester. From the other bits she¡¯d accidentally listened to, she gathered that Peter had lived at home with them, attending community college, until he transferred here, primarily as a way to have a place to live.

    And she could piece together a few details that, despite the edge of guilt, made her feel quite vindicated. Between forcing herself to focus on these stupid theories in her lap to drown out Peter¡¯s voice and his gentle tones seeping into her brain anyway, she confirmed that Peter¡¯s first job was repairing cell phones, something he picked up in August to pay for textbooks and food while he lived on his scholarship at BAU. Her assumptions about him at the beginning weren¡¯t all completely baseless, just maybe a bit too exaggerated. Or perhaps she just didn¡¯t have the full story.

    He still was everything he was in September: snobby, privileged, holier-than-thou, argumentative, petty, stuck-up. But existing at the same time was a tender side he liked to keep locked away behind his sarcasm, a sweetness behind his prickish attitude. And all the pride she poked at, no matter how harsh, he kept up and jabbed right back, challenging the way she saw herself just as much.

    Perhaps a lesson learned from her whole experience with Peter was the simple realization that people could be more than one thing at once. He could drive her up the wall with just a single look, or disable her strongest defenses just by saying her name.

    ¡°Cat¡­.¡± Like that, with that exact tone. Like he had something important to tell her, but soft as if it was a secret. ¡°Cat.¡±

    ¡°I heard you the first time,¡± she muttered to herself. Did her brain think she needed a reminder?

    ¡°Well, you didn¡¯t answer.¡± Or, wait. Maybe that wasn¡¯t her brain. Was she dreaming?

    Her eyelids must have been ten pounds, they took so long to open. She breathed in the muffled mix of chlorine and detergent, and fought the urge to lean into the waves of relaxation and comfort that crashed over her.

    ¡°Five minutes.¡± Peter¡¯s laughter forced her to open her eyes. ¡°Oh, this is real?¡± It took a few blinks, but eventually the light from the ceiling lamp sharpened the edges around Peter¡¯s giant head right in front of her face.

    ¡°You fell asleep against my bed. Not even on it," he whispered with a dimpled smile. Her body took forever to get the memo. Partially propped up by the dresser, her head resting on his mattress with her arm added for support. In her other hand was her fifth copy of her cheat sheet, perfectly outlined and colorcoded, with added text stylization for different sections made strictly out of boredom. When she sat up and stretched her back out, it seemed like the knob of the dresser had successfully worked out the knot in her back--or, rather, moved it, because now it appeared on the other side of her spine.

    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°I was...memorizing.¡± Cat hid a yawn with the back of her hand, and slowly took inventory of the room. Cam fell asleep sprawled out like a starfish on his back, pillow over his head and one of his arms hanging out to the middle of the room. In her lap was only her cheat sheet; her notebook slipped off of her legs and splayed out beside her book, and her colored pens rolled around the room in a similarly messy way.

    ¡°Take your time,¡± Peter teased while she slowly reached for her belongings. He crouched in front of her, and scooted a few of her pens to her open hand.

    ¡°What time is it?¡± As she shoved her stuff into her bag, Peter handed her her phone. One in the morning? ¡°What the hell?¡± Five percent battery left, too?

    ¡°Shh.¡± Peter jabbed his thumb to Cam, but the guy didn¡¯t look distrubed at all. She shook her head.

    ¡°I don¡¯t see how he could sleep like that,¡± she whispered as she rose from the floor. Peter gave her a quizzical look. ¡°With his arm out like that. When I was a kid, I always thought about monsters.¡± She hesitated, then cracked a smile. ¡°And then when my brother was a kid, I¡¯d pull whatever limb he had hanging out so he was afraid of monsters.¡± Peter covered his mouth with his hand to stifle his laugh.

    ¡°My older brother used to do that to me, too.¡± Cat giggled as she bent down for her bag, and swung it with an ¡°oof¡± over her shoulder.

    ¡°And your little brother? How¡¯d that go?¡± Watching his eyes light up let her relive the moment he first heard Oscar¡¯s voice. Like his whole world just lit up, and God, Himself, descended from the sky to tell him everything was going to be alright.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you could tell it was¡­.¡± Peter seemed only satisfied to answer with a smile.

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t listening, actually. I was studying.¡± But it was really late, now. A lot later than she planned her bed time to be when she had to work right before her midterm. She wanted to do another quick review before work, but now...she probably wouldn¡¯t be able to get out of bed as early as she wanted.

    ¡°I saw you re-did your cheat sheet, like, fifty times.¡± She awarded him a quick laugh as she made her way to his door.

    ¡°I wanted it to be neater.¡± She knew the trick was to study whatever she didn¡¯t put on the cheat sheet, to be the most efficient with her time. But after the third hour straight of studying, things got very boring.

    Cat reached for the door knob, but something in her hesitated. It was as if Peter said her name, but she knew he was silent. Something about the way he froze a little, the way he paused, made her turn to look at him. His smile was gone, his eyes a hundred years away.

    ¡°What?¡± she whispered. Upon biting his lip, only one of his dimples showed. He looked like he was going to say something, but gave a quick glance back to Cameron. His arm wasn¡¯t out in the open for monsters to grab anymore. Maybe Peter took that as a sign that Cam was awake, now, because he suddenly switched to Spanish when he looked back to Cat.

    "Disc¨²lpame.¡± Forgive me. The gasp escaped her lips before she could even register his words. ¡±Por favor. Lo que dije el domingo¡­." Cat shook her head, searching for his eyes. But he stared at the floor.

    "What you said on Sunday¡­," she repeated in kind. He wouldn¡¯t look at her. How could he grab her heart like that with just his voice? How did he do it every time? ¡±I told you it¡¯s fine."

    "It wasn¡¯t."

    ¡°Peter.¡± For a brief moment, she wondered if she somehow borrowed his superpower, the one that constantly commanded her attention, because even though he looked like he¡¯d rather fall through the floor than be in front of her at that moment, she finally caught his gaze, soft. Pained.

    And before she could say anything more, he continued, ¡±I saw that what I said...hurt you. But I doubled down. I took it too far." Cat sighed.

    "I know that what you said came from¡­.¡± There weren¡¯t words for it. Not ones she knew in either of the languages she could speak. Or, rather, not words she was willing to say. ¡±I know what you were trying to say." She added, ¡±and anyway, it¡¯s not like I haven¡¯t said something twice as bad to you a hundred times over."

    "No,¡± he corrected firmly, nearly forgetting to whisper. ¡±You¡¯ve made me angry. But you¡¯ve never hurt me." Now she was the one to shrink in on herself, to drop her gaze. This was too much--this was too private to be displayed in front of Cam, even if he was actually asleep, even if he couldn¡¯t speak Spanish. Now, she couldn¡¯t help but hear Hannah echo in the back of her mind, You guys act all different when no one else is around. Fine. Maybe they did. Maybe it was because whenever someone else was around, it felt like they were just tainting the tight bubble that Peter had a way of wrapping around them with just his words.

    Cat swallowed thickly, then glanced up at him, just a little. ¡±And I know you regret it, and that you...don¡¯t want to¡­." Her throat ran dry, and he wasn¡¯t so focused on keeping eye contact anymore, exploring her face, finally resting on her lips. But this couldn¡¯t happen. Not a repeat of that tutoring session, with so many fewer barriers, with no phone alarm to interrupt them, no crowds of people to keep her rooted to where they were. It couldn¡¯t happen. Not now, not with Cam right over there--not with her date with Pumpkin coming up. Why was that so hard to remember all of a sudden?

    From the very depths of her gut, she was able to summon the strength to look away from him, to reach behind herself with a shaky hand for the door knob.

    "Anyway, I know you were--saying it as a friend, so¡­." Peter let out a single, quiet laugh.

    "If that¡¯s what it takes for you to admit we¡¯re friends, then I¡¯d hate to see what it would take to¡­." He trailed off, and shook his head when she gestured for him to keep going. His words didn¡¯t sound honest. ¡±I was trying to come up with something funny and I couldn¡¯t.¡±

    She chuckled anyway. ¡±That¡¯s because you¡¯re not funny."

    With another laugh, more bubbly this time, he said, ¡±Funnier than you." She wanted to say something back, but she just giggled, instead. ¡°Good luck on your midterm, Cat. You¡¯ll do great.¡± Back to English this time. She sobered, then pulled the door open to leave.

    ¡°Th-thanks. G¡¯night.¡±

 Chapter 53

    What would have happened if she just...stayed? What if she didn¡¯t look away, didn¡¯t go to leave Peter¡¯s room just now? The thoughts followed Cat all the way until she tucked herself into bed, and kept her up far longer than she wanted to admit. Would he have kept staring at her, kept leaning closer? Would she have let him close the gap, press his lips against hers? Cat certainly didn¡¯t think she¡¯d stop him if it started¡­.

    Ugh, she was a terrible person. That much she had figured out by the time she wore an apron and handed coffee to other midterm-plagued people the next day. She spent so much energy thinking about these stupid what-ifs, when she got sweet messages from a guy she knew she liked, knew liked her back, who acted like it all the time and not just whenever it was inconvenient. A guy she was going on a date with. Well, a vocal date. And then a real date. And then...well. Please don¡¯t be a creep, she kept repeating over and over again in her head. If Pumpkin turned out to be anything other than what he claimed...that¡¯s it, she couldn¡¯t trust anybody. She ensured throughout this whole time that he literally got nothing from talking to her. Why would someone work as hard as he did to talk to her so often if he didn¡¯t actually like her?

    You know, I was thinking, Pumpkin messaged her while she was on her break, as if thinking about him summoned him, that it¡¯s kind of cool we¡¯ve gone this long without knowing any personally identifiable details. That sounded strange. Cat replied with only a question mark. Like, you don¡¯t know my past, my friends, nothing. You just know my thoughts. You like me for me, because that¡¯s all you have to go off of. Hm. That was one way to think of it. And with you, there¡¯s no barriers of other people around, no pressure of outside influence. I have no idea what you look like, but I know that you¡¯re a beautiful person. She hated that her break was only fifteen minutes long. She hardly got a chance to stop herself from giggling at the message like a freak before she had to return back to work. She did, however, get a chance to reply.

    Where¡¯s all this coming from? she typed back. I mean, I agree a hundred percent, but this came out of nowhere.

    Pumpkin didn¡¯t reply until she was on her way to her midterm, and by then, she¡¯d almost forgotten that she was waiting for him to reply.

    Sometimes I don¡¯t know how people think of me, Pumpkin answered as she settled into her chair for her exam. Like there¡¯s all this...noise. I don¡¯t know if I¡¯m interpreting body language wrong, or if I miss-read something, or anything. But with you, I know. I was just thinking about that this morning. It¡¯s nice. Oh, that was an understatement. While she kept herself awake at night wondering what Peter¡¯s intentions or thoughts were, she could just hop onto Talkative and be straight with Pumpkin. He never yanked her around with several possibilities, or confused her with weird tones of his voice.

    As the professor passed back the packets of questions, Cat let out a sigh of relief. Pumpkin was right. With Peter, there was a lot of extra baggage that made things foggy and unclear. So that was it: she wasn¡¯t going to think about what-ifs anymore. She was just going to focus on what she knew.

    And right now she was absolutely focused on the fact that she had only done half of the midterm, and the professor let out a bellow: ¡°Twenty minutes left!¡±

    Blinking and looking around the room, to Cat¡¯s horror, made her realize she was being incredibly slow. A great sixty percent of the class had finished and left already. She had her cheat sheet, she had all of the ideas floating around her head, but now that she looked at the questions¡­. Well, sure, this question may have asked for a definition, but did it want an example? Would she look like she didn¡¯t know what she was talking about if she just explained it without any numbers? And if she put in an example equation, what if she wrote it wrong?

    Cat had only finished a grand total of eighty percent of the midterm by the time she was forced to hand it over. And in a very similar fashion to the first midterm, she found herself returning to her dorm room, drained, feeling sick to her stomach, and humiliated.

    Not even Peter, a math major could help her.

    <hr>

    Even though Cat wanted to do nothing but cry in her pillow at what a failure she was, she let Hannah convince her to join everyone for the last dinner before Spring Break. Kelsey seemed so excited that now it was getting even lighter and lighter during dinnertime, and upon hearing the news of what happened with Oscar last night, she squealed.

    ¡°Oh my gosh, finally! Things are looking up!¡± Ugh. Maybe for some people. While Cat stared at her Caesar salad, waves of shame continued to crash over her slumped shoulders. All of her friends continued to pour positivity at Peter, their hopeful predictions of the future relationship with Oscar.

    ¡°Actually, about that,¡± Peter interrupted, all smiles, ¡°I know it only happened last night, but I have an update.¡± This caught Cat¡¯s attention. She glanced up with just her eyes to find him looking at her, adjusting in his seat like an excited puppy.

    ¡°What kind of update?¡± she asked. Despite her best attempt, her voice didn¡¯t sound as enthusiastic as she wanted it to. Maybe she helped reunite him with his brother in some small part, but she was too much of an idiot to pass a stupid math class. Maybe she could be a bounty hunter of sorts if she couldn¡¯t handle college¡­.

    ¡°Oscar¡¯s going on a camping trip with some friends to Big Sur next week. I¡¯m going to drive there and meet him for lunch when he¡¯s done.¡±

    ¡°Big Sur?¡± Hannah echoed while the others let out various sounds of approval. ¡°That¡¯s, like, four hours of driving!¡± Peter only smiled in response. To hide her own, Cat turned her attention back to her lunch. He finally got to see his little brother. And all she had to do was pose in the wind for fake pictures and hand her phone over last night? If she could go back in time to tell herself not to freak out¡­.

    ¡°All thanks to Cat!¡± Cam called, patting her shoulder. She shrugged his hand off with a scrunched nose.

    ¡°No, I hardly did anything. Peter was the one that had to catfish his brother.¡± Maybe there was a new word they could use instead of something as gross and illegal as catfish--which, despite all the taunting of having the name Cat granted her in life, she¡¯d never seriously disliked her name until that word came up in earnest.

    Peter¡¯s laugh was a little louder than necessary. ¡°I literally said two things to him. He asked if I was a bot, I said no and he asked for a phone number to prove it. I didn¡¯t do anything.¡± Well, that was a relief, kind of. She didn¡¯t think he would shamelessly flirt with Oscar to get him to call, though she didn¡¯t even think about that possibility until now. Bullet dodged.

    Cam straightened up in his seat to gesture to the table. ¡°And who says catfishing is bad?¡±

    ¡°Oh my God, Cam!¡± Hannah smacked him in the arm, her laughter undermining her attempts to scold him.

    Kelsey let out an exaggerated sigh. ¡°It¡¯s good that something good is finally happening to you, Peter.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Cam continued, ¡°your life sucks.¡± Though the table let out soft chuckles, Peter punctuated his smile with a shrug.

    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think so. I¡¯m still really lucky. I have a lot of...privilege.¡± The conversation continued, but the words faded into the background. Peter searched for her eyes, amusement holding the weight of his dimples high on his cheeks. And, so quick she nearly missed it, he added a wink. She hardly had a chance to react before Kelsey rose from the table and held her arms out for hugs. It took several moments for Cat¡¯s stomach to calm down before she could get up from her seat, and even longer for the tingling in her limbs to go away. Hannah¡¯s farewells to their redheaded friend were loud enough to bring her to consciousness.

    ¡°Bye! Have fun in Hawaii! See you when you¡¯re three foundation shades darker!¡±

    Though Cat¡¯s own cheeks were still a dark shade of red just from Peter¡¯s glance. Thank goodness no one else paid any attention to her, and instead focused on cleaning up their dinner mess at the table. And even though she pretended to be engrossed in cleaning up after herself, she could distinctly feel the hairs on the back of her neck raise when it was time for everyone to part ways. He was testing her.

    Maybe the pre-calc midterm wasn¡¯t the only thing she failed.

    <hr>

    Cat wasn¡¯t all that thankful to have to work forty hours by the time she got to go home, but it did distract her from her roommate and other friends being gone, and from weird thoughts about Peter. Pumpkin did a good job of that, too, though the day she did have time to talk to him as much as she really wanted to, Wednesday, while she rode a bus home, he was busy and couldn¡¯t talk. And when he was done with his Spring Break parties or whatever and could talk, she¡¯d just arrived home and got thrown into catching up with her family.

    And even though her heart ached to reconnect with him to the extent they used to, she prioritized her family. She only had a few days with them, and her little brother wasn¡¯t on Spring Break, so time with him was also limited.

    Though, had she known what he¡¯d been up to, maybe she would have just stayed at school. Gabe¡¯s stupid adventures made themselves known at dinner, right when Cat was handing the stone bowl of guacamole to her mom.

    ¡°So I heard you got your phone taken away at school today,¡± their mother said to him with a warning tone. ¡°Texting during class again! Who are you texting all the time?¡± Gabe didn¡¯t look like he minded being scolded, which was Cat¡¯s first indication that he was about to get his Class A license and drive a bus over her.

    ¡°I¡¯m actually quite glad you brought that up, Mother!¡± Gabe announced with a stupidly wide smile. Cat stared warily. ¡°You see, I met this girl on Facebook that lives in SoCal. We¡¯ve been talking a lot.¡± She now abandoned her dinner plate all together and joined her father in watching whatever weird performance this was.

    ¡°How did you meet this girl on Facebook?¡± their mom asked. And why did Cat feel like this was going to bite her in the ass somehow? Or that it had something to do with her friends? The fake profile, Catrina, didn¡¯t say she was from SoCal. So why was Gabe just looking at her like that?

    ¡°Funny story about that,¡± Gabe continued. ¡°You know how sometimes the Internet is listening and is all like, ¡®You might know this person!¡¯ and recommends them to be a friend because you mentioned them in passing, or suggests you buy deodorant because it calculated that the last time you bought it and it thinks you might run out soon?¡±

    Their father finally spoke up. ¡°Going to need to put out Missing Posters to find your point, there, son.¡± Cat offered a chuckle, but it died quickly when her brother stared at her from across the table.

    "Well, I mention that because Facebook suggested I friend that girl I was talking to! And you know what I found out about her? Well, first of all, her name is Abigail Wood.¡± Cat¡¯s face fell the more her brother smiled. ¡°You know her, Cat? Oh, wait--no, you know her sister, Kelsey. She¡¯s your friend, right?¡±

    ¡°Why are you talking to Kelsey¡¯s little sister?¡± Cat¡¯s tone darkened with every word.

    ¡°We have so much in common!¡± Gabe blurted. His giddiness was coming through. Oh, God. Abigail--Cat now remembered that Kelsey said she was going to ask Abigail to friend ¡°Catrina¡± to make the page look more authentic. Cat gasped right as her brother continued, ¡°And it turns out, so weird, that her sister asked her to friend this fake profile on Facebook to make it look real. You want to know something even weirder?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Cat interrupted, ducking her head as she grabbed her fork. ¡°Doesn¡¯t sound interesting--¡±

    ¡°That fake profile had Cat¡¯s pictures all over it!¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Their dad now decided to participate in the conversation a little more, now that their mother was shocked into silence.

    ¡°Shut up, Gabe--¡±

    ¡°Yeah!¡± He continued anyway, laughing, knowing that any consequences for his actions would expire once Cat left to go back to school morning after next. ¡°Abigail said that Kelsey and her friends were making this fake Facebook profile, specifically to catfish some random guy.¡±

    "No!¡± Cat¡¯s fork clattered onto her plate. ¡°That¡¯s not what we were doing!¡±

    ¡°Catherine, what are you doing with a fake Facebook profile?¡± Mr. Ramos demanded.

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t--¡±

    ¡°Catfishing!¡± Gabe repeated. ¡°It¡¯s when you make some poor schmuck fall in love with you and extort--¡±

    ¡°No!¡± Cat nearly shouted. ¡°No, it¡¯s not that, it was--¡±

    ¡°Really? You weren¡¯t catfishing someone? With a fake name and fake hobbies?¡± Gabe fished in his pockets for his phone. ¡°Because I¡¯m fairly certain you are named Catherine Ramos, not Catrina Fallon.¡± As Gabe reached out to show their mother, Cat stood from her chair to lunge toward the phone, but Gabe pulled back last-second.

    ¡°Catherine!¡± their mother called. With a flinch, Cat sank back in her chair. ¡°Explain yourself!¡± Ugh, what a shitty brother! What happened to ¡°ride or die¡± or whatever? Now Cat wished she could go back in time and tell Peter he was better off without Oscar. Little brothers were nothing but traitors.

    ¡°Catherine,¡± their dad repeated. Cat sighed.

    ¡°I--I didn¡¯t do anything but pose for pictures,¡± she started nervously, ¡°and it wasn¡¯t even my idea--¡± kind of. It kind of was. ¡°But it¡¯s not what it looks like--¡±

    Mr. Ramos was growing impatient, voice taught with exasperation. ¡°Who were you catfishing?¡±

    Cat sighed. ¡°I--my friend, he¡¯s--he was--¡± She blinked several times and looked to the ceiling, slumped, heart low. Why did admitting this to her parents feel like she was betraying Peter? ¡°He¡¯s got a complicated home life, and needed a secret way to talk to his little brother.¡±

    ¡°That makes less sense than you being a scammer,¡± said Gabe as he retreated into his phone, tapping away with disinterest.

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± Mrs. Ramos piped up. ¡°Why can¡¯t he just do it himself? Why did he need your pictures and a fake profile to do that?¡±

    ¡°Their dad, or--well, it was his dad--¡± Cat hesitated. ¡°Turns out they aren¡¯t fully brothers, and the dad got really--you know, got really pissed, and kicked him out and all that. Wouldn¡¯t let them talk.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s ridiculous.¡±

    ¡°Well, it worked,¡± Cat said, shrugging. ¡°Now they have a spot where they can talk again. No one is getting hurt from it. Everyone that¡¯s friends with that profile knows it¡¯s fake.¡± At least she thought so. She didn¡¯t think Kelsey¡¯s little sister would have such a big mouth.

    ¡°Isn¡¯t that illegal?¡± Mrs. Ramos asked with wide eyes. ¡°Did you break the law for this--?¡±

    ¡°No, I don¡¯t...think...it is¡­.¡± Cat¡¯s lack of confidence earned her an annoyed sigh from her father.

    ¡°You need to delete that profile--¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have any control over it. I told you, they just used my pictures.¡±

    ¡°So is it this guy?¡± Gabe flipped over his phone to show a picture of Cam. Cat rolled her eyes and shook her head. ¡°Abigail said it was some blonde hunk.¡±

    ¡°What is a hunk?¡± Mrs. Ramos asked, leaning over to try and see her son¡¯s phone. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s Cam, right? I¡¯ve seen him in our Skypes!¡± She let out a small breath. ¡°Ah, hunk. I see, yes!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not Cam,¡± Cat muttered. Now her stomach swirled. ¡°Aren¡¯t you going to ground Gabe for getting his phone taken away?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t change the subject!¡± he spat, eyes wide. ¡°Besides, if you ground me and take my phone away, you¡¯ll never see who Cat broke the law for!¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t break the law!¡± She didn¡¯t think. Maybe she should have Googled that first.

    Mrs. Ramos still leaned over to Gabe to stare at his phone. ¡°No computer or TV for the weekend. Who¡¯s that?¡± Gabe clicked where his mother pointed.

    ¡°That¡¯s got to be him. He¡¯s blonde. He¡¯s hunky. Is it this guy?¡± Cat shut her eyes before Gabe showed her the picture, but she knew who it was; he confirmed it by reading out his name. ¡°Jerard Peter Leon. That¡¯s a rich-boy sounding name. Hey, why aren¡¯t you guys Facebook friends?¡±

    ¡°That name is familiar,¡± Mrs. Ramos said with a hum. ¡°Have you mentioned him before?¡± Gabe shifted his phone for their dad to look at the picture.

    ¡°Oh! That guy! He¡¯s the one that got Cat from that pond when she fell last year! I looked him up after!¡±

    Cat¡¯s eyes bulged. ¡°You what?¡±

    Mr. Ramos nodded. ¡°Yes! He¡¯s got a very wealthy family. Old money. The old oil rigs in SoCal. The ones the highways are named after. His family was in on that back in the day.¡±

    ¡°Oh, he is rich?¡± Gabe asked, taking his phone back. ¡°Oh, or not, because he¡¯s not related to his brother?¡±

    Cat caught her head in her hands. ¡°Can we eat dinner now?¡±

    Mrs. Ramos laughed. ¡°Elbows off the table and we¡¯ll consider it, mi criminal peque?a!¡±

 Chapter 54

    Was it sad that the highlight of Spring Break was the end of it? The awful bus ride, to boot.

    My little brother is such an asshole, she typed to Pumpkin. They¡¯d been going back and forth for several hours, now; he made the time go by much faster than the ride to Culosa, kept her giggling and thinking about philosophy and whatever topic he saw fit to distract her with.

    Isn¡¯t that the job of a little brother? came his smartass response. Cat pshed aloud.

    He ratted me out to my parents. I may have done something that turned out to be kind of illegal and he just sang like a canary! Well, from the Google questions she typed, it looked to be illegal. She didn¡¯t know any lawyers. Oh, but maybe when she got back, she could ask Peter to ask his lawyer, and find a loophole to keep them out of trouble. It was all for him, anyway. Or--for him and Oscar.

    A canary was used to warn people of incoming danger, so maybe in a small way, your brother was helping you?

    Helping me?

    By discouraging your life of crime?

    I¡¯m not a criminal! And right when she was about to get irritated, he started to send her gifs of various cute animals in jailbird outfits, and a clip from a movie called The Producers she¡¯d have to check out when she was in a position to get her headphones. In Pumpkin fashion, he had her laughing to the point that she had to cover her face with a hand to prevent the other bus patrons from staring at her.

    In any case, he deserves what he got. I hid an egg under his bed in an old sock and it''ll be forever til he notices.

    LOL did you really? That''s golden!

    She reveled in the hours of texting back and forth with him, despite the fact that she couldn¡¯t seem to get her legs in a position to not cramp. Or the absolute nerves that shocked her stomach to ice that indicated this was another day gone. One day sooner to her real date with Pumpkin, but also the same day she would get her pre-calc midterm back.

    <hr>

    Ugh, that midterm.

    Hannah tried to comfort her about it on their way to dinner at the food court that night.

    ¡°You don¡¯t know if you actually failed or not,¡± she kept repeating as they sat down to a table large enough for their group. They were the first to arrive, but Cam and Peter joined them not five minutes after Cat roused herself into another set of anxiety.

    ¡°What¡¯s she upset about?¡± Cam asked over Cat while she held her face in her hand.

    She tried to shout, ¡°I¡¯m a failure!¡± but her words went ignored as Hannah explained her midterm woes.

    ¡°Oh. Cat, I¡¯ve failed plenty of tests. It¡¯s not the end of the world.¡± In what world was that comforting?

    Peter stayed markedly quiet, which was probably smart of him, because if he said something one way or another, she¡¯d probably go off on him in a moment¡¯s notice. Just the fact that his silence bothered her clued her in that maybe she was a little too worked up. She couldn¡¯t even bring herself to look at Pumpkin¡¯s latest response to her on Talkative, something she was always in the mood for. And, for the first few bites of her sandwich, she thought that perhaps she was just going to be like this for the next couple days--until Kelsey walked into the food court.

    "Oh my God!¡± Cam shouted, half through laughter. Hannah squealed, and Peter laughed so hard, he silently doubled-over with a red face. Not as red as Kelsey¡¯s, though.

    ¡°Kelsey!¡± Cat called to the lobster-red figure in the doorway. ¡°You got hair dye all over your body!¡± The girl wore a strappy sundress and sandals, and walked as though even bending her beet-red legs was impossible.

    ¡°Ha-ha,¡± she called as she waddled over.

    Peter lifted his head enough to squeak out, ¡°You look like you were dipped in hot sauce!¡±

    Cat snorted. ¡°Should we call a doctor? That can¡¯t be safe!¡±

    Kelsey slowly pulled out a plastic chair and began to lower herself into it, wincing at every movement.

    ¡°Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up. It hurts like a bitch. Did you know not all sunscreen is waterproof?¡±

    Cat couldn¡¯t help herself. ¡°Clearly you didn¡¯t.¡± Peter returned to folding himself in half in laughter.

    Peter lifted his head for air and added, "There were red signs everywhere, Kelsey!"

    Kelsey glared. ¡°Are you done? I can hardly handle one of you, let alone both.¡±

    She hesitated before holding up a finger and said, ¡°You look red with anger. Okay, I¡¯m done!¡±

    ¡°If I could move fast enough, I¡¯d slap you!¡±

    ¡°And risk getting slapped back?¡± Cam interjected, gasping. ¡°You¡¯re not that dumb!¡± As Hannah shrieked with laughter, Cam continued, ¡°But hey, you got Cat out of her funk, so thanks!¡±

    ¡°Glad I could be of service,¡± she spat sarcastically. ¡°Nothing¡¯s better than being a ginger with fair skin and getting a burn this bad. Really.¡± And, it should have made her feel guilty to admit, but Cat really did find it quite therapeutic to sit there and mock Kelsey. And with Peter''s added quips, Kelsey could hardly get a word in without something being turned against her. Even Hannah and Cam added a few insults when they saw how much Cat laughed.

    But right when Kelsey seemed to be at her true limit, Peter switched the target to Cameron''s cargo pants: "All those pockets and he still can''t carry a tune." Cam was in good enough spirits to be the main target of the roast for the rest of dinner.

    Laughing at her friends made Cat exhausted enough to fall asleep that Sunday night; Monday, as Mondays usually did, flew by without Cat paying much attention. But Tuesday...Tuesday made her want to explode.

    <hr>

    She woke up before her alarm, trembling with anxiety. Math test. Date. Why did she schedule the date on the same day she was supposed to get her test back? She should have known the pressure would be too much. And even as she got ready this morning, attempting to look extra cute to give herself some confidence, she couldn¡¯t steady her hand enough for a winged eyeliner.

    ¡°You okay?¡± Hannah asked when she returned from her shower. Cat dropped her eyeliner back in her makeup bin and started wiping what she¡¯d drawn off her face.

    ¡°I get my test back. And I kind of have a date tonight. But I¡¯m more worried about the test.¡±

    ¡°Typical Cat.¡± Hannah dismissed her worries just like that. Maybe it should have been a sign that she was taking this too seriously, but instead, Cat switched to her mascara and opted to go without the eyeliner today. Pumpkin couldn¡¯t see her through the screen anyway. And she had time after her math class to de-stress and beat herself up anyway. A few hours, in fact.

    But the time just moved so slowly....

    <hr>

    In pre-calc, the professor spoke extra slowly today. He must have been doing it on purpose. He was a sadist, after all, and prided himself on failing students even though it was his job to teach them. Cat didn¡¯t absorb a single word of the lecture. And when Professor Whatshisface finally got out to passing out the tests, he went in alphabetical order by last name. Ugh!

    ¡°Do you know if he curves?¡± the person in front of her whispered to the next. Just a shrug in response. Cat¡¯s stomach twisted into knots for a full ten minutes while she awaited for the professor to call her name. And when he did, she almost fell over her own feet to get to him.

    Her heart stopped. The professor handed her exam results to her folded, face-down: the telltale sign that her grade was embarrassing and to not let anyone else see it.

    ¡°C-c-c-can I get extra credit?¡± she blurted out as she took her paper. The professor looked to her like she¡¯d grown a second head.

    ¡°Hm? Oh, um....extra credit is to complete chapter seven review questions. We aren¡¯t going to be able to get there by the end of the semester, so just turn it in with your final.¡± Oh! That¡¯s it?

    ¡°Th-th-thank you.¡± She thought that maybe this would give her the strength to look at her grade, but her hands wouldn¡¯t stop shaking, even when she left the classroom.

    She could hardly text Peter, tears rushed to her eyes so fast. I failed. I totally failed.

    What? was his prompt reply, as if he was waiting for her results just as anxiously. That¡¯s not possible.

    It is. I did. I failed. Well, she hadn¡¯t looked at the paper yet.

    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    I¡¯m in the library right now. Come to the fourth floor study cubes. Let¡¯s see what we missed. Didn¡¯t he work? But her feet already took her in the direction of the library, and her hands were too busy wiping away at her lashes to keep any tears from spilling.

    Peter was where he said he¡¯d be. He sat in a study cubicle, and already had started to move his things to a table for group work. Cat collapsed into a chair without being invited.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you have work?¡± she asked as she carefully set her paper, still face-down, on the table.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t book me for today,¡± he said simply. She scrunched her brows together. ¡°You asked me to open my schedule for you. So I did. Tuesdays and Thursdays for an hour after your class.¡± All that because she asked for his help? Cat blinked, then glanced down to her paper and sighed, the tender pang in her chest sinking to guilt.

    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t have bothered. I didn¡¯t even finish the test.¡±

    ¡°Let me see--¡±

    ¡°Wait, don¡¯t--!¡± Cat slapped her hand onto the paper before he could grab it, startling him. ¡°Don¡¯t look.¡± He only had to raise a brow at her for her to realize how stupid that was. ¡°Okay, fine.¡± She released the paper. ¡°Look, but don¡¯t tell me the grade.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t tell you the--have you not looked yet?" Before she could stop him again, Peter stole the paper from the table and flipped it over. Cat covered her eyes with both hands; she shook so bad, she could feel her face vibrate beneath her fingers. Peter sighed, seemingly defeated. Oh, God. It was that bad.

    ¡°Don¡¯t tell me,¡± Cat said through her palms.

    ¡°I don¡¯t--I don¡¯t know what you want me to do with this.¡± He sounded--what was that, defeat? Was he giving up on her? She slowly lowered her hands to look at him, comforted in his immense confusion.

    ¡°I got extra credit. Do chapter seven review questions. That¡¯s all. I turn it in with my final. Maybe that, with enough studying, will get me to pass.¡± Peter tapped the paper on the table.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you want to know how much you have to study first?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Cat insisted.

    He shrugged. ¡°Alright, fine. Let¡¯s see what you have to work with for extra credit.¡± She hadn¡¯t even realized she was holding her breath. At his signal, Cat¡¯s hand slipped into her bag to grab her book and notebook, and flipped to the appropriate spot.

    She slid the book over to him and let him flip through the pages as she gathered her colored pens and laid everything out, ready for his directions.

    ¡°Maybe--¡± she started meekly, ¡°Maybe you could check my answers before I turn it in?¡± He nodded while he scanned the pages. But she hesitated. ¡°Do you have time right now? I normally--I mean, do you want me to--¡± Peter shook his head and looked up at her.

    ¡°This is fine. I don¡¯t have anything specific going on for a little bit.¡± Though he took his time familiarizing himself with the content before he let her in on his thoughts. ¡°Okay, this is a new concept, but I don¡¯t think it¡¯ll give you trouble. I¡¯m going to write a practice problem and give you a couple minutes to read those two pages, then you can try to apply it to the problem. Then if it gives you any hiccups, we''ll focus there. Okay?¡± She nodded and accepted the book he slid over to her, and let him take her notebook and a pen to write some things down.

    It took her a while to let the words absorb the words on the page. Her nerves were still striking her from all sides, though now considerably softened. Maybe it was the language of the book. But even then, she was still reading even by the time Peter had pulled out his phone to wait for her.

    ¡°O-o-okay,¡± she said finally once she¡¯d gotten to the final paragraph. Yeah, none of this made sense. But maybe trying to apply it would help.

    ¡°Okay?¡± Peter asked as he set his phone down. As if reminding her of how little time she had left, her own phone buzzed in her bag.

    ¡°Yeah.¡± As he slid the problem over to her, she retrieved her phone, mostly to look at the time, partially to see what notification went off. Okay, she had two hours before her date. And, speak of the devil, that was him texting her!

    How¡¯s it going? :)

    Somehow, she hid her smile in her hand, and set her phone in her lap while she glanced at the problem Peter gave her. Pen in hand, she began to jot down some initial notes, then picked up her phone for the calculator app. Well, there was Pumpkin¡¯s question, right there. She could message him back really quick. Peter wouldn''t even notice.

    Excited to talk to you, finally, even though it¡¯s my fault it¡¯s taken this long, lol.

    Ding. Cat looked up from her phone. Peter was looking at his own, waiting for her to be finished with her equation. His phone got an alert right when she pressed ¡°send.¡± That better have been a Goddamn coincidence, she thought with a deep frown. Cat swapped apps to her calculator, her heart racing. She listened to the soft taptaptaps of him texting, and waited.

    Her phone vibrated with a notification from Talkative. Peter¡¯s eyes shifted from his phone to hers, the tiniest crease in his brow growing more and more pronounced. This better be a Goddamn coincidence. Oh, God. Was she sweating? It felt like she was starting to sweat.

    Cat lifted her phone off her book and held it in her hand to keep it from Peter¡¯s prying gaze, and tapped her notification.

    Message from PumpkinKing: It¡¯ll be worth the wait.

    Silent, feigning as if she never opened the message, she typed as if she was poking numbers into her calculator. Slowly, she typed, I hope you still think so later. Send.

    Ding. Notification for Peter.

    Cat¡¯s phone slipped out of her hand and clattered on the table. A loud, high-pitched screech dominated her senses. The moment Peter looked up at her to see what was going on, she immediately reached for her papers, her pens, and shoved them in her book.

    ¡°Hannah--emergency!¡± was all she could manage to say. Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.

    ¡°What?¡±

    The only sound she could get herself to say was a gentle, ¡°Uhhh¡± as she rose from the seat to shove everything haphazardly in her bag.

    ¡°Is she okay?¡± Cat ignored him. Her hands shook so bad, she couldn¡¯t even close her bag. She especially couldn¡¯t bring herself to look at him, just swept her phone into her bag and started running toward the library elevators.

    When the doors shut to indicate her descent, Cat fished for her phone again. No response on Talkative. Oh, God. Was she really talking to Peter this whole time? That was impossible. There was no way. She¡¯d have to...delete the app, change schools--move countries! There was no way. This was insane.

    The elevator spat her out on the second floor, and by the time she got out, she¡¯d already dialed Hannah¡¯s number. The elevator was taking too long. It was time to take the stairs.

    ¡°Hello?¡± Hannah answered on the second ring.

    ¡°Hannah! God, please tell me you¡¯re home. Tell me you¡¯re available.¡± Her feet moved so fast she nearly slipped down the concrete steps. (Though she''d be lying if she didn''t think it would have been faster to just fall down the stairs.)

    ¡°Um--yeah, I¡¯m--I was supposed to meet up with someone--¡±

    ¡°Cancel it.¡±

    ¡°Okay, consider it cancelled. What¡¯s wrong?¡±

    ¡°Y-you know--um--have you ever--¡± She was babbling.

    ¡°Cat? Hold on a second. I¡¯m getting another call.¡± Hannah hesitated. ¡°Peter¡¯s calling. Can I call you--¡±

    "Don¡¯t answer it!¡± she shouted into the phone. A passerby flinched from her shout as she burst through the stairwell doors. ¡°I¡¯ll be right there.¡±

    ¡°Okay, okay! Are you running?¡± And instead of answering her roommate, Cat hung up and threw her phone in her bag. Even if she missed and threw her phone on the ground, she would have probably kept going.

    <hr>

    ¡°Cat! What¡¯s going on?¡± Cat slammed the dorm room door behind her and threw her incredibly messy bag on her bed. Hannah sat at her desk, wringing her hands together in worry. Oh, God, she had no clue what was in store. She had no idea that Cat''s heart drummed in her ears because for the past few months, she was accidentally dating Peter.

    ¡°So--so you know how I¡¯ve been on Talkative and I was all, I think I want to meet that guy--¡±

    ¡°Oh, you met him?¡± Her voice was too peppy. She was too peppy. She didn¡¯t get it. This was a nightmare.

    "Kind of!¡± Cat¡¯s voice was very shrill, and for a brief moment she seriously wondered if maybe this was all a cruel joke. ¡°It--he¡¯s--I was just--¡± She sucked in a breath. ¡°I was just--I was at an impromptu tutoring session, and I was messaging him, and then--¡±

    Hannah gasped. ¡°What, he was there?¡±

    ¡°He is my tutor.¡± Like a stitch in a quilt, the two images began to meet: PumpkinKing was Peter. This whole. Damn. Time. Every time they had a moment and she beat herself up for semi-cheating on Pumpkin, it was for nothing. Wait, that''s not what she was freaked out about--

    ¡°Oh! That¡¯s so cool!¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Cat corrected in a deep voice, ¡°I guarantee you, Hannah, it is not cool!" Was he horrified? Did he feel disgusted, now knowing who she was? Did he regret everything now?

    Hannah blinked, settling a bit in her desk chair. ¡°Oh. Is he a creep?¡±

    Cat grabbed for her pillow and smashed it against her face, and let a long-overdue scream. She was hoping it would help her feel better. But when she finished screaming maybe a minute later and took the pillow away to try and breathe again, her heart still hammered so hard against her chest, she would be completely unsurprised if she cracked a rib. How was she supposed to breathe again? Peter¡¯s soft counting filled her head to remind her, and all she could do was try to beat it away by slamming the pillow against her head over and over again.

    ¡°Is he a perv?¡± Hannah pressed, seemingly even more concerned. ¡°Did he do something?¡±

    ¡°No, no--I don¡¯t--¡± After a few more deep breaths, Cat shut her eyes. ¡°I don¡¯t know if he noticed.¡±

    Hannah hesitated, though the air in her breath had a bit of an amused edge to it. ¡°Um. Did you just run out of there like it sounds like you just did?¡± Cat opted not to respond. That was probably the worst thing she could have done, wasn¡¯t it? Rather than just left the possibility of coincidence in the air, her departure almost guaranteed confirmation. She could''ve tested him, find out how he felt first. As her roommate sighed and went to retreat back to her desk, a knock echoed through the room.

    Dammit, Hannah. Cat threw her pillow to the side.

    ¡°I thought you said you¡¯d cancel.¡± But as Cat went to open the door to their dorm, her skin suddenly grew very cold. She didn¡¯t hear Hannah¡¯s answer, but she knew before she even finished opening the door that Peter stood on the other side.

    ¡°Is Hannah--?¡± Slam. The moment his face came into view, she shut the door again, and took several steps back.

    ¡°What the Hell, Cat?¡± her roommate sounded, deviating from her desk. She looked like she was about to rush to the door, but Cat held her hand up.

    ¡°Don¡¯t--¡± Cat whispered, looking at her with wide eyes. Peter knocked at the door again.

    ¡°Hannah? Are you okay?¡±

    Hannah furrowed her brows and stared at Cat like she grew a second head.

    ¡°Uh--uh, girl problems!" Cat blurted toward the door. She could hear Peter sigh. Hannah¡¯s face grew even more contorted.

    ¡°Are you kidding me? You fly out of there yelling about a Hannah emergency, Hannah doesn¡¯t answer my calls, I run all the way over here because I think she¡¯s dying, and this whole thing¡¯s about a low tampon supply?¡± Every syllable was layered with doubt, drumming Cat¡¯s heart lower and lower into her stomach.

    Cat was still panting from running and screaming, but kept her gaze to the floor. She didn¡¯t want to look up to see her roommate¡¯s expression.

    Peter continued his rant, ¡°I thought it was something important. For crying out loud, Cat--¡±

    She could only react by covering her face with her hands. Thankfully, Hannah was a fast thinker.

    ¡°Sorry, Peter--my phone died. It¡¯s an absolute bloodbath in here. I got it everywhere. Heavy flow month, you know? Could you come back later?¡± Oh, she could hear the grin in her voice.

    ¡°Your phone died." He didn''t believe it for a moment. "Jesus Christ. I¡¯m glad you¡¯re okay. We¡¯ll talk later.¡±

    At the sound of his disappearing footsteps, Cat shyly let herself peek at her roommate from between her fingers.

    Hannah was grinning like the Cheshire cat, a full, gleeful grin like she¡¯d never seen before. Cat¡¯s phone blipped, indicating a notification from Talkative. To the sound of Hannah¡¯s laughter, she opened the message from PumpkinKing: Maybe we should talk. She let out a pathetic whimper and looked up from her phone.

    "Peter¡¯s your tutor, huh?¡± Hannah confirmed. ¡°Oh, this is literally the funniest thing I¡¯ve ever seen in my life.¡±

    And suddenly, Cat felt the urge to file for an emergency roommate swap.

 Chapter 55

    Hannah¡¯s words never got through Cat¡¯s mind. She was just background noise, like a fan in the distance, while Cat sat on her bed and tried very hard to make her heart slow down. Really, even sitting, she felt faint. Her roommate either didn¡¯t notice, or didn¡¯t care, that Cat completely ignored her monologue.

    How could this happen? How could she not know this whole time that she was talking to Peter? She knew him! The harder she thought about it, the more the puzzle pieces began to appear, though, clicking bit by bit into a giant picture that just screamed: Cat, you¡¯re blind.

    The threads he posted on Talkative. She found herself staring at her phone, borderline stalking his history, as she thought back to the times he posted them.

    Hangover Cures, after Halloween. Okay, but everyone was hungover after that Halloween weekend. But she also ran into him outside of the store when ¡°Pumpkin¡± convinced her to get ice cream as a hangover cure, and Peter had bought...something. But she freaked out at him from their weird, drunken moment the night before¡­.

    Excuses to Avoid People During the Holidays, right after she and Peter had that huge fight and she said they weren¡¯t friends, though were stuck on campus together.

    Insomnia Hacks, after the Nate thing--and while she was MIA, he posted about petty revenge, job interview tips, when Peter got a new job and started suffering the aftermaths of the water polo party, himself.

    Cat switched to her messages and paid special attention to the dates, struggling to put more pieces together. The biggest failure, on her part, was not matching Peter¡¯s Kinesiology Bachelors Degree as a precursor to being a physical therapist. Other details made her want to slap herself. PumpkinKing talked about Mexican immigration with her, reminisced about home remedies of old, straight-up told her he was from a family of immigrants.

    ¡°I¡¯m so fucking stupid,¡± Cat muttered to herself before she returned her face into her pillow.

    ¡°...of the Internet. I mean, I¡¯m more surprised we never talked about it at dinner. And how did you not notice, like syntax?¡± Hannah continued. Oh, she was just listing more reasons why Cat was stupid. ¡°Like, Peter texted in the group chat all the time. Doesn¡¯t he type the same, regardless?¡± Ugh. She was right. Peter used proper grammar, for the most part, and--how did she not notice neither of them swore? For crying out loud. From a distance, it was one of the main differentiators between Peter and the other water polo blonds, was the way he spoke. She¡¯d only ever heard him use a single curse word, when he was too drunk to filter himself. Why did she never think, ¡°Huh, two college-aged guys that don¡¯t swear. That¡¯s kind of strange.¡± Who didn¡¯t like the occasional f-bomb?

    ¡°I need to go on a walk,¡± Cat sighed to herself.

    ¡°Are you going to join us for dinner, or are you going on your date?¡± Hannah was still too amused to hide any of her taunting. ¡°Your date with Peter!¡± And there was the laughter.

    ¡°Eat without me. I¡¯m going to go walk into oncoming traffic.¡± While Hannah giggled to herself, Cat just threw her phone on her bed, put the lanyard holding her dorm room key around her neck, and left.

    <hr>

    Flip-flops weren¡¯t ideal walking shoes. And the sun was going down, so it was getting to be a little chilly without a sweater. She didn¡¯t think she¡¯d be walking this long. When she planned this outfit, she had every intention of being inside at this time. On her computer. Chatting to the mysterious Internet boy that enjoyed roasting people and things as much as she did.

    Well, she thought sarcastically, at least he¡¯s not a creep. And all those confusing thoughts, jumping back and forth between them, so worried about the chemistry she had with Peter, but the genuine connection with Pumpkin.

    The sunset splayed orange patterns on the ground with the growing oak leaves on her path, guiding her back down to the dorms. After an hour long walk around campus, to the point that her shins now hurt, she¡¯d gotten nowhere in her thoughts. How was she supposed to talk to him? Like she did in person, or like she did online? Would the damn hurricane in her stomach ever slow down? It was a beautiful evening and she hardly noticed it, hardly cared. She couldn¡¯t stop herself from trying to figure out where to go from here, to try and predict Peter¡¯s actions. What would he do, now?

    Well, now was her chance to find out. As she descended the hill on her way to the back of the Casa del Sol dorms, a figure dressed fully in white workout clothes also approached the same set of doors. His hair, wet, splayed against his forehead, and splotches of damp skin stuck to his sleeveless shirt. He hadn¡¯t seen her quite yet, and still focused on dragging his towel against his head to try and take some of the water out.

    Cat hesitated at the base of the hill, just a hundred or so feet away from the doors, and watched Peter approach. He took his towel off his head, wafting the scent of chlorine in her direction, and his eyes found her just as easily as she saw him. He slowed to a stop, perfect teeth gnawing on his lip.

    Her stomach only felt worse, looking at him now. Like unruly waves smoothing the side of a mountain during high tide. She opened her mouth to try and say something, but no words came out.

    ¡°Hey,¡± was all he offered. She could hardly lift her hand, but it seemed to be an acceptable enough greeting. Peter bunched his towel in his hands. The sun shone in his eyes, and he glanced away from her for a moment. She couldn¡¯t move. Her feet wouldn¡¯t do anything. Her arms went numb, heartbeat pulsing all the way through to her fingers.

    Cat forced her lips apart, but her voice trembled despite her best efforts to steady it: ¡°D-did you...?¡± Peter shrunk in on himself and kept his gaze on the ground, rolling his towel more and more in his hands.

    He took a deep breath before he said, ¡°Did I know who you were?¡± He didn¡¯t wait for her to confirm the question. ¡°I--there were times I thought, maybe--? But I--no. No, I didn¡¯t.¡± Though he still looked down, his eyes flicked up to hers. Was she standing stupid? Why were her arms like that, just dangling like dead fish? But when she tried to move them, they were too heavy. He didn¡¯t move at all, but he looked like a normal human, not like a weird, poorly-taken picture of a creature mid-motion. ¡°Um, do you want to...talk...about it?¡± She flinched, finally granted permission to move by her body.

    ¡°I--I need...to¡­.¡± The more she spewed sounds from her stupid, dry mouth, the more he frowned. ¡°I need to, um--¡± To what, figure out how to talk again? Learn how to walk, get her brain to be something other than absolute slush in her skull? ¡°I don¡¯t know--¡± Wait, not those words. But she could only stammer, and none of the words she actually said went back in her mouth. How could she tell him she didn¡¯t even know how to speak right now, because every nerve jumped and jolted like they were on fire, and she had to go through and figure out what feelings were real, and what feelings were just fleeting or hopeful or childish.

    Peter never looked up at her. His hands stopped fidgeting, and he reached for the handle of the door.

    ¡°Fine.¡± His voice was so quiet, she hardly heard him. But just like that, he disappeared through the doorway and she continued to be rooted to the spot. Did he take that to mean--that she didn¡¯t know if she wanted to talk to him at all or just right now? Because the way his shoulders slumped, the way he just threw open the door and stalked through it like he knew what she was thinking--

    It took Cat another full minute to put the feeling back in her legs and feel steady enough to walk forward, down the hill to get to the door. But Peter didn¡¯t have any issue moving; he was long gone by the time she¡¯d even managed to make her way to the elevator.

    <hr>

    In a similar fashion to last year, Cat found her stomach wound so tightly that even the mere thought of food made her want to vomit. So despite Hannah¡¯s insistence that she needed to eat, Cat changed into her pajamas and climbed into bed.

    ¡°Don¡¯t tell anyone,¡± Cat said to her roommate before she could leave for dinner. Hannah sighed.

    ¡°Peter beat you to that request. As Cam and Kelsey aren¡¯t going to totally figure it out on their own anyway.¡± Peter beat her to that request? It wasn¡¯t a pleasant feeling that joined her nerves when Hannah left. She could hardly imagine anything that might make her feel better.

    Cat didn¡¯t expect to sleep that night. But, if there were any days to have insomnia, Wednesdays was one of the best ones to wake up tired. Hannah was still asleep, the sun still behind the clouds when Cat got up and started to work on finishing her latest essay for English.

    And even after Hannah got up and left for class and returned from lunch, Cat still typed away at her computer.

    ¡°Still working on it?¡± Hannah asked after letting the heavy door slam behind her. Cat twisted around from her chair and shrugged.

    ¡°I¡¯m almost done with this essay, and I¡¯ve got to do some ceramics before work tonight.¡± Hannah just yawned in response.

    ¡°You could¡¯ve come to lunch. Peter wasn¡¯t even there.¡± Even though Peter was, obviously, running around in the back of her mind, the mention of his name made her stomach hurt again.

    Cat shrugged as she returned to her essay. ¡°I got a lot done.¡± Though maybe it would have been better to eat something other than a day-old sandwich from the convenience store.

    ¡°So, like, what are you going to do?¡±

    She knew her roommate wasn¡¯t talking about her essay, but to get the point across that she wasn¡¯t in the mood to talk about it, Cat said, ¡°Just going to write a couple more sentences, then read through it a few times. Then, I guess I¡¯ll go do some ceramics for a couple hours, take a dinner break, come back, edit it before work. Then I can make sure it¡¯s final before I turn it in.¡± This smartass answer got her a pillow to the back of the head. Cat caught it sloppily, her elbow on her keyboard adding a nice keyboard smash for her conclusion paragraph, before she hurled it back.

    ¡°Fine, be like that.¡± Hannah stuck her tongue out at her, and Cat returned the favor. ¡°Mind if Kelsey comes over to help me study, or would that be distracting?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s fine with me. I¡¯ve only got like an hour¡¯s worth of work on this left.¡± Which was good, because she highly doubted Kelsey and Hannah would actually do anything related to studying.

    Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    And she was right. Kelsey¡¯s skin was still an angry red shade, but at least now able to move her limbs without too much struggle; she settled onto Cat¡¯s bed to hold Hannah¡¯s flash cards for her, but that was about as far as they got. This was, at least, the furthest Kelsey and Hannah got when they got to ¡°helping each other study.¡± Really, it was just them taking out enough school supplies to look like they were studying, and then the rest was up to osmosis. The only things they learned from one another were what their bitchy sisters were up to now. Kelsey came armed with something a little more interesting, though.

    ¡°Cam has a date tonight,¡± Kelsey said. This got Cat¡¯s attention, and she immediately snapped her gaze to the talking tomato.

    ¡°What?¡± Hannah and Cat asked at the same time. Kelsey giggled.

    ¡°I¡¯ll give you one guess as to who it¡¯s with.¡±

    Cat let out a psh and said, ¡°Brad.¡±

    ¡°That was fast,¡± Hannah said as Cat twisted around to keep looking at her paper.

    ¡°The guy¡¯s been comparing everyone he¡¯s been with to Brad all year.¡± The guy did have a smile that lit up the room; he had a charming sort of air around him. Cam could do worse.

    Kelsey shrugged. ¡°You¡¯re right, it¡¯s Brad. I ran into him at the convenience store. He said he¡¯s been trying to get back with him for weeks.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s cute.¡± Hannah sighed. ¡°Cam actively tries to avoid dating people and he¡¯s still got someone after him. It kind of feels like everyone¡¯s getting someone.¡± Cat decided now was the time to disengage from the conversation, and began to add to her essay. It was news to her, though, that Hannah didn¡¯t like her single status. She could have anyone she wanted--though perhaps it was a little shocking that Cam, of all people, had a date. If Cat was willing to let herself think about anything romantic, she might have felt a little weird about the idea of Cameron dating, too. The guy freaked out when she implied that they were sleeping together too often for it to be considered unserious.

    ¡°When was the last time you saw someone?¡± Kelsey asked, genuinely surprised. ¡°It was Cam, right?¡±

    ¡°If that even counts. We were more fuckbuddies than anything.¡± Hannah shuffled into her studythings, and Cat noisily scrolled back and forth through her essay to make it sound like she was doing something specific. If she remembered, Hannah said she and Cam didn¡¯t work out even before the fall semester officially started. ¡°But even that ended, like, beginning of the school year. Have I been standoffish? Maybe I¡¯m being standoffish and that¡¯s why no one will date me.¡± Huh? That timeline sounded off.

    Kelsey sounded confused. ¡°No? But what do you mean, beginning of the year? Cam was with Cat at the beginning of the year.¡± No use hiding that she was listening now. Cat glanced over her shoulder to Hannah for a moment.

    ¡°Mostly! I mean, we were supposed to be. We agreed when we woke up after my party that we were super done with that, and he immediately went after Cat the day after.¡± Hannah gestured to her. ¡°Obviously no hard feelings or anything, but I thought until now that he was incapable of feelings--other than horny.¡± Wait, a day? When did Hannah have time to be with Cam at all the day of her party?

    ¡°A day?¡± Cat echoed, her brows raised. A day! She and Cam hooked up the first week. Hannah said they were done, even kind of encouraged it. Was she trying to say they slept together the night of her party? That didn¡¯t make sense. Logically, at least.

    ¡°Chill, we were safe and clean. At least I was. And I assume you¡¯ve been checked since.¡± Hannah let out a short laugh. But that timeline didn¡¯t add up.

    ¡°Wait--¡± Cat squinted at her. ¡°So you guys were together--¡±

    Hannah sighed, a little irritated, ¡°Jesus--it¡¯s not a big deal. He wasn¡¯t fucking us both at the same time.¡±

    ¡°Oh, wait--¡± Kelsey butt in, ¡°like, you¡¯re probably not a rebound from Hannah. He doesn¡¯t do rebounds. He just...bounds.¡± No, they didn¡¯t get it. It physically wasn¡¯t possible. She woke up right next to him. She saw him leave the room.

    ¡°But I thought I was with Cam that night.¡±

    Now Kelsey and Hannah seemed confused, looking to each other, holding up fingers to count.

    ¡°Were you--? No,¡± Hannah corrected, pointing to her. ¡°You blacked out, remember? You did make out with him once or twice or something, but then we all did something else. Truth or Dare, I think.¡± Maybe she wasn¡¯t remembering correctly anymore. Cat struggled to rack her brain to recall that morning. Horrible hangover, one of the worst she¡¯d ever had¡­ She woke up-- ¡°Yeah, no, that was--yeah.¡± Hannah nodded, her eyes clear with the memories. ¡°Cam and I slept together downstairs, fell asleep on the couch. Woke up, immediately found Advil, and then y¡¯all started coming out of your rooms.¡± Cat blinked, her stomach twitching with the nerves that made a permanent home there. Cameron wasn¡¯t with her that morning after all.

    ¡°I never made it to a room,¡± Kelsey muttered. ¡°I fell asleep by the toilet.¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± was Cat¡¯s answer. She twisted back to her computer, mostly to stare into it and calm her heartbeat down.

    ¡°Right, just Peter and Cat actually found the guest rooms.¡± Hannah laughed again. ¡°Oh, and Craig. Remember how we found him a couple hours later under one of the guest beds? The one that¡¯s Paris-themed?¡± The girls laughed.

    Cat just stared at her essay, hand resting on her mouse as she scrolled to the bottom of it.

    ¡°That was a fun party,¡± Kelsey said, though her voice started to fade to the background. If Hannah and Cameron were together that night, that left exactly one person left that Cat could have been with. Cat pulled out her phone, struggling to make it look like she was looking at the time, and clicked on her conversation history with Hannah to try and scroll all the way back to last semester, when she asked her about what happened after she blacked out. It took her a while, but she found the conversation:

    Cat: Hannah, at your first party of the year when I blacked out, I didn¡¯t actually punch Peter, did I?

    Hannah: lol!! no. Why? He tryin to sue?

    Cat: Did I try to kiss him?

    Hannah: try? lol girl u guys made out for like 5min. everyone kind of went to bed after that bc it was too hard to separate u. but it was so hot im sad u dont remember.

    For fuck¡¯s sake, Cat thought to herself. Then, the Halloween party, that time at the tutoring center, and the other night in Peter¡¯s room--

    ¡°Time for ceramics,¡± Cat said through a sigh. She shut her laptop and grabbed her bag, her phone slipping inside as she rose from her chair.

    ¡°Aw, set an alarm,¡± Hannah said, waving.

    Kelsey laughed. ¡°Yeah, don¡¯t forget to eat before work.¡± Cat smiled at them, genuine in the small giggle that escaped her lips.

    ¡°Thanks, Moms. See you later.¡±

    Kelsey and Hannah were so loving. She almost felt bad for lying to them just now.

    <hr>

    Cat got out of the elevator, her phone in hand, and finally clicked on the text conversation between her and Peter. Oh yeah, she failed math, she remembered when she saw their past conversation. But she¡¯d worry about that later.

    Can you meet right now? she texted him. Maybe it was presumptuous to assume he¡¯d be able to, but--

    Busy, group meeting. Oh. She hesitated, looking up from her phone for a second. Group meeting, hm? That didn¡¯t sound right. She distinctly remembered the guys having an increased water polo schedule that made them eat like hoover vacuums, usually around this time. To check, she sent Cam a text: You have water polo today?

    He was prompt in his reply: Yeah, just finished. Hungry? Peter was such a liar. Cat sank into a plush chair by the west entrance, chewing on her lower lip as she looked out to the hill that descended to the athletics complex. If she didn¡¯t answer, Cam would assume she was at the cafeteria...and Peter, if he was lying like she thought he was, would decline a lunch invite and go back to the dorms.

    All of this was a stretch, really. But the camel¡¯s back was broken: there were too many intersections from the past year. Even when she thought Peter and Pumpkin were separate, her stomach fluttered. But now that she knew they were one and the same, her chest hurt with regret. So much confusion, so much anger, from never seeing the full picture. Guilt, from thinking she couldn¡¯t make up her mind between someone she¡¯d never seen before but made her heart soar and someone she saw constantly that made her stomach lurch and skin burn whenever he was around.

    Thanks to the tinting of the glass entrance doors to the west, Cat saw him before he approached the door. Peter wasn¡¯t wearing workout clothes like normal, though. Instead of his normal sleeveless shirt and gym shorts, he wore a light blue button-up and black slacks. Maybe he actually did have a group meeting. It was about the time in the school year for project presentations.... Whoops. Now the nerves kicked her heartbeat into high gear. Maybe if she ducked out really quick--too late.

    Peter pulled open the doors and stepped through, but only got a few steps before he noticed her sitting in the chair. He hesitated, adjusting the straps of his backpack as he slowed.

    He hesitated as she stood up, but he found his words before she did: ¡°I¡¯m meeting some people in the other lobby in a minute¡­.¡± Well, maybe this wouldn¡¯t take very long. Depending on his answers.

    Cat wrung her hands together, watching his worried gaze examine her features.

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me the whole truth about Hannah¡¯s party?¡± she asked. A small crease formed between Peter¡¯s brows.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± But she could see his breath catch in his throat. He knew what she was saying. She grit her teeth, more out of nerves than any irritation. Though, it was a little irritating he wasn¡¯t being straight with her. At all. This whole time.

    ¡°All you said was that I kissed you.¡± Now his lips pursed, and he stopped looking at her, instead choosing to look at the ground. ¡°You didn¡¯t tell me about anything after.¡± Peter sighed and reached into his pocket to pull out his phone, his dimples dragging down his frown.

    ¡°Is that really what you want to talk about right now?¡± He had an edge to his voice, but typed a message in his phone and put it back in his pocket. Despite his attempt to keep his expression smooth, she could see the gears ticking behind his eyes. He gestured to the chair she rose from, then made his way to the one beside it, separated by an end table with a table tent card for a few different clubs. He slipped his bag off his shoulders and onto the floor, and plopped into the chair, like a teenager waiting to receive a lecture. The way he looked at her, leaning on his knees, waiting for what looked to be bad news. Suddenly, Cat¡¯s lungs were full of lead.

    ¡°Yes,¡± she answered breathlessly as she returned to the chair across from him. ¡°After the hot tub. Hannah said everyone went to bed.¡± She sat on the edge of the cushion and forced herself to look him in the eyes, but he already started to retreat, his gaze unable to hold up to scrutiny. ¡°Everyone went to bed but us. We went upstairs.¡± And from what she did remember, it was probably the best journey up a set of stairs she ever had. This whole time, she thought it was a dream¡­. The heat, the urgency of his touch, his lips. Even now, it made the hairs on her arms stand on end.

    ¡°We didn¡¯t--¡± But Peter¡¯s voice died out before he could finish what he tried to say.

    ¡°I remember,¡± she said. ¡°I thought I dreamt it. But I remember¡­.¡± A warm flush washed over her cheeks, and she mirrored him, looking at the floor. Peter didn¡¯t seem to have any answers for her, just a hesitant breath he kept in his throat. ¡°I thought I dreamt it because Cam didn¡¯t remember it. But I wasn¡¯t with him.¡± And, in her defense, she¡¯d never heard Peter curse before. But now she could remember his voice clearly, ringing in her ears. ¡°Why didn¡¯t we sleep together?¡± The question seemed to jolt him a moment.

    ¡°What?¡± was his initial response. ¡°I--¡±

    ¡°I remember fully intending for things to go that way,¡± Cat said as-matter-of-factly. She tried to let the memory fade, but the tightness in the air remained, forcing her breaths to shallow. His shock steadied her swirling anxiety for just a moment. ¡°Why didn¡¯t we?¡±

    Peter blinked several times. ¡°I--we didn¡¯t--¡± Another dimpled frown as he looked away. ¡°We didn¡¯t have...protection. Not any that you weren¡¯t allergic to.¡± Her heart stopped. Really? That was it? Because she was allergic to latex, they just stopped? How-- ¡°We were too drunk anyway, and¡­.¡± But that seemed to be all he had to say. More memories bubbled to the surface of Cat¡¯s consciousness.

    ¡°At the Health Center,¡± she remembered quietly, ¡°that¡¯s how you knew to ask for nitrile gloves. Because I told you I was allergic to latex.¡± What kind of guy cared about an allergy that much, that he¡¯d let it get in the way of a drunken encounter like that, and that he¡¯d remember it weeks later? Cat sighed some of the tension out through her breath. Peter kept staring at the floor, hands massaging one another as she watched him. Her chest ached so much, her heart may as well have burst through her rib cage. That feeling in her chest...that pull, that desperation. There it was again.

    Cat let out a sigh as she shook her head. Peter wouldn¡¯t look up, just squirmed in his seat with his face contorted in nerves. She leaned forward a little, and draped her hand on his, halting his fidgeting, freezing him on contact. That tug, that invisible rope that tortured her since she came here, was pulling her to him.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been looking for you all year,¡± she realized when his eyes met hers.

    His anxiety gave way to confusion, the perfect green flecks dancing as he searched her expression. ¡°I¡¯m right here.¡± She wanted to laugh; it seemed like the only logical response to the amount of relief flushing through her system that moment. But instead, she let the feeling fuel her to him, closer to feel his breath on her face, his lashes on her cheek, his lips against hers.

 Chapter 56

    Peter¡¯s hands were gentle at first, just brushing her jawline, caressing her skin so softly. But as she leaned further into their kiss, his fingertips crept to her neck, to her hair, tangling in her tresses. His lips crashed against hers with a hunger she empathized with completely. His touch was an addicting flame that couldn¡¯t consume her fast enough. The simultaneous satisfaction of finally feeling him and the insatiable impatience of being unable to eliminate the barriers that kept her from touching the rest of his skin battled in her chest, only somewhat fulfilling.

    Cat slid off the cushion of her chair, fully intending to join him on his, but a cold breeze and a foreign laugh tore the two apart with confusion.

    ¡°Get a room, ya sluts!¡± called the stranger. A couple of guys in stained gym sweats bounced in through the doors, hooting and calling at them like some sort of guests at a zoo. They left as quickly as they entered, going about their business on the other side of the hallway.

    Cat blinked, breathless, and reluctantly followed Peter¡¯s lead. She fell back into her chair just as slowly as his hands lowered from her face, but she stared at the floor with a heavy flush rising to her cheeks.

    ¡°Friends of yours?¡± she asked, looking up at him through her lashes. Peter let out a nervous laugh and shook his head.

    ¡°I have no idea who that is,¡± he said. A timid giggle bubbled at her throat, but she managed to bite it back. Peter was completely unarmed, his eyes bright but the longer they stared at one another, reveling in a brief moment of bliss, the more he seemed to retreat into nerves. For whatever reason, the anxiety that plagued her up until now was nowhere to be found.

    ¡°Um,¡± Cat started, her fingers brushing over her lips to relive the recent memory of his.

    ¡°M-maybe we can meet later,¡± said Peter sheepishly. She nodded just the tiniest bit. ¡°Couple hours?¡±

    ¡°I have work, but I¡¯m off at eleven-thirty.¡± It was a relief that he seemed to be a little wobbly when he stood, too; he grabbed each of their bags in one motion.

    ¡°Okay, I can¡­. I can meet you there, if you want...walk you back...here.¡± She nodded again and accepted her bag from him. She couldn¡¯t help but look at his lips again; one of her hands had a mind of its own, reaching toward the collar of his shirt.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Cat murmured, pulling gently at the fabric. He obeyed without much instruction and bent his head for her, allowing her access to his lips just by standing on her tippy toes. She tried to keep it quick, but savored the sweet moment, the certainty that he gave her by leaning in and kissing her back. Pulling away would have been so much harder if it wasn¡¯t a strain to stand that tall for any length of time. She sighed and released him. ¡°See you then.¡±

    <hr>

    Why she bothered going to the ceramics studio was beyond her. Cat wasn¡¯t normally stupid. But this was just a stupid move. What made her think she could do anything other than sit on a stool and giggle to herself until she had to go to work? Her hands never even touched clay; her tools remained in her cubby, and all she did was relive the moment in the lobby over and over again in her mind until her phone screamed at her to run to Jittery Joe¡¯s. She¡¯d have to make up for that later.

    But maybe she deserved a small break, she thought to herself as she went on her way to work. Cat had a habit of making things complicated for herself. And now, now that such a massive worry simplified in one of the weirdest ways, it wouldn¡¯t be a bad thing to enjoy it.

    Her coworker, Jeffrey, disagreed. She didn¡¯t say anything to him, but he repeatedly snapped her out of her head, asked her to focus on finishing a drink she made, or to get her to return to the register to do her job. She kept pulling out her phone and looking at her past conversations with Peter on Talkative, despite Jeffrey shouting at her to ¡°actually do her job.¡± Everything meant so much more, now. Some of the things ¡°Pumpkin¡± said, the way he was so understanding when she pushed him away. Some of his jokes, too. Days when she wasn¡¯t herself and he sent her funny Internet memes and videos just to make her smile.

    Peter was so much better than her at compartmentalizing, she realized the more she read their threads. He tried to be private online; when she knew he was upset in real life, he was more guarded. For him, real life was where she so often found the vulnerable places of his walls¡­. Whereas for her, Talkative was the place she was able to feel most like herself. She never shared details about whatever upset her at any given time on it, but it never mattered. He just wanted to help. It was a little weird to realize that when she complained about an annoying friend that she was complaining about Peter to Peter. How many times when he was textually giving shade about specific types of people, was he complaining about her? Maybe it should have been irritating, but the only thing that made work go by any faster was rereading his complaints and trying to see if she matched the description, like a game. It was weirdly...fun.

    It finally came time to hang up her apron and clock out.

    ¡°You seem like you can¡¯t get out of here fast enough,¡± Jeffrey grumbled. She was probably more than a little frustrating to work with tonight, with how far her head stayed in the clouds.

    ¡°Sorry, it¡¯s been...an eventful couple of days.¡± As she swung her bag onto her shoulder, she gave him a small smile; her bearded coworker sighed.

    ¡°Better than mine, I hope.¡± Considering some of the stuff he let slip when grumpily scolding her for being a bad barista, she had no doubt. Cat opted not to answer, and instead walked beside him all the way out of the store, and left him to set the alarm.

    Peter stood under one of the street lamps, looking a lot more prepared for the cold fog that rolled in from the sea than she did. He had a jacket. She forgot hers, and now stood, shivering with her arms crossed over her chest, though still smiling at him. The cold walks back from work didn¡¯t bother her that much to begin with, otherwise she¡¯d probably stop wearing dresses all the time; she¡¯d grown used to it. Though the rush of heat that ran through her when she saw him certainly helped fight off the bite of the breeze. That damn peacoat. Why did men look so good in peacoats? Why did he look so good right now? It was late, her hair was flat and her makeup nearly completely gone, but in full Peter Fashion, he looked immaculate. Asshole.

    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Hey,¡± Peter called, offering a wave to Jeffrey. Jeffrey gave a tired salute in response. ¡°How¡¯s it going? Long time no see.¡±

    Jeffrey let out a long sigh. ¡°Discovering that love and hate are more similar than they are different, my friend.¡± And just like that, while Cat and Peter stood and watched him in surprise, Jeffrey pulled his keys out of his pocket and started his way down the street toward the parking lot.

    ¡°What?¡± Peter asked when he was out of ear-shot.

    ¡°His girlfriend turned out to be married or something,¡± Cat recalled in passing. ¡°That was last week, though. I¡¯m sure it¡¯s more of that.¡± The lady was forty-five. The odds of a forty-five year old lady being married were a bit higher than if Jeffrey just dated in his age range. But Cat was certainly in no position to tell Jeffrey who to fall for. It wasn¡¯t like she was very good at telling herself what to do.

    ¡°Ouch,¡± Peter sounded. He gestured to his coat. ¡°Cold?¡±

    ¡°Yes--but I like it right now,¡± she said before he could take it off. ¡°It¡¯s nice.¡± Instead, she stepped up beside him and watched, as if asking for his next move. She expected at least a peck of some sort, but instead he led the way to the dorms with a wave of his hand, and walked beside her. She tried not to look disappointed, tried not to let any irrational panic set in.

    ¡°I got to video chat with Oscar on Facebook while you were at work,¡± he said with an edge of excitement to his voice. Well, if he was thinking of his brother, he could be forgiven for not immediately going in for a kiss. He still stood a little straighter than necessary, walked as if he rehearsed it before coming to Jittery¡¯s.

    ¡°How¡¯d that go? How¡¯s Oscar holding up without you?¡± she asked, taking note of his steps. Peter was still nervous to be around her. No one made sure that each and every step taken was the exact same as the one before; or, at least, he did it more than he normally did. He always moved around in public like he was performing for a play; just right now, he was a terrible actor.

    The chirping crickets chorused around Peter¡¯s animated retelling of Oscar¡¯s latest adventures. How he had a fight with his dad, how their mom was being really weird, how school was going. The more Cat warmed up from walking, the less Peter seemed to pay attention to his own movements, as if warming up to her. As they stepped off the grass and onto the pavement in front of Casa del Sol, Peter¡¯s updates started to dwindle.

    ¡°He wanted me to ask--though I already told him what your answer would be...,¡± he said through a sigh as he unlocked the door and held it open for her. The warm rush of the heater was almost too much, but she was just about to start to be cold enough to take Peter up on his jacket offer, so she instead hesitated as the doors shut behind them and let the heat wrap around her limbs like a blanket.

    ¡°My answer?¡± Cat echoed, raising a brow.

    Peter let out a laugh. ¡°Oscar thinks you should pose as his girlfriend so that he can talk to me without hiding as often. He wants you to video call him during dinner, and call him ¡®babe¡¯ or ¡®sweetie¡¯ or something.¡± Cat actually snorted. A couple girls Cat recognized as neighbors were already waiting for the elevator, but she only gave them nods of acknowledgement. She wasn¡¯t interested in small talk with them right now, and they seemed to take the hint and began whispering among themselves.

    ¡°If you said anything along the lines of ¡®hell no,¡¯ then you were right,¡± Cat said with a laugh. Peter nodded, pleased with himself.

    ¡°I thought so.¡±

    The number on the elevator finally flashed to the number two, indicating its descent. It was coming down too quickly for her liking.

    ¡°Plus,¡± Cat added, her heart now in her throat, ¡°I¡¯d rather...you know--¡± She shrugged-- ¡°go for someone older.¡± Was that too much? She bit her lips together and looked up at him, waiting for his response. The smile reached his eyes before his dimples lifted the corners of his lips, temporarily easing some of the nerves that began to creep up her stomach. She was so focused on watching his face, the tiniest brush of his fingers against hers almost made her jump in surprise. Finally, some contact!

    She giggled when the elevator dinged for them to board, and fully entwined her fingers with his. His hands were so much warmer than hers, and the way his thumb rubbed the back of hers just made her blush.

    ¡°So how was your day?¡± Peter asked as the doors shut. Cat¡¯s neighbors definitely noticed this hand-holding-thing, and faced the doors immediately to make it look like they didn¡¯t just start staring at them. It would be a miracle if Hannah didn¡¯t know about this by daybreak, with how everyone knew her. Cat shrugged.

    ¡°Good,¡± she started with a grin as the elevator made its way up. ¡°Heard Cam went on a date. How¡¯d that go?¡± Maybe if he was still on it, they could keep talking for a little while...or something. Maybe revisit some of what they were doing in the lobby earlier. Not that she was eager or anything.

    Peter laughed and dug his phone out of his pocket, then flipped to something to show to her, leaning in against her arm as he showed her. ¡°You tell me.¡± It was a text from Cam, two hours ago, that read, Not coming back tonight, punctuated with a winking smiley face. Cat let out a single laugh--though, really, it should have been expected. Everyone but Cam seemed to know he was into Brad. She tried not to let it bother that it took her this long to realize how similar Cam¡¯s situation was to hers.

    ¡°Well, then,¡± was all she could say, shaking her head. Ding. Second floor. The neighbors stepped off quickly; right as Peter took a step, Cat made a point to keep her feet planted, and watched for his reaction. The whispers of the neighbors died away, and some of Cat¡¯s nerves returned. She bit her lip, and he just stared at her. She swallowed a little, shrugging. ¡°In that case, maybe we could¡­.¡± She reached her free hand forward a little and gently pressed the button to the third floor. Peter glanced at the button panel, taking stock of the moment, freezing her heart into place. Did he not want to? They didn¡¯t have to do anything, really, but she wasn¡¯t ready for the night to end quite--

    ¡°You--¡± Peter started as the elevator doors closed. His fingers loosened from hers. The blood drained from her face. ¡°You¡¯re okay with this?¡± What? What was this? Cat¡¯s breath refused to leave from her throat. All she could do is nod, but he waited for her to speak, his brows knitted together.

    ¡°A-are you not?¡± she managed to squeak out. The elevator stopped, the doors opened to the third floor hallway. But now that her hand felt so empty, hardly touching him, a feeling similar to horror grabbed at her chest.

    ¡°What? Of course I am!¡± Peter said, seemingly surprised. ¡°I¡¯m--I¡¯m just checking in, because¡­.¡± The human body wasn¡¯t meant to experience the amount of emotions hers did in a day. Now she froze, confused, and her stomach just waited, as if it was asking, Should I be relieved, or should I just wait just in case?

    ¡°Is this...too much?¡± She let her hand fall away from his, numb. The light above the elevator doors blinked, indicating they were ready to close. He pressed the ¡°door open¡± button to get the light to flick off. ¡°Am I moving too fast?¡± Peter shook his head and turned to face her straight on, taking a step toward her as he sighed.

    ¡°Too fast, are you insane?¡± They laughed, but hers was more nervous, although the way he looked at her, the warmth in his eyes, made her stomach settle. Peter reached for her hand again, holding it with two of his, and held it up to his chest, against the peacoat where he radiated with such warmth it rivaled the heater system. His heart beat against the prickly skin on his neck, just above the little scar, steady but a little quicker than usual. ¡°I¡¯m just checking,¡± he said with a warm smile.

    She shrugged. ¡°Well, you didn¡¯t kiss me when I saw you, so¡­.¡± Peter didn¡¯t need telling twice, thankfully, and stepped up to her to lay his lips upon hers. Just for a moment, though, enough to give her one jolt to the chest. He barely pulled away, his breath warm on her face.

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t sure if you wanted to keep talking about it¡­.¡±

    Cat let out a dry laugh and squeezed one of his hands. ¡°We¡¯ve done enough talking. No more talking.¡± On her tippy toes, she tried to kiss him again, but he stepped away, pulling her out of the blinking light of the elevator and into the hallway with a devious smile. Now that¡¯s what she was talking about.

 Chapter 56.5

    Cat stumbled onto the carpet of the hallway, her hand still encased inside Peter¡¯s. As the elevator doors closed behind them, she let her free arm snake up and around his neck. She tilted her head up, her lips molding against his in perfect sync, working from muscle memory that she didn¡¯t have conscious access to. The cold wall shocked the skin on her back; somehow, she¡¯d fallen against it and hadn¡¯t realized, though Peter stepped right up to her, keeping her upright, saving her from slipping by letting his hands drift down to her waist. Her fingers gripped the roots of his hair; her other hand slipped down to the collar of his coat, searching for its buttons. At least in her dream, when she wanted something gone, it dematerialized. She wasn¡¯t sure if the fact that his coat was still on despite her mental urging was more exciting or annoying. On the one hand, his touch was so much sweeter because it was real--on the other, she couldn¡¯t get close enough to him fast enough. There was too much in the way.

    Cat let out a muffled groan; Peter¡¯s frustration rooted from her bag still being slung on her shoulder, preventing him from fully holding her, and she could only get one button of his coat undone at this angle. Plus, he was too tall.

    ¡°Come on,¡± she murmured into his lips. She pushed him just enough to give herself enough space to step away from the wall, but kept a tight hold on his collar to pull him in the direction of his dorm. With his other arm hooked around the small of her back, she stumbled backwards, her lips sloppily searching for his while he vaguely walked forward. Maybe it would have been faster to just break apart and walk like normal humans, but she couldn¡¯t bring herself to part from him, and he didn¡¯t seem to mind, either.

    He partially let go of her, digging into his pocket for his keys as they hesitated in front of what was probably the correct door. Peter tore his lips from hers, just to look for the key hole, and she settled herself with kissing his jaw, his stubble, down to his collarbone. With him struggling against the door knob, she took the opportunity to work at the buttons of his peacoat, pulling it open so she was that much closer to touching every inch of him. Even through his shirt she could feel the heat radiating off of him, heat she wanted to touch with her bare skin.

    Peter¡¯s longstanding feud with doors and keys continued; though with her impatience, she was probably being very distracting--but that wasn¡¯t her fault, if his door stuck all the time. And maybe it was kind of fun to feel him fumble and fail because she couldn¡¯t keep her hands to herself. She tried to pry his coat off of his shoulders, but was only really successful with one until finally Peter gave up on the door and turned his attention completely on her.

    Her affections backfired tenfold. Any anticipation that she used to distract him he now directed in kind. He shrugged his coat off onto the floor and grabbed her hips with his hands, rough and desperate. The way he stared into her eyes was enough to make her melt, dark and lustful; despite the heat, she shivered. This only encouraged him. His hands slid down from her hips to her thighs, just to the hem of her dress. He lifted one leg, then the other, and she wrapped them completely against his waist as he pressed her against the wall. Now she could feel every inch of him pushing into her; more than just his hands snaking their way under her dress, more than his lips and breath on her neck, but his chest fully against hers, his hips.

    Cat let out a small sound in her sigh, unable to keep it from escaping. While one of his hands supported in keeping her up and pressed against him, the other seemed to want to explore.

    ¡°Ooh--¡± She grasped at the roots of his hair, keeping his lips on her neck despite her cries. ¡°I-inside,¡± she breathed. Under her fingers, his throat vibrated with a chuckle. ¡°Inside now--!¡± He ignored her at first, instead stoking more of the flame in her stomach with minute, deliberate movements between her thighs. She slid her hand from his neck down to where she figured the doorknob was, searching. But between his lips and his hands, her mind struggled to focus on anything else.

    Somehow, she grasped the handle and struggled to turn it. Of course it was stuck. Just as she tried one more time to twist it, another sound escaped her throat. Peter¡¯s wandering hand breached her bare skin, gently pulling at the cloth that kept them apart.

    ¡°Get inside,¡± she finally managed to say again. She wanted to scold herself, though, because at her direct request, Peter slowly set her down and pulled away from her, leaving her cold, craving. But it was worth it, because with just a moment of concentration, the door gave way, and his hands were with her once again. With his peacoat kicked into his dormroom, Peter shut the door behind them, and Cat dropped her bag and immediately jumped to him. He caught her without a moment¡¯s struggle, one hand supporting her back, and captured a kiss as he wandered in the dark toward his bed. Her foot brushed the back of his desk chair, but the moan was more because he squeezed her skin and set her on the edge of his mattress.

    Cat found the collar of his shirt again and struggled with the top button, until finally, when she assumed she got it, she pulled, ripping it open. Soft, plastic taps around the room froze them in place. Cat opened her eyes to see Peter glancing down at her hands and his open shirt, his lips parted in surprise.

    ¡°Did you--did you just break my shirt?¡± As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could now notice tiny, white buttons scattered onto the floor around them. She covered her mouth with her hands, unable to contain her nervous giggle. She never imagined she¡¯d be strong enough to actually ruin a shirt like that.

    ¡°Um--it was hideous. You have no sense of fashion.¡± Peter¡¯s eyes snapped to hers; if he didn¡¯t immediately move to shrug it off, or to kick off his shoes, she might have been worried she upset him.

    ¡°I have no sense of fashion?¡± he echoed. Cat followed his lead and let her shoes slip to the floor, doubling down with a nod. As she bunched her dress up to her hips to prepare to slip it off, Peter stepped between her legs, moving a little slower. She couldn¡¯t help herself: upon staring at him this close, finally getting that obnoxious barrier out of the way, her hands reached up to his chest; he still continued to move at a snail¡¯s pace, keeping eye contact. ¡°This is coming from the girl who wore a glorified fisherman¡¯s net as a shirt to Hannah¡¯s party last year?¡± She gasped, and he took the opportunity to close the space between them, his lips again at her neck. Oh, he felt so nice.... But she would not let him have the last word. Glorified fisherman¡¯s net? Really? She grit her teeth and turned back to him one hand returning to his hair to gain control of his gaze.

    ¡°So did you,¡± she whispered back. Peter hesitated, seemingly confused for a moment, before the memories returned to him. He laughed; she watched his face light up as he remembered that they had to switch shirts during Drunk Jenga.

    ¡°Touche,¡± was his only response. Hah! She took the moment to fling the fabric of her dress over her head. She wasn¡¯t sure where it went, but it didn¡¯t come back down to hit them, and Peter immediately returned to run his hands down her back, his lips on hers rolling and moving with encouragement from her muffled moan. Like magnets, any moment they didn¡¯t touch, they would snap back together, breathless, eager, urgent.

    For a brief moment, Cat tricked herself into thinking that she might have any control over herself. Peter¡¯s hand brushed down her back and got to the hooks of her bra; she anticipated, that like any guy, he¡¯d sit there and fumble for a few minutes before she eventually took it off herself--but with one, gentle movement, the hook came apart and her bra staps fell off her shoulders. Where on Earth did he learn that--?

    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    ¡°B-before we get too far,¡± she started, mostly to herself, ¡°we should...get¡­.¡± She had no idea how her hands got there, but his belt buckle came undone in her fingertips, and she held the end while he hesitated.

    ¡°Right--¡± She kept holding onto it, and let it slide out of the loops of his pants as he pulled away. As he pulled out what he was looking for from Cam¡¯s top drawer, he asked, ¡°Is--is this weird? That I¡¯m getting these from¡­.¡± He still returned to her, though, and let her pull him from the button of his pants. Cat shrugged.

    ¡°I really don¡¯t care,¡± she answered honestly. Those condoms were originally hers anyway. Cam shouldn¡¯t have kept them after she ended things with him--but for right now, it stopped her from having to sneak into her dorm to get them, so maybe it was a blessing in disguise.

    Peter slipped out of his slacks at her silent instruction, and finally climbed his way onto the bed to join her when the only thing on him were his boxer briefs. She lay her head back on his pillow and wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him to her. She wanted to touch the waistband of what little clothing remained, but he found her bottom lip and bit down gently, setting her skin aflame. His chest against hers, bare, soft. He sighed as he kissed her, at long last able to wrap his arms around her, and she, him. Every moment they touched, the more the hunger in her chest grew. His lips worked sloppily, fast with hers, his tongue never leaving her wanting. He sensed her need, his hands floating gently across every inch of her skin, down her neck to her chest to squeeze and pinch. She arched her back to welcome his touch, his feverish kisses trailing his fingertips. Her body responded in kind, activating in anticipation.

    ¡°Fuuuuck me,¡± she whispered to the air. With his hands full and his mouth still busy, Peter let out a chuckle.

    ¡°That¡¯s the goal,¡± he said. Oh, the gentle scraping of his teeth drove her insane. She wasn¡¯t doing it on purpose, but her nails dug into the soft flesh of his back; he, at least, correctly translated this to mean he should keep doing what he was doing. With his tongue and one hand, he continued to massage her bare skin, and to her ultimate delight, decided to use his other hand to resume the gentle tease he very nearly gave her outside the door.

    If he kept going at this rate, she would absolutely implode. Somehow, any time she thought she couldn¡¯t take it anymore, he switched things up on her again--this time, trailing kisses down to her belly button. Cat was torn. On one hand, as he removed her final article of clothing, he started to demonstrate an expertise in feeding her desire; on the other hand, the only possible way to improve the newfound sensations he crafted for her was if he could somehow--

    ¡°Oh!¡± Cat clamped a hand over her own mouth, suddenly self-conscious about the amount of noise she absolutely needed to make all of a sudden. Even though she could only see his eyes when she glanced down to him, she could feel that he was smiling at her, proud and knowing full well that every little shift of his tongue drove her mad. She tried not to twitch, to not let her legs buck without her permission, but it was little use trying to fight the responses he brought out of her. Naively, she thought maybe he would switch to something else, but he continued his devotion to her most sensitive and vulnerable place; he was determined, and damn good at it.

    ¡°Oh my God--¡± There was no use trying to hold anything back, except for maybe a little bit of her cries, because it was late, and the walls were thin, and-- ¡°Shit! Peter--¡± With one hand covering her mouth, another gripping his bedsheets, the pressure built in her stomach, rising with every movement. Upon hearing her say his name, he doubled-down, and everything increased tenfold; his determination fed the bubble in her chest until it peaked, releasing sparks of heat through every vein in her body, jolting her deepest core. Cat bit down on her hand to keep herself quiet. Her limbs trembled even after a few long, deep breaths to get her head back down to Earth.

    Peter let out a gentle laugh and planted a final kiss on her thigh, obviously satisfied with himself, and gave her a minute to catch her breath. She stared at the ceiling, panting as he slowly made his way back up to her; she hardly heard the crackling of the foil wrapper, but at the thought of one less thing to have to do, it eased her mind just a little--and excited her, that more was to come.

    ¡°You okay?¡± he whispered with amusement. Cat let out a slow breath, then twisted to face him as he lay beside her, patiently waiting for her approval.

    ¡°Fuck,¡± was all she said. And right when he laughed, she brought her hands to his face to pull him into a deep, grateful kiss. It did nothing to calm her down, though. He seemed more than prepared to handle that.

    ¡°Careful,¡± he said as he returned to hover over her, ¡°a guy could get addicted to those sounds.¡± She laughed at him.

    ¡°Honestly, I see no problem with that.¡± Despite the jokes, despite the laughter, all of the bubbly giddiness started to dwindle away. Staring into his eyes, he gently rested himself over her, hardly touching. He looked at her lips, asking for another kiss, but she kept a hand on his cheek holding him there, savoring the moment that their eyes met.

    Everything from this past year rested with them, the memories floating around. The hurt, the gratitude, the hope and the fear. The anxiety and nervousness of ever being close to him, the impulsive feelings to touch him, to know him. He was there for everything. All the bad, all the good. Every terrifying moment that could have been labeled as the worst time of her life, he was there. Pulling her out, holding her, even before she¡¯d ever said a single kind word to him. Wanting nothing but her safety. The warmth he not only emanated from his skin but his words, his heart. He cared for her before she deserved it. Stuck by her no matter how hard she tried to shove him away.

    ¡°What?¡± Peter asked, his voice so quiet. Keeping his weight mostly on one arm beside her, his hand reached up to cup her cheek. ¡°What are you thinking about?¡±

    She smiled. ¡°You,¡± she answered. ¡°Just you.¡± That seemed to satisfy him. He bent down to kiss her, though with a significantly different edge than how this entire day started. Tender, soft. Just a minute ago, everything was fire and electricity; but now, like the gentle waves upon a beach, he moved with her slowly, certainly. She was thankful to be laying down; if she wasn¡¯t, she would have undoubtedly fallen over. He stole her breath with his delicate affection; and while the fervent need in her stomach still rose, it did so with a deeper power, rumbling forth with such fullness.

    Their moans harmonized when Peter finally closed all the spaces between them. He began a rhythm, somehow matching the exact tempo of her heartbeat. With one hand on his neck to keep his lips on hers, the other rested on his shoulder, pulling him closer with each ebb and flow. Her mind still swirled in memories, every time he looked at her, every time he nearly touched her and didn¡¯t. Every anonymous message dedicated strictly to making her smile. Every one of his laughs, his dimples.

    She mirrored every motion he made, desperate to explore this foreign buildup every thought of him composed. When maintaining their kiss became impossible, Peter buried his face in her neck, sighing and murmuring in her ear. She squeezed her eyes shut, relishing in his pleasure, moving her hips with his; the moment she encouraged a faster pace, he obeyed without hesitation.

    Peter¡¯s breath quickened; she pulled at his hair, forcing him to look her in the eyes again. Like thunder in the distance, everything swirled in her chest, every thought, every touch, every movement he made, began to grow nearer and nearer. He braced himself against her, intensifying, compounding every approaching wave of bliss she anticipated with every time his hips met flush against hers.

    He finally closed his eyes and pressed their foreheads together; as the deep, powerful surge from her core approached closer and closer, Peter increased his momentum, tensing above her, his relief cresting with her own. They cried out together, clutching for one another, riding the last rush of euphoria in perfect unity.

    Cat still held him, keeping him exactly where he was, her eyes shut tight and her heart fluttering back to some semblance of a normal rate from what might have been the most incredible feeling she¡¯d ever had. The world slowly returned to them as they settled together. They lay there, wrapped completely in one another¡¯s arms, legs entangled under the sheets, saying nothing that couldn¡¯t be done with a gentle kiss on the lips.

    Eventually, Cat lay her head on his chest to listen to Peter¡¯s gentle breathing. He ran his fingers through her hair, consistently, at first, but eventually so slowly that she nearly forgot he was doing it in the first place. His heartbeat was so comforting, his skin so warm. No one could fault her for so easily drifting off to sleep with a smile on her face.

 Chapter 57

    If she wasn¡¯t so exhausted, Cat would not have slept at all that night--or rather, morning. She didn¡¯t think she¡¯d be able to, anyway, because the only other time she fell asleep sharing a twin-sized bed with someone was when she was drunk out of her mind, and it was only for a few hours. Sharing a twin bed with someone, and getting any rest from it, sounded like a long shot.

    But now, she cursed the sunrise. Peter¡¯s chest and arm were quite comfortable, and waking up to his natural scent, always stained with chlorine, brought a strange wave of peace to her. She¡¯d never woken up like this. Naked, vulnerable, encased in an embrace so warm, so gentle. His breathing rocked her like gentle waves, and while one arm held her back securely away from the freezing cold wall, the other rested on his stomach, inches away from her hand--the hand she¡¯d been holding when she accidentally fell asleep.

    Cat glanced up. Even though he wasn¡¯t awake and couldn¡¯t see her, a dark blush rushed over her skin, and she ducked her head a little further into his arm to try and hide her face. Was she supposed to regret this? Scold herself, say this was too fast, or that she should have thought about it longer? None of those thoughts came to mind. None of the guilt and shame that usually accompanied a night like this clutched at her consciousness and stuck. Fleeting thoughts of ¡°You¡¯re going to Hell¡± and ¡°You¡¯ve ruined your temple and will never be pure again¡± raced through, but unlike normal, she was able to watch the thoughts disappear. Nothing about what they did could possibly be considered wrong when it felt like that¡­.

    Being with Peter wasn¡¯t like the other times she¡¯d been with someone. She wasn¡¯t chasing a feeling of relief, or looking to get rid of an urge. Maybe that¡¯s what made it okay. Everything they did last night was...an amplifier. The tugging rope at her chest didn¡¯t feel quite so aggressive, now. It was as warm as Peter¡¯s shoulders, gentle, pulsing like a heartbeat next to hers. She was so focused on that feeling, she didn¡¯t notice Peter¡¯s breathing change.

    ¡°You awake?¡± he whispered to her. Cat glanced up to him, her nod as small as her smile. His eyelids sagged, red and sleepy, kind of adorable. ¡°Sleep okay?¡± She nodded again, watching him raise his free hand to rub his face, slow, careful not to nudge her. ¡°Any...second thoughts?¡± he asked while he couldn¡¯t see her. Peter pursed his lips and took his hand away, but she felt his breath freeze, watched his heartbeat quicken right beside his Adam¡¯s apple.

    Cat smiled wider, now, and stretched a little further to try and give him a peck on the lips. But he was so soft, so accepting and warm, that it was a bit longer than intended. She wasn¡¯t quite sure whose fault it was--his for being tired, or hers for being greedy.

    ¡°No second thoughts,¡± she murmured as she pulled away. Watching the relief wash over him made this new feeling in her chest swell. Maybe it wasn¡¯t so much a new feeling, as the feeling she allowed to stay. Before, she tried to get rid of it. But now that she knew it was just him, well¡­.

    ¡°That was...a little...unexpected,¡± he said with a nervous laugh. She shrugged, and adjusted herself so they could both sit up and have a little more space on the bed. She didn¡¯t expect Peter to look so shy, to rub his neck and try to force himself to look at her face more than normal. Cat chuckled. At least he wasn¡¯t obvious in his ogling.

    ¡°Well¡­.¡± She shrugged. How was she supposed to answer that? Now it was her turn to shrink on herself, to look down and pick at Peter¡¯s fingers in her hands.

    ¡°What?¡± He was lucky she was tired, that it was morning, and everything was so new and raw that she had less time to shut it off or close it away.

    She shrugged again. ¡°I mean¡­. I went from...liking two guys for two completely different reasons to finding out they¡¯re the same person.¡± Unexpected, maybe. But more intense, both in the relief of the simplicity and in the combination of the two extremes, the compounding of everything she thought she knew and felt.

    ¡°You really had no idea?¡± Cat shook her head without looking up.

    ¡°I guess I didn¡¯t notice,¡± she said.

    ¡°That sounds about right.¡± What! Cat snapped her gaze up to him and smacked his arm without hesitation, but this only put him into a fit of laughter. ¡°What, it¡¯s not like you¡¯re the most observant person out there! You survive by shutting people out.¡± The rope in her chest froze to ice, not by what Peter said now, but by the memory it stirred. Sitting just a few feet away, drinking rum out of a solo cup, arguing with herself over whether or not to drink to Peter¡¯s accusation that she¡¯d never loved anyone. You¡¯re too sarcastic and defensive to ever let anyone in!

    Cat swallowed the memory back and looked up at him; it was a struggle to steel herself this early. He noticed her expression, his eyes softening, his thumb gently rubbing hers. He wasn¡¯t going to walk his words back. Why should he?

    ¡°I guess I¡¯m not that great at that,¡± she said through a sigh. Peter still stared. ¡°When did you think you were talking to me?¡±

    He pursed his lips. ¡°Honestly?¡± She nodded. ¡°Any time you pulled away. I spent the entirety of Winter Break¡­.¡± A crease formed between his brows; he turned away, favoring a spot on the floor beside the bed. Maybe he remembered her running in, unannounced, that one morning to cry on his floor because she couldn¡¯t handle people finding out about what Nate did, or the rumors that spread because they didn¡¯t. Or maybe he just couldn¡¯t look at her right now. Cat squeezed his hand; even if he wasn¡¯t thinking about everything he did for her, she was, at least. Even if she did push him away. Pushing him away was so much easier, so much safer than accepting everything he gave her and daring to think she might deserve it sometime.

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    Peter continued, his mind far away, ¡°But then, when you came back, and you weren¡¯t yourself, and things just...looked like they were getting worse, I kind of forgot. And when you messaged me on Talkative, you were...you.¡± He paused. ¡°I would have thought that if I was right, you¡¯d be different. Act different. Push me away more. So I told myself you were different people...for the most part.¡± He didn¡¯t sound finished, so she let his words hang in the air. He returned to looking at her hands, massaging them with his own, keeping himself busy. ¡°And when I thought you were different people, we--physically, anyway--¡± He gestured between them with their entwined hands-- ¡°we had this...moment. And that awful virtual date after.¡± He looked at her, watching her cheeks flush.

    ¡°That made you think it was me?¡± The guilt that circled her mind until she thought she¡¯d ruined everything.

    ¡°Honestly? Yeah.¡± Peter shrugged. ¡°I was going to confront you about it¡­.¡± Was that why he was so pissy that week? Avoiding her and being near her at the same time, being weird? And that ¡°party¡± they had where it all crested thanks to his stupid secret rum bottle he hid behind the drawers in his desk.

    ¡°You did confront me about it,¡± Cat remembered, gesturing to the floor, as if pointing to that ver moment. ¡°You said--¡± Peter flinched; his fingers tensed against hers, his face contorting like he was in physical pain.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean--¡±

    ¡°Yes you did,¡± she corrected firmly. ¡°But I meant what I said, too. I¡¯m not upset about it.¡± She waited for him to relax a little, waited for his dimples to show up on his frown. ¡°You weren¡¯t wrong. And I knew that pretty soon after I left.¡±

    He shook his head. ¡°And when you messaged me that night I thought, ¡¯Cat would never. They¡¯re obviously different people.¡¯¡± His words left a strange feeling in her stomach that she couldn¡¯t put words to. Peter¡¯s hand was loose against hers, his voice growing more and more distant. Cat¡¯s gaze fell to her lap.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have,¡± she agreed with a shrug. ¡°If anyone but you said that to me, I wouldn¡¯t have.¡± She could feel him stare at her now. ¡°You--¡± He protected her all through the year, even from their friends. For him to change his tune like that was a shock to her system. But how could she put those thoughts, those feelings into words? ¡°That wasn¡¯t something you¡¯d said to me before,¡± she settled with. ¡°I didn¡¯t expect it from you. So I guess it got through.¡± He let out a ¡°hmm¡± and let silence take over from there. He leaned against his headboard, seemingly lost in thought, and she just stared, watching him breathe.

    Eventually she found herself shifting to snuggle up next to him again, even though she knew that her alarm would go off in her bag at any minute now to tell her to get ready for work. And didn¡¯t he have class? Well...any extra moment was nice. She rested her head on his shoulder and let her fingers run up and down the contours of his chest. There was just a little bit of stubble; it made her smile. These moments of the improper and unkept Peter were few and far between, a secret.

    ¡°You never actually answered my question,¡± Peter said suddenly. She blinked.

    ¡°What question?¡± Cat pulled away a bit to look at his face, the pensive curiosity spread between his brows.

    ¡°The Never Have You Ever question,¡± he said. ¡°You just spun it back on me.¡± Never have you ever been in love. If it weren¡¯t for the default alarm song ringing through the dorm from her bag at that exact moment, Peter might have been able to see the absolute panic that overtook her body.

    ¡°Shit,¡± she muttered. He maybe thought it was about getting ready for work. She was absolutely not freaked out about that. She was far more freaked out about the memory of why she wasn¡¯t able to answer that question, because she wasn¡¯t sure about how strong her feelings were for Pumpkin--now Peter. All of the panic within a split second was hidden because of her stupid job that revolved around people too lazy to make their own coffee.

    ¡°Maybe we can meet later,¡± he offered as she climbed off of his bed.

    ¡°After my class?¡± she asked as she glanced around for her clothes. Underwear? Check. ¡°I know I didn¡¯t book you for tutoring, but I need to work on that extra credit¡­.¡± Aha, found the bra! But where was her dress?

    Peter let out a laugh, which she figured had to do with the fact that he found her dress when he looked up to the bookshelf that floated over his bed. He pulled it off and tossed it to her, fully grinning.

    ¡°You never looked at your grade,¡± he said without question. Cat blinked at him as she pulled down the hem of her dress. She didn¡¯t need to answer, he just kept laughing at her. ¡°Cat, you got a B.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± was her response. She stared at him for a moment before her phone chimed again. ¡°I--I what?¡±

    ¡°You got a B,¡± he repeated.

    ¡°I got a B¡­.¡± After she shut off her phone, she spotted her text book with her papers haphazardly shoved inside. She slipped it out to look at it. ¡°How¡­.¡± As she asked the question, she saw, marked in red pen on her exam, why. The professor curved the grade. She didn¡¯t even finish the test and she got a B on top of the curve?

    ¡°Alright, I¡¯ve got to get ready, too. I¡¯ve got class.¡± Right on cue, Peter¡¯s phone started to buzz from his pile of pants on the floor. Right as he jumped down, he let out an ¡°ouch!¡± Cat shoved the test back in her bag and swung it on her shoulder, still blinking in surprise. ¡°Stupid buttons¡­.¡±

    ¡°Sorry about your shirt,¡± she said. He just laughed and grabbed his pile of clothes off the floor, kicking her shoes at her all the while.

    ¡°You hate my clothes. Seems like if you can¡¯t bleed on them, you¡¯ll just rip them apart.¡± Cat erupted into laughter as she slid on her shoes, then stepped up to him for a kiss.

    ¡°Then stop dressing like a dumbass. See you later.¡± She giggled and headed to the door, just in time for him to throw a loose button at the door frame. ¡°And learn how to aim. Thank God you¡¯re not a basketball player.¡± At the sound of his ¡°pff,¡± she just let out a laugh and shut the door behind her.

 Chapter 58

    The Walk of Shame wasn¡¯t something new to Cat, but this one...this one was different. Everything was normal. Students walked through the halls like zombies at the early hour, hardly talked to one another. The sun shone through the window on the far end of the hallway, just like it did every morning. But even though everything was the same, so much of it felt...new. Fresh. Vulnerable. Like a cold breeze, even though it must have been seventy degrees in the dorms.

    As she approached the elevator, the doors opened, as if ready for her, but she stopped immediately. Cam¡¯s voice.

    ¡°...pass, anyway. So, like, why bother?¡± Cat stumbled backward, toward the door of the stairwell, and opened it without thinking to go through it. Cameron walked out of the elevator, facing the other direction, talking to a redheaded guy that looked more displeased about being awake than anyone else she¡¯d seen so far. Her heartbeat was so loud in her ears she almost couldn¡¯t eavesdrop. Her limbs moved without direction, and her mind just kept repeating ¡°don¡¯t look over here¡± over and over again.

    ¡°It¡¯s too late to petition for pass-fail,¡± the redhead said miserably. Cat let the stairwell door shut in front of her face, sealing her away from Cam¡¯s path, and looked out the little window. Her friend didn¡¯t notice, and continued on his way to his dorm, waving to his friend. He didn¡¯t even look to see who shut the door, and just walked straight to his dorm room. Wait. Why did she just hide from Cam?

    Maybe there was more of a conversation to have with Peter than she thought, Cat realized as she made her way downstairs. She maybe couldn¡¯t handle everyone reacting to what happened on top of her own thoughts--this was hard enough without their constant opinions or jabbering. Or taunting. Oh, God, how was she going to handle Hannah? If her instinct was to hide from Cam, the most understanding of anyone in the group, there was absolutely no way she could deal with anything Hannah said.

    Oh God, what if Hannah¡¯s awake? Cat picked up the pace walking to her own dorm, and was thankful upon entering to discover that her roommate was still fast asleep, none the wiser. As silently and quickly as possible, Cat set her bag down, stripped off her dress, and grabbed for another to put on. The hanger banged against the other when she grabbed it, though, swing off the rack and clattered loudly against the plastic bin below. Really? she wanted to shout. Hannah stirred right as Cat stepped into the fresh dress.

    ¡°Oh, geez,¡± Hannah mumbled through her yawn. ¡°You got in late. I tried staying up¡­.¡± Another yawn. Cat twisted around with her hair already in her hands to prepare to throw it into a bun, and gave a tired smile to her roommate.

    ¡°Yeah, and I slept in a little. Running behind. We can catch up later. How late were you up?¡±

    Hannah had her eyes shut, but blindly felt around the dresser for her phone.

    ¡°I was up ¡¯til three. When did you get back?¡± Totally not just right now. Cat turned to her mirror to try and fix the leftover makeup from yesterday; it would be easier to lie if she didn¡¯t look at her right now.

    ¡°I must have just got in right after you passed out. I lost track of time. You know how I get¡­.¡± Hannah groaned.

    ¡°You¡¯re such a fucking nerd. We¡¯ll catch up at lunch.¡±

    ¡°Dinner--I¡¯ve got pre-calc. See you then.¡± And before Hannah could question her more, or find any flaws in what Cat said, she waved, grabbed her bag, and popped out of the dorm room again.

    Okay. Maybe she and Peter had to come up with answers sooner rather than later. Hopefully sooner would be a little easier. Maybe after some time alone, at work, she could sort herself out more.

    There was little time left between lattes and macchiatos, though. Midterms continued ravaging the campus, driving the caffeine-addicted procrastinators to steal her attention even though Cat desperately needed some time to think to herself. The fifteen minute break wasn¡¯t nearly enough.

    It was, at least, easy to get used to the idea of her stomach swirling like this. Everything from the past year just multiplied exponentially, the nerves, the excitement, that weird, soft and tender tug at her chest. Yet at the same time, none of this felt like the new relationships she¡¯d had in the past. Even her first boyfriend, with the intense and raw feelings, there was this light and fluctuating fragility. But when she left Peter¡¯s room this morning, there was something...heavy, comforting. Safe. She¡¯d see him later, and things would just pick up like before. Well...they certainly knew each other much longer, and much more intensely, than anyone she¡¯d ever been with before now. Whatever this was, it didn¡¯t follow any of the rules she knew. Where she used to be so scared and insecure, she knew that this--whatever this was--wasn¡¯t a fleeting moment. It was solid, constant.

    Peter¡¯s unanswered question still lingered after her shift, from this morning and that awful night of drinking. No, she thought to herself as she hung up her apron. She¡¯d never been in love before. She¡¯d said the words to her family, to friends, even boyfriends, but never in the way Peter asked. No one seemed to understand how weighted those words were. People said them in English all the time. To friends, to celebrities. But it wasn¡¯t as easy to say in other languages, like Spanish.

    Cat took her time walking to the library, to the group study room on the fifth floor where Peter texted he was. Would he ask her again? Would he be satisfied with ¡°I don¡¯t know¡±? She certainly wasn¡¯t. But it wasn¡¯t fair to even think about when she couldn¡¯t even handle the idea of what she would do if their friends found out everything that just happened. Besides, what if after all the excitement died down, things dulled? What if knowing the two full halves of Peter cancelled everything out? Or worse...what if she felt more than he did? What if right when she had an answer, and it happened to be an affirmative one, he decided it wasn¡¯t worth it? What if they couldn¡¯t get along after all?

    Cat found her way to Group Study Room 512, but couldn¡¯t erase the frown off her face. Through the glass door, she saw Peter hunched over his laptop, headphones in, laser-focused on something. He didn¡¯t even hear her open the door, which gave her a moment to try and plaster on a smile. He continued staring at his screen and typing as if his fingers were beating out a fire, even when she sat in the chair beside him. At least if he didn¡¯t notice her, she didn¡¯t have to spend the energy to pretend to know anything. But just a second more, Peter animated from his spot, pulled out his headphones and gave her a smile.

    ¡°Sorry, got in the zone.¡± His eyes were similar to this morning, waking from a trance, a little red. Cat smiled a little.

    ¡°Essay?¡± she asked. He nodded. ¡°Due tomorrow?¡± Another, much slower, nod.

    ¡°I...intended on doing it yesterday.¡± The way he said it, with a hint of mischief, made her giggle. She had an essay to submit, too. But later would be fine. It wasn¡¯t due until midnight.

    Cat leaned on her elbow a bit with pursed lips, the questions still floating in her head.

    ¡°So, um, did you see Cam this morning?¡± she asked, fully knowing the answer. Peter let out a heavy, annoyed sigh.

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    ¡°Be prepared for dinner. I got an earful before class, and lunch was--more than a little irritating.¡± Cat¡¯s face fell. What? Did Cam...not approve, or--?

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± she asked cautiously.

    ¡°He¡¯s in that, uh--moon phase, or...fase de luna--uh--¡± Oh, this was about Brad.

    ¡°Honeymoon phase,¡± she translated flatly. So Peter didn¡¯t tell Cam anything either. Why was this a surprise?

    ¡°Yes, honeymoon phase. He won¡¯t shut up.¡± This didn¡¯t settle her stomach. She nodded, though, and picked at her nails.

    ¡°So, um...our friends¡­,¡± she started slowly. Peter straightened in his chair, watching completely. But she didn¡¯t have anything else to add to it, she couldn¡¯t find the words. Peter waited a full minute before he started to speak.

    ¡°Well?¡± he asked through a sigh. Cat shrugged. ¡°You know me. I¡¯m...a fan of my privacy. Not one for PDA, really.¡± That was an understatement. Cat could only nod at that.

    "Except when you''re drunk," she remembered. Peter''s nervous chuckle made her smile. ¡°Yeah, I was¡­. I was kind of hoping that maybe this--¡± She gestured between them, her cheeks burning, ¡°Maybe this could be just ours for a while.¡± He relaxed a bit when she said this, and just nodded. ¡°I don¡¯t know if I¡¯m ready to deal with Hannah or¡­.¡± Now he frowned.

    ¡°Yeah¡­.¡± But Hannah knew so much. How in the world would they be able to shove all of that back into secrecy? And she had such a big mouth, even if just Hannah knew, there was no way she wouldn¡¯t tell Kelsey or Cam--there were no secrets between them. Thick as thieves. Cat and Peter were the outliers, the newbies in the group. But they always had secrets they didn¡¯t share with anyone else¡­. She¡¯d have to figure out how to stall Hannah. Peter seemed unbothered by it, though, and just waited for Cat¡¯s signal. She watched the gears in his mind turn, the way his eyes explored her face, how he leaned on one arm and just waited patiently.

    Now her stomach shifted to a lighter flutter, the more she stared at him. They sat so close already, but unlike the other times when this feeling overcame her, this pull and tender thumping of her heart, she had no reason to fight it. He just looked at her, understanding and patient. Did this count as PDA, if she tried to kiss him in the library? They certainly weren¡¯t being too secretive last night, making out in the elevator, the hallway. No one was around then, either, though.

    As she battled the semantics in her mind, Peter seemed to want to answer her question, and bent down to give her a small kiss. God, his lips were so soft. And the scratchiness of his stubble perfectly complemented his gentle movements.

    She wanted more than this, but he pulled away with words already on his tongue.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t you have some extra credit to do?¡± What a damn tease.

    <hr>

    Peter and Cat left the library at separate times so that they would arrive at dinner separately. She had half a mind to try and convince him to skip dinner, maybe say he got pulled into work or something so they could have some alone time in his room again...but she was, unfortunately, starving. And she was a little curious about Cameron¡¯s date.

    He was the last to arrive at their table for dinner, a plate full of pizza and a face full of smiles.

    ¡°Cat!¡± he announced as he sat down beside her and Peter, ¡°I didn¡¯t get to tell you about my date last night!¡± Peter caught his face with his hand, clearly annoyed. This would be his third time hearing every detail, at least. And throughout the entire time it took Cat to eat her taco salad, Cam detailed how Brad took him to a nice, little hole-in-the-wall place that served the best tapas around, how they saw a movie after, went back to Brad¡¯s place; at that point, Cat thought to pipe up:

    ¡°We don¡¯t need to know everything¡­,¡± she said carefully as she set aside her fork. Cameron disagreed, though, and insisted on its importance.

    ¡°You know how, like, when I hooked up with Brad last year?¡± Cat nodded, hoping her expression of discomfort would spare her some of the awful details. ¡°Well it turns out that was just a fluke! He¡¯s actually amazing! I thought he sucked super bad, which was a shame, because I kind of took that as a sign that we should part ways, but after all of that, we still talked and stuff¡­.¡± Hannah finally raised her hand to stop Cam, grinning.

    ¡°And then he realized that he¡¯s totally in love and to try and give him a chance!¡± she announced. Cat flinched. That word¡­.

    ¡°Yeah!¡± Cam agreed, laughing.

    ¡°Love?¡± she echoed, raising a brow. ¡°You guys are already saying that whole thing?¡±

    ¡°Well, when you know, you know!¡± was his simple answer. After he said this, he looked at her. ¡°What, you think it¡¯s too soon?¡± How was it up to her? Though, yes, it did look a lot too soon from her side of things. Then again, what kind of expert was she? She¡¯d been battling herself the whole year with her feelings of Peter-slash-Pumpkin, and she was no closer to an answer.

    ¡°I guess if you know,¡± said Cat with a shrug. Hannah¡¯s stare felt far too warm, but Kelsey didn¡¯t notice anything different.

    ¡°You ever say it before, Cat?¡± Kelsey asked. Well, saying it and meaning it were different things.

    ¡°In English, yeah, but not, like...,¡± she trailed off. Kelsey, Hannah, and Cameron all shot her a look of confusion. She stared at her empty aluminum bowl and poked at it with her fork.

    After a quiet moment, Peter spoke up. ¡°It¡¯s different in other languages sometimes.¡± At least someone understood. He and Cat were raised by a culture that was so different from their friends¡¯, even if Peter turned out to not exactly belong to what he practiced after all.

    ¡°Different how?¡± Cameron didn¡¯t seem to understand. Though maybe it was inappropriate to just assume that Cameron wasn¡¯t actually ¡°in love¡± with Brad. Maybe he was. Maybe he wasn¡¯t so scared to think about it like she was.

    ¡°It¡¯s like,¡± Cat started with a breath, ¡°in English, you can say things like, ¡¯Oh, I am in love with your shoes!¡ä or just tell your friends that you love them and all of that. It¡¯s not so simple in Spanish.¡± Cameron pursed his lips, but remained silent.

    Kelsey asked, ¡°You don¡¯t love your friends in Spanish?¡±

    Cat shook her head. ¡°Not like that. It¡¯s just...different words.¡± Kind of. ¡°Just...used sparingly. If you say ¡®Te amo¡¯ to someone, you¡¯re...it means you¡¯re, like, head over heels. It¡¯s--¡±

    ¡°Oh!¡± Hannah realized, nodding, ¡°Yes, I heard about that! Like German has, like, five different words for love or something like that? Like family love, friendly love, love-love?¡±

    ¡°Close enough,¡± was Peter¡¯s answer. Cat couldn¡¯t help it; she finally looked over to him, watching him, struggling to get any sort of feel for his thoughts on the matter. He said he¡¯d been in love before¡­.

    ¡°Okay,¡± Hannah continued. She looked to the ceiling as she synthesized her thoughts, then pointed to Cam. ¡°So, like, do you te amo this guy?¡± That question seemed to stump Cam a little more, and he just stared at her, blinking. Hannah now looked to Cat. ¡°You? You ever te amo anyone?¡± That stupid question, now full of shitty grammar. Cat sighed.

    ¡°I¡¯ve never said it in Spanish. I¡¯ve said it in English because I thought I was supposed to.¡±

    Cameron spoke over the last bit of what Cat had to say: ¡°You know, maybe! I think so! Why not?¡± Really? He just learned about the different kinds and he just had his answer, simple as that? Cat stared at him, her lips pursed together, and then dropped her gaze to her empty salad bowl.

    ¡°Well, I guess--I guess we¡¯re happy for you, Cam,¡± she said with a fake smile. She was, but just at that moment, it was difficult to smile about. Maybe he had more insight than she did about it. Maybe he was more experienced. Everyone here seemed to be.

    ¡°Thanks! We¡¯ve got another date coming up once he gets his work schedule.¡± Peter¡¯s eyes bulged for just a fraction of a moment; Cat bit back her laugh.

    ¡°Well, anyway, I¡¯ve got to submit an essay¡­.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ve got homework.¡±

    ¡°Me, too.¡±

    Cameron let out a sigh, seemingly satisfied and still floating in a cloud, and rose dramatically. ¡°Life is beautiful!¡± was his stupid announcement.

    Kelsey branched off to go to her own dorm building, leaving Hannah and Cam to continue their stupid conversation about how Brad was Cam¡¯s new soul mate, that it was so romantic that Cam swore off dating until he couldn¡¯t help but be with Brad.

    Cat gathered her trash and gave a glance over to Peter, who seemed to be hovering a little longer at the table while she gathered her dirty napkins. Right as Hannah and Cam turned to the trash can, Peter lowered his voice a little.

    ¡°Speaking of date,¡± he whispered under Hannah¡¯s laugh. ¡°Tomorrow night? Dinner?¡±

    Thank goodness she had to throw away her trash when Hannah and Cam returned. Her cheeks burned a deep red, emphasized by how much she tried to hide her smile. She managed to take a deep breath and twist to the group. Hannah and Cam already slowly started to walk to Casa del Sol, and Peter still watched her for her answer. She gave him a small nod, relishing in his dimpled smile, and fell in line with their friends.

    Peter opened the door for everyone, stepping back to let them out first. When Cat passed by him, he added, ¡°I¡¯ll bring my toupee.¡±

    She had to pretend to be in a coughing fit to avoid laughing too hard.

 Chapter 59

    At first, while walking the short distance from the elevator to their dorm, Cat easily kept the conversation on Cam and his new beau. She wasn¡¯t all that concerned about it, really, but by feigning slight worry, Hannah readily continued the conversation topic and didn¡¯t seem to want to switch to others...like, say, Peter.

    ¡°Has Cam been in love before?¡± Cat asked as she pushed open their dorm room door. A burst of cool air greeted them and attempted to shove them back into the hallway. ¡°Fuck! Left the window open¡­.¡± As they settled inside, shivering from their forgetfulness, Hannah still considered her question.

    She didn¡¯t answer until her shoes were off and she lay against her pillows, phone in hand.

    ¡°You know, I don¡¯t know,¡± she said. ¡°You sound really worried about it. What, is it the Spanish thing? Like you don¡¯t think he¡¯s actually in love or something?¡± After shutting the window, Cat managed to plug her phone in while it had two percent left, and let it set on her nightstand.

    ¡°It¡¯s not up to me. But he just said it so easily¡­. I would¡­. I don¡¯t know.¡± She settled into her desk chair and pressed her laptop to turn on, the fans roaring to life just as loud as their conversation. ¡°I¡¯d just be afraid of making it mean less, by saying it when I wasn¡¯t sure.¡± Did that even make sense? Hannah¡¯s laugh made it very clear she didn¡¯t think so.

    ¡°What, like the Boy Who Cried Wolf? You say it so much, people stop believing you?¡±

    Cat considered her words for a moment, then shrugged. ¡°Or it doesn¡¯t feel as strong. I don¡¯t know.¡± She didn¡¯t think her roommate would still find this funny. When she looked over, Hannah tapped away at her phone, but shook her head.

    ¡°The Boy Who Cried Wolf is a thing because there was never a wolf, you dummy.¡± She glanced up, still giggling. ¡°I think you¡¯re jealous.¡± Oh, no. She didn¡¯t like where this was going. ¡°Because Cam¡¯s never had any problems telling people how he¡¯s felt or where he stands, and while you normally don¡¯t, your worlds just got all twisted, so now you don¡¯t even know how you feel. And you¡¯re jealous that Cam does, even though he turned out to be wrong in the first place.¡± Well, if her words didn¡¯t feel like a cold gulp of ice running through her veins at that moment. Hannah had one last bite of sass for her: ¡°Like, your feelings haven¡¯t changed, only your perspective.¡± Cat twisted back to face her computer, unable to formulate the simplest thoughts to rebut what Hannah said. Thankfully, her roommate left it at that.

    <hr>

    Therapy usually made Cat feel a lot better. Somehow, even just sitting in the waiting room brought a little bit of tranquility to her otherwise chaotic thoughts. Dr. Harvey was a really nice constant that just reminded Cat, ¡°You¡¯re not crazy. You¡¯re human.¡± But now she sat in front of the doctor and her heart rate was just as high as it was during her first visit, when she had a panic attack without any prompting. Dr. Harvey was attempting to gently let Cat know that her free counseling sessions were coming to an end.

    ¡°I highly recommend this book, When Panic Attacks,¡± Dr. Harvey continued. She glanced to the overstuffed bookshelf behind her, searching for it. ¡°I believe someone is borrowing it at the moment. But the library should have a copy. Or you can get your own. I believe they sell work books if you think those exercises may help you.¡±

    ¡°But what if it gets worse?¡± Cat asked. Her fingers picked at one another. ¡°If--how do you know I¡¯m going to be okay? What if, when I stop coming here, I feel like I did before?¡± In reality, Cat hadn¡¯t thought about what would happen at all after therapy ended. She just...sort of figured it would keep happening. Dr. Harvey remained patient and sweet, though.

    ¡°Well, Catherine,¡± she stared with a small smile, ¡°the road to healing is not a straight line. There¡¯s a great chance you¡¯ll have relapses in your anxiety or panic attacks at some point in the future, whether or not you continue professional treatment. That doesn¡¯t mean the work you have done thus far wasn¡¯t good enough. Think of it like...writing an essay.¡± She ignored Cat¡¯s look of exasperation at first. ¡°Not all subjects are easy to write about. Sometimes some drafts and outlines are easier than others. That doesn¡¯t mean you¡¯re not good at writing essays. I believe you said you¡¯re quite good at them, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    Cat frowned. ¡°Essays don¡¯t make me feel like...this.¡± Like she would collapse into a tiny black hole at any moment.

    Dr. Harvey sobered a bit more, seeming to understand how little her analogy helped. ¡°My point is that you are doing everything right, even if you feel uncertain now.¡± Cat went to interrupt, but Dr. Harvey held up a hand. ¡°And my point was that even if you feel some relapsing, it doesn¡¯t undo what you¡¯ve done. Your efforts will help make whatever you might go through easier to handle, but it won¡¯t stop them from happening all together.¡±

    The words bubbled to her lips before she even realized they were there: ¡°But there are other students who get therapy longer. How is that fair?¡±

    ¡°If students wish to maintain therapy after the free sessions complete, they pay for them.¡± Dammit. Cat grit her teeth. ¡°We can absolutely start the process to arrange that. I just want to make sure you have all the other resources as well.¡±

    ¡°How much per session?¡± she asked through a sigh. The odds of being able to afford that were...minimal.

    Dr. Harvey glanced to her desk, then rose from her seat to approach the drawers. As she opened them, she started to pull out several sheets of paper from different file folders.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have that information, but I have some resources to help you navigate with your insurance to try and get some or all of it covered. Not all insurances are willing to work out-of-network, but yours may.¡± After gathering half a dozen pieces of paper, she started grabbing a few more, colored pages that were a bit thicker, as well as a few brochures. ¡°We are also not the only option around here, or at all.¡± After punching a staple through the small stack with a deep crunch, Dr. Harvey handed the stack to Cat and lowered herself to her chair. ¡°In that packet, there are guidelines to speak to insurance, how to research nearby help, and a few trusted practices in the city.¡±

    Cat flipped through the thick pages in her lap, hesitating on a page that listed some of Dr. Harvey¡¯s favorite books and workbooks for cheaper or free aid. Would this even be enough? What if her insurance wouldn¡¯t cover anything, and she got stuck like this, and nothing else helped, and she got worse? What if everything she did up until now would just...go away, leaving her a husk of a human with no will? When she looked up to Dr. Harvey, her expression must have looked a little pathetic. This packet felt little different from a Dear John letter.

    Dr. Harvey sat a little further forward on her chair. ¡°For this moment, this is our last session. But you aren¡¯t being abandoned. Okay? In that packet are also a few reminder worksheets we¡¯ve gone through, like Distorted Thinking and Breathing Techniques. I know you have those, but it¡¯s always good to have an extra copy.¡± As Dr. Harvey maintained a small, pleasant smile, Cat stared at her, letting the stack of papers grow heavy on her lap. The pages flopped over her knee.

    There was nothing for her to say. It took her so long to come to terms with even coming here in the first place, and now the school was kicking her out. What, because the tuition wasn¡¯t high enough? Because dorm room rent wasn¡¯t high enough, or text books didn¡¯t cost an arm and a leg? They charged for parking on the campus, even. They charged for freshman tutoring! They sucked every possible dollar out of everyone and they couldn¡¯t even afford to keep anyone sane?

    Cat¡¯s throat thickened when she swallowed and dropped her gaze.

    ¡°It took so much for me to come here and now¡­.¡± She shook her head. The irony wasn¡¯t lost on her.

    ¡°The school year is coming to an end soon. You¡¯ll be home with family by the end of the month. Worst case scenario, come back next year when your free sessions reset and we can come back with a solid plan.¡± As if she needed to be reminded how little time she had left this year. Finals...friends...Peter¡­.

    With her heart in her throat, Cat finally nodded. ¡°Okay,¡± she said, sighing. ¡°Sounds like a plan.¡±

    The goodbye with Dr. Harvey was a little bitter, despite how much she kept repeating ¡°Look how far you¡¯ve come,¡± and ¡°You¡¯ll be just fine.¡± Maybe she would be okay. Maybe her newfound panic attacks would be fewer and farther between, or she wouldn¡¯t have any at all.

    <hr>

    Despite the rough start to her day, the butterflies in Cat¡¯s stomach kept her mood up. Hannah didn¡¯t seem to notice--or if she did, she at least didn¡¯t say anything. She¡¯d anticipated at least a few more interrogations about what she was going to do with the Peter situation, but they never came. Maybe Hannah understood how difficult it was...or maybe she just had other things to worry about.

    Lunch with the group felt like God pulled her nerves taut like a string.

    ¡°We should go to a movie tonight!¡± Hannah announced, glancing among the different members of the group. ¡°Friday night! We should go out and hang together while we still can!¡±

    ¡°Yeah! There¡¯s that new superhero movie that just came out--¡± Kelsey started while she looked at her phone. ¡°I wanted to see it. Let me look up movie times.¡± Cam and Hannah burst into some sort of excited theories of what would happen; Cat, meanwhile, glanced at Peter. She tried not to look panicked.

    ¡°Um,¡± Peter interrupted, ¡°tomorrow would be better for me. How about tomorrow?¡±

    Cam¡¯s gaze snapped to him. ¡°Tomorrow? What¡¯s wrong with tonight?¡± Uh. Uhhh¡­excuse, uh--

    ¡°Tomorrow¡¯s better for me, too,¡± Cat said, shrugging. ¡°Covering for Jeffrey tonight.¡± Hannah looked a millisecond away from giving her a look of confusion, before she added, ¡°Or you can all go without me. That¡¯s fine, too.¡±

    ¡°Oh, no!¡± Kelsey had none of it, to her relief. ¡°Tomorrow¡¯s fine. Actually, no, better. I¡¯ve got an online quiz tonight, so, like, that¡¯s better. Yeah.¡± Hannah seemed to forget her suspicions for at least the moment to hop on the ¡°well, yeah, tomorrow is better¡± train.

    ¡°And you can invite Brad,¡± Cat added for extra measure. And, like a charm, Cameron decided that Brad was the best and only topic to talk about for the rest of lunch. And, thanks to her new excuse, Cat would be able to skip out later without any questions she couldn¡¯t answer.

    <hr>

    It made no sense that she was this nervous, that her hands literally shook, even while she walked to the parking lot. Did this count as a first date? They had others...even if they weren¡¯t in person. And with the other night, everything being so out and the open¡­.

    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    Peter waited for her beside his stupid, douchey truck with a smile on his face.

    ¡°Look at you,¡± was the first thing he said when she walked up to him. Her cheeks burned.

    ¡°What about me?¡± she prompted, stepping up to him. It was a bit of a challenge; he didn¡¯t like PDA, but he didn¡¯t move back. He stared down at her, eyes twinkling.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, apparently I¡¯ve got bad taste, so it¡¯s probably more of a compliment if I say you look terrible.¡± She stepped on her tippy-toes to give him a kiss through her laughter. He kissed her back, but kept it short. She hummed at him.

    ¡°So what are we doing tonight?¡±

    ¡°I was thinking of two options: dinner then a movie, or dinner and a movie.¡± She shot him a quizzical look as he led her to the passenger side of his truck and opened the door for her. As she hopped in, he finally explained, ¡°There¡¯s a drive-in not that far away. Wasn¡¯t sure if you were into that.¡± Oh!

    ¡°Never been to a drive-in before.¡± Peter rounded the front of the truck to get in, and shot her a grin.

    ¡°Then drive-in it is!¡± Even though it turned out that the only movie showing around the time they would get there was the new superhero one that Kelsey wanted to see tomorrow night. But after a quick drive-thru of Chinese food, they found a spot at the Drive In Theatre of Bay Area, and hopped in the back of the truck.

    Peter planned carefully, it seemed. In the bed of his truck were a couple blankets and pillows to sit on, even some paper plates and utensils from the food commons at school. It did ease the butterflies in her stomach to watch him lay out everything perfectly, the way he fluffed the pillow for her to sit on, how he tucked the corner of the blanket perfectly against the wall of the truck, even how he set a paper towel under the bag of Chinese food. He¡¯d been thinking about this as much as she did. And based on the fact that she never even saw his desk in his room nearly as neat as he placed everything tonight, he was nervous, too. Which was ridiculous, considering how much they¡¯d been through together.

    Cat settled next to him with her plate of food, legs crossed so that her knee touched his thigh, and looked up at him while he snapped his set of chopsticks in two.

    ¡°What date number is this? One or three?¡± Cat asked the minute he took a bite of his chicken. He laughed, chewing rapidly, before he asked, ¡°What are you, a waitress? Asking a question right as I take a bite?¡± Cat beamed.

    ¡°I was just wondering,¡± she said, shrugging. ¡°I mean...this is¡­.¡± The words were supposed to come out easier than this. But now her throat closed up the more he watched her, waiting.

    ¡°Intense?¡± he finished. Perhaps that word fit the best. She shrugged.

    ¡°It¡¯s been¡­it¡¯s been a year.¡± She didn¡¯t have to tell him twice. Everything she had gone through felt so tiny compared to him. Loss of a parent, loss of a family¡­. She watched him remember, his chopsticks paused over his food. His response boiled down to a slow nod, but by the way he hesitated, the way he didn¡¯t move, kept a feeling of unfinished business in the air. They eventually finished eating in silence through the advertisements on the massive screen in front of them, all the way until the sun fully disappeared behind the screen and their takeout boxes were empty.

    Cat leaned her head on Peter¡¯s arm for a moment, until he pulled her into the crook under his shoulder, fully hugging her close. Words still danced on her tongue, though none of them were full and coherent. And snuggling into him, fully feeling his warmth, didn¡¯t make the thoughts any easier to come by.

    ¡°This is really nice,¡± she eventually settled with saying. Peter agreed by planting a kiss on the side of her head, and pulled one of the blankets up to cover their laps. The sound from his radio speakers indicated the start of the previews: more superhero movies, coming out this summer. She didn¡¯t care for them much, but Peter mumbled something about being curious about the second one that came on.

    Summer¡­. Summer break was less than a month away, and everything would change again. Things were already changing. She couldn¡¯t even go to therapy anymore. Couldn¡¯t find relief for the anxiety. What if, when she went home, everything returned? What if she felt like a zombie again, and left all of her feelings here? What if these moments with Peter were some of the final moments she¡¯d ever have where she felt something good, let alone anything?

    The rest of the previews zoomed by unremarkably, like a high-pitched ring in her ears, faster than her heartbeat and without any variation from the pulsating in her limbs. Everything was the same, explosion here, intense music, random ¡°eye-catching¡± words. Everything bright and overwhelming and loud to the point the truck vibrated. It wasn¡¯t until the opening credits of the movie they paid to see that the rhythm changed, that she noticed Peter rubbed her arm in time to something that didn¡¯t match the music. One, two, three, four¡­.

    All of that turbulence from what she thought was the sound system turned out to be originating from her. Cat sucked in a breath, finally, realizing she could change the pace at which she did so. She rubbed her eyes, careful to avoid smudging her makeup, and silently thanked God that she didn¡¯t cry this time. Where did this come from? A freaking anxiety attack? When sitting and watching a stupid movie?

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± Peter asked in her ear. His warm breath sent a shiver down her spine. Comfort. Warmth. She blinked.

    ¡°Y-yeah,¡± she sounded. Though now every limb quivered like she just ran the fastest mile in her life, and she had nothing to show for it. Now that she was acutely aware of every little thing, she couldn¡¯t even remember the titles of the movies that just flashed before her.

    Peter didn¡¯t seem to mind that she distracted him from the opening scene.

    ¡°Do you want to talk about it or be distracted from it?¡± Cat sighed and closed her eyes a moment; his heart beat in her ear, his warmth radiating through his t-shirt. How did he even know what was going on, if she didn¡¯t?

    ¡°I had my last¡­. I had my last counseling appointment today,¡± she explained quickly. Despite the fact that he had every right to be smug about it, Peter didn¡¯t say a word. He didn¡¯t even move. ¡°I guess I was just...feeling time pass.¡±

    ¡°You can continue it, if you¡¯re worried,¡± was his answer. She shrugged.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s an option for me.¡± She tried to sound like she was finished talking, but Peter shifted and forced her to sit up a bit more, to look at him. Despite her attempt at gesturing to the screen, he ignored the subtitles indicating some important, foreign conversation that would come up later in the movie.

    ¡°I¡¯m uninsured and I pay fifty bucks an appointment.¡± Ouch, no. Definitely not an option at the moment. Cat shook her head.

    ¡°It¡¯s dumb, right?¡± She tried to make it a joke, tried to smile. He didn¡¯t seem to find it funny, and she was out of breath. Peter¡¯s other hand found hers, and he laced their fingers together. Somehow, it made her heart slow down. Maybe for now, at least until the summer, she¡¯d be okay. Peter seemed to be an expert in...this. He could help her figure it out for now. Cat stared at their fingers and frowned. ¡°What are...what are your plans for the summer?¡± All these worries about returning home and not being here...but what were his options? He didn¡¯t have a home anymore.

    Peter sighed. ¡°Well, the summer semester starts a week after this one ends, so...I guess just more school. I was going to try and get another job, too, to try and build up a savings. I have a lighter class load.¡± Cat blinked. More school? No breaks? She remembered when the thought of that wasn¡¯t exhausting. Before last year, she¡¯d never had a break...and now, she could hardly find her three day weekends enough rest.

    ¡°You¡¯re staying here,¡± she summarized. He just nodded, unbothered, but waited for her reply. The colors of the bright superhero costumes reflected on his face, the reds and oranges intensifying the sunset the movie screen hid. Cat sighed. All these worries...every fear she felt, he had to deal with tenfold. Boo-hoo, she had to go home to her family. Oh, darn, she had to take a break from her education and just work through it all. But Peter would be left here, alone¡­.

    ¡°What?¡± He watched her distress with curiosity.

    ¡°Do you think you¡¯ll get much time off?¡± While she thought of whether or not she could swing getting a couple days off here and there, he seemed confident in his nod.

    ¡°I think I can take some time off, drive up and visit you sometimes,¡± he answered. His dimples made her smile.

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t freak you out?¡± She squinted at him. ¡°Thinking that far ahead?¡± Peter furrowed his brows, seemingly amused.

    ¡°It¡¯s not like plans can be cancelled or anything,¡± he said sarcastically. Her heart skipped a beat. ¡°And--I like thinking that maybe things will...continue like this. We did long-distance for a while, and that worked out. And this is objectively better than that, so¡­.¡± She awarded him a courtesy laugh, then snuggled back into his shoulder with a sigh. Well, if he didn¡¯t mind, it certainly made her feel a little more stabilized. Maybe he could indulge her fantasies a little more.

    She continued, ¡°It might be hard for me to ask for time off, but--but maybe if I work enough doubles, I can stop working early, maybe come down in mid-August instead of September.¡± That was, if Cheryl was still manager at Sippy Cup Cafe. Cheryl was the only manager that ever gave her extra hours.

    Peter¡¯s curiosity returned. ¡°Why...specifically mid-August?¡± Was he stupid?

    ¡°For your birthday...and¡­.¡± She hated watching him remember what else happened in August. The loss, the pain. ¡°Your dad¡¯s¡­. I don¡¯t want you to be alone then, either.¡± Peter studied her, seemingly surprised.

    ¡°I--I don¡¯t think I told you when he died,¡± was his weird answer. She raised a brow.

    ¡°Um, no...but...I saw the time stamp of your picture with him--from Dia de Muertos.¡± Well, now she kind of felt like a stalker. But she continued, dropping her gaze, ¡°and orientation was late-August, and you were already a dick by then, and I think you said something about being off because of him dying at that time, so I thought....¡± And before he could think she was a creep, she looked up and added, ¡°And you told me your birthday. Well--I mean, you told Insultcatapult your birthday. So I¡¯m not a complete stalker, okay!¡±

    Peter¡¯s gaze was soft as he shook his head at her. He muttered something so quiet she could hardly hear him over the music from the movie. She strained to hear him, leaning forward, only to hear the last bit, ¡°...bendici¨®n de Dios."

    ¡°What?¡± What was he saying about God? It sounded almost like some sort of prayer. But Peter responded only by cupping her cheeks in his hands, pulling her into a gentle, though unexpected, kiss. Underneath the confusion, his tenderness sang through, like he was thanking her for something she¡¯d never understand. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead on hers, holding her close as if she would drift away any moment. Her breath took its time to return, but she held his hands on her face, keeping the air tight and hot.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t hear what you said,¡± she admitted, her eyes still closed. Peter kissed her again.

    ¡°You just¡­.¡± When he sighed, she pulled away to look in his eyes. ¡°When you look at me, it feels like you actually see me.¡± Her thumb mindlessly rubbed against his as she considered his words. ¡°Even when you¡¯re not looking at me, you still see me.¡± He brought forth words she didn¡¯t know she was missing. That pull, the tug in her chest whenever he was around. Maybe he felt it like that, too. Everything always existed before now, of course. But ever since that rope pulled at her heart, it felt as if everything happened more vibrantly.

    Cat sighed and eventually let his hands drift away from her face, but still held them with hers. Any time the fear of this uncharted territory came up, he stood right there, unknowingly comforting her. It wasn¡¯t so scary standing on a cliff with him holding her hand. And while her heart jumped to her throat, while her blood pulsed through her veins faster than she could handle, Cat nodded to him. She definitely knew what he meant about being seen.

    ¡°Well,¡± she said instead, cracking a smile, ¡°you¡¯re easy on the eyes.¡± The light in his gaze dulled just a little; he still looked at her, though now with a noticeable dejection.

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­.¡± The weight of the air pulled his gaze to their hands in her lap. ¡°That¡¯s not really what I meant.¡± She squeezed his hands, hoping to catch his attention.

    ¡°I know what you meant,¡± she added with a peck on his lips. He glanced at her gently, and gestured to the screen, as if silently releasing her from the moment. Cat cuddled into his side fully, leaning to where she nearly lay upon him, and pulled the blanket to cover them from the cooling air of twilight.

    Vibrant, intense¡­comfortable. Safe. Warm. A gift from God, she recalled hearing him say. Even though a rather well-choreographed fight scene played out in front of her eyes, Cat couldn¡¯t find herself to pay attention. All of it was so dull compared to what played out in the bed of a douchey truck.

    It was maybe an hour later, when the superhero¡¯s mentor turned out to be working for the villain all along, when a quiet thought entered Cat¡¯s mind. She listened to Peter¡¯s heart without much effort, though found it the easiest thing to listen to, even over a relatively captivating soundtrack. This comfort, this contentment that only grew every moment she spent with him and showed no signs of slowing: maybe she didn¡¯t know what it was before. Maybe she couldn¡¯t bring herself to put a word to it.

    But now, if she played Never Have You Ever with Peter and he drunkenly accused her of never knowing love before, she would confidently dump her drink on his head.

    There was no way someone could feel like this, and it not be love. She was sure of it now.

 Chapter 60

    As soon as she had the feeling pinned down, it was difficult for her to get the thoughts out of her head. Her aching chest, her heartbeat, the way her fingers sometimes felt numb if he touched her too gently, or the way her veins caught fire when she only thought of his name or gave him a quick glance. Every moment felt like proof. No wonder why there were so many stories of war due to love: It was addicting, powerful. Nothing ever made her feel so invulnerable as Peter when he looked at her with a smile.

    ¡°Did your brother ever find the egg you hid under his bed?¡±

    ¡°Oh my God, I have no idea!¡± Cat admitted. The laughter that bubbled in their throats was just because of him, because of the raw heat he brought from her chest.

    It was well past midnight now, as Peter pulled into the parking lot of the school. After the movie, they drove to the park beside campus, where they¡¯d met their friends before for that awful ¡°photoshoot¡± for the fake Facebook profile. Parked under a canopy of trees with the moonlight pouring through so bright and beautiful, three hours passed while they just sat in the truck and talked, holding hands, sometimes kissing, mostly making stupid jokes and kind of insulting each other at the same time as they flirted.

    But they reluctantly returned to campus when Cat yawned too big to hide it behind her hand, which then made Peter remember how tired he was, and alas--now they slowly made their way to their dorm.

    ¡°We should probably go in separately just in case,¡± Peter said through a sigh. Casa del Sol was just over this hill. To nail the reminder in further, his fingers began to slip from hers. Cat frowned instinctively, but nodded. She was the one to tell Peter for them to just...keep things quiet. Even if pretending he didn¡¯t exist when he stood right in front of her was getting to be a little difficult.

    Their friends would find out eventually. But she was in no rush for that...undoubtedly unbearable situation.

    ¡°So I guess I¡¯ll see you tomorrow at the movies?¡± Cat asked with a smirk. Well, at least she¡¯d get to fully pay attention to the movie this time. She¡¯d be able to figure out what actually happened. Tonight, by the end of the movie, she couldn¡¯t even figure out why the superhero was fighting the villain when the mentor was the one to ruin everything.

    ¡°I¡¯ll ignore you tomorrow at the movies,¡± Peter agreed. ¡°You go ahead and walk first. Then I can make sure you got in okay.¡± She rolled her eyes, stifling the laugh in her throat.

    ¡°Do you want me to text you when I get into bed safely?¡± she teased as she took a few steps forward. As she lifted her phone to prove she had it, Peter cocked a brow.

    ¡°Depends what you¡¯re wearing to bed tonight. Maybe you should video call so I can be sure someone didn¡¯t run off with your phone.¡±

    Cat was still laughing at him by the time she got into the building. Another piece of proof to her hold. Another reason to love him.

    <hr>

    Cameron invited Brad to the movies after all--which was good, because then Cat could pretend that her giddiness was from getting to know him rather than spend more time with Peter. Cam remained the butt of all the jokes, but as usual, reveled in the attention.

    ¡°Maybe we¡¯ll see you in the movie,¡± Kelsey said, nudging Brad in the elbow, ¡°if you managed to get him to settle. That¡¯s a superpower in and of itself.¡± While Cat was reminded why she absolutely must keep what she and Peter had a secret, Cameron glowed and turned to his date with a grin wider than the horizon.

    ¡°What can I say?¡± said Cam. ¡°When you know, you know.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have superpowers,¡± Brad said through a laugh. Even through his dark complexion, it was very easy to tell he was blushing. ¡°I mean--Cat!¡± Breaking from the attention, he gestured to her. ¡°You took an impossible situation and still came out on top!¡± What? Her smile faltered.

    ¡°I--what do you mean?¡± For a brief moment, she panicked. Did everyone suddenly know about her and Peter--or PumpkinKing?

    ¡°You know¡­,¡± Brad prompted. ¡°Nate.¡± Now her stomach turned to stone.

    ¡°What about him,¡± was her flat reply. Peter stiffened next to her; though she couldn¡¯t see his face, she knew he looked to Cam with some sort of furious expression for some sort of answer.

    Brad shrunk, guilty. ¡°Well, I mean--I just meant you¡¯re really smart about how you went about it all.¡± He spoke quickly as the energy got sucked from the group. ¡°With...Thomas¡­?¡± Cameron cleared his throat. Though the two hadn¡¯t known each other for long, Brad got the hint: hurry up. ¡°I mean, you knew he was protected with his scholarship, so you targeted his housing by going to Thomas.¡± Even Kelsey shot Brad a look that could easily be summed up with, get to your point or shut up. ¡°Thomas and his parents were liable for...Nate¡¯s...activities¡­?¡± Cat remained silent. ¡°So...the housing¡­?¡±

    ¡°Brad,¡± Cameron urged through his teeth, forcing a grin no one believed. ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    Brad visibly gulped. ¡°Sorry. I just mean¡­. I thought that you went to Thomas about it because you knew that would make him and his parents liable for any illegal thing that Nate did. It¡¯s a felony. They¡¯re responsible for the property and everything that happens on it, including underaged drinking and--well, other stuff.¡± Cat¡¯s eyes found the disgusting, sticky floor of the theatre. ¡°So they had to...get him to leave¡­. I--I¡¯m sorry. I really thought that was...what happened. Everyone¡¯s saying that¡¯s what you did to get him to leave on his own. It--it was, we all think it¡¯s really smart.¡± Everyone. He meant Cam. That¡¯s what Cam was saying.

    The silence that fell over the group was sharp and uncomfortable. Brad looked positively horrified that he¡¯d miss-read or miss-understood the situation, and just stood there, covering his mouth as if he could take the words back.

    ¡°That¡¯s--that¡¯s not what I meant to do,¡± Cat said after a moment of silence. ¡°But--but it worked, I guess.¡± Kind of. There was no record, no way to make sure he never did it again. By the time she¡¯d stopped blaming herself, the drugs were out of her system, and the evidence was gone. But...well, at least every girl at BAU was safe. Maybe he would think twice about it next time, or maybe Thomas¡¯ words scared him away from that kind of thing. But the thought never comforted her.

    ¡°We¡¯re next--¡± Peter interrupted, gesturing to the cashier at the concession stand. ¡°Um, large popcorn?¡± That seemed to be the awkward interruption they needed to physically move from the spot. Cat was thankful that Peter could find an end to the tension so fast--and her stupid chest floated at the thought. Another reason to love him.

    While they lined up to place their order for snacks, Brad leaned in close to Cat¡¯s ear.

    ¡°I¡¯m really, really sorry--¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± she insisted, plastering on a false smile. ¡°Really. It¡¯s all over now. Doesn¡¯t matter.¡± Maybe that was too much of a performance. Even Brad could see through that ruse.

    Hannah recited everyone¡¯s order loudly and with a shrill voice. Cat just nodded, not listening, though she was fairly certain that Hannah forgot to order her peanut butter M&Ms. It was as if the air conditioning hissed too loudly for anything else to pass through her ears, that the sound of the slushy machine mimicked the tone of her bones, too loud for anything else to get through. The short walk to the theatre passed by in a blink, and before she knew it, Hannah physically shoved her shoulders to move forward in the line to fill the seats.

    It wasn¡¯t until she collapsed into a seat beside Peter that she realized that Hannah was being...well, herself. Hannah hadn¡¯t noticed a single moment of her roommate¡¯s panic, and was still in matchmaker mode. She must have thought she was so clever, ¡°forcing¡± her roommate to sit next to Peter.

    At least Peter was aware of what was happening. Cat stared at the advertisements on the screen as if they were something she needed to memorize. Graphic design is our passion! claimed a poorly-drawn PowerPoint slide.

    ¡°Are you counting?¡± His words interrupted her. Counting...was she? Well, yes, it turned out that in her zombie-like state, her breathing was methodical, structured by the beat perfectly. It seemed to be the only way that she kept moving, far enough into the ripped theatre chair. Cat blinked at him.

    ¡°A-am--do I look like I¡¯m having a¡­?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± Peter shook his head at her, his eyebrows furrowed in earnest. ¡°I just...know what to look for.¡± Oh, if she could only kiss him¡­. But for now, a gentle brush of his hand at her thigh indicated that under the arm rest, maybe they could at least touch one another¡¯s fingers without anyone noticing. Cat raised one of her legs so that her foot rested on the seat to block Hannah¡¯s view, just in case, and let her hand rest softly into his.

    ¡°What do you look for?¡± she asked quietly, struggling to make it look like she didn¡¯t say anything to him. Thankfully, Hannah was in the middle of laughing at a joke Kelsey said, blind to any tenderness next to her.

    ¡°Mine look like anger.¡± The words shocked her into facing him again. Anger. His anxiety attacks--or at least the beginnings of one looked like anger? All the moments that she frustrated him on purpose flooded to her at once; the fear must have shown on her face.

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    ¡°I--did I--?¡± Before she could even ask, he shook his head, twisting to her.

    ¡°No. No, I promise. You never--¡± Peter squeezed her hand, forcing her to pay careful attention. ¡°You pissing me off never--¡± The relief flooded to her eyes just as quickly as Peter looked over her shoulder. In a moment, his gaze snapped to the screen, and Cat mirrored him, her heart slamming against her chest. From the corner of her eye, she could see Hannah staring.Peter continued, ¡°You pissing me off never gave me a panic attack.¡± She acknowledged his words by laughing too hard at the advertisement on the screen, and squeezing his hand in reply. She kept her smile on, just to show him for a moment that she understood. But that, aside from periodically squeezing his hand during the movie, was the only communication with him that she risked.

    <hr>

    Cat was disappointed to find that she was more impressed with the movie before she knew what actually happened. While Cam, Peter, and Brad exclaimed over how cool the action sequences were, Cat frowned while Hannah and Kelsey just checked their phones.

    ¡°It¡¯s...it just looked like when little boys play with toys,¡± sighed Hannah.

    ¡°Yeah. I was hoping for...I don¡¯t know, something to make me care,¡± Cat agreed.

    ¡°Omigod, Cat,¡± Kelsey shouted, shoving her phone at her. ¡°Tell your stupid brother to get off my sister¡¯s Facebook page. Ew!¡± Cat stared, wide-eyed, at her friend while the group slowed to a stop. Kelsey stole back her phone and muttered something under her breath.

    ¡°Woah, your siblings know each other?¡± Brad asked, laughing. ¡°What a small world!¡±

    Kelsey rolled her eyes. ¡°I asked my sister to befriend a fake profile that had Cat¡¯s face on it so that Peter¡¯s little brother would accept the friend request, and stupid Gabe took it as an invitation to hit on Abigail like a little--¡±

    ¡°Watch it!¡± Cat warned. The stupid, little narc might have been a traitorous dweeb, but that was not for anyone else to say.

    Brad stared at them, looking amongst the group for any hint of clarity. ¡°I literally caught none of that.¡± Cameron started to explain the admittedly strange ordeal, but Cat spoke over them.

    ¡°I have no control over my stupid brother! He narced on me to my parents! They think I¡¯m some sort of criminal!¡±

    Hannah laughed loudly and continued her way toward Kelseys¡¯ car and Peter¡¯s truck, before Peter joined in her amusement.

    ¡°At least he never found the egg!¡± he reminded, positively alight with mischief. Cat shook her head, which only threw him into a fit.

    ¡°Egg?¡± Hannah echoed. ¡°What egg?¡±

    Cat hid her laughs with a hand over her mouth. ¡°To, um...to get revenge for that, I hid an egg under his bed in an old sock.¡± The rest of the group rewarded her with boisterous laughter, and jokes about how smelly her younger brother must be all the way back to the dorms.

    Hannah only stopped joking when they were alone, stepping out of the elevator on the second floor of Casa del Sol.

    ¡°So--you and Peter, huh?¡±

    Cat cleared her throat, sobering. Hannah had no business understanding the feeling of ingesting helium just by hearing a name.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°You and Peter--what were you talking about before the movie?

    ¡°The movie,¡± came her obvious reply. Hannah hesitated with her keys outside their dorm room door, so Cat pulled out her own.

    ¡°The movie, huh? Oooh, what about it?¡±

    Cat hesitated with her key in the lock. ¡°Uh, just--I was wondering where that main actor was from.¡±

    ¡°Which one?¡±

    ¡°The white guy, the one with blue eyes--uh, Chris Something.¡± Finally, Cat managed to get the door open.

    Hannah let out a loud ¡®hmm¡¯ before she answered, ¡°Oh, he¡¯s from the other movie that came out last year. We saw it in the Commons for Movie Night.¡± She could hardly remember the night, but decided to keep up with her lie: ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s what Peter said.¡±

    ¡°Hmm.¡± Hannah studied her for a moment before shoving through the doorway. ¡°Okay.¡±

    As Cat shut the door behind her, her phone vibrated, indicating a message. A text. From Peter.

    Wish I could say good night in person¡­. She smiled, but kept it to herself as she threw her purse on the bed and pulled out her pajamas from her dirty laundry basket. How could she make fun of Cam and Brad when she obviously went through something similar with Peter? Well, maybe not similar. Maybe everything she felt with Peter was unique and totally hers, just as Cam¡¯s feelings were his.

    Maybe the fluttering in her stomach and the uncontrollable urge to smile was just something she shared, privately, through texts she¡¯d never show anyone else.

    I have an idea, she text him back as Hannah changed for bed.

    Video chat with what you¡¯re wearing to bed?

    Cat bit her lips to stop herself from laughing, and hung her dorm room key around her neck before excusing herself from the room.

    We can meet in the stairwell before we go to sleep to say good night, she said. While she still had to wash her face really quick, the nerves prickled at the edge of her stomach.

    Peter was a fast texter. Omg. She couldn¡¯t help but laugh at him.

    Is that no?

    No, you¡¯re just a sap.

    So¡­? She already knew his answer, but it was nice to get confirmation.

    Meet you there in a few minutes.

    <hr>

    Even though her pit stop to the bathroom was literally three minutes--enough time to wash her face, brush her teeth, and go to the stairwell, Peter still beat her to the spot they were supposed to meet. She giggled when she opened the door and spotted him at the top of the ramp.

    ¡°So this was a terrible idea, huh?¡± she joked when he saw her. Peter shrank in on himself as he laughed, watching her ascend the steps.

    ¡°You know, every step you take, I expect you to get taller. Then it hits me: you won¡¯t.¡± He dodged her weak attempt at a smack on his arm by just reaching for it. He grasped her hand in his, pulling her closer, pressing her palm to his face. His cheek was so warm against her hand; he must have felt that rush from seeing her, just like she did. Wrapping her other arm around him, and feeling him form around her felt more natural than breathing air.

    His lips, soft with the harsh tickle of his stubble, pulled her into the moment. His skin hot to her touch, his breathing shallow and timid; drinking in this sudden moment, this protective shield he pulled her into. Nothing could break it, nothing could come close. Her heartbeat synced with his in just one breath, his kiss so breathtakingly perfect that when he pulled away, he had to pull her closer so she wouldn¡¯t collapse.

    Part of her wondered if he¡¯d make fun of her for it, for falling into the moment so easily, for melting into him as if it was second nature--but she hardly had time to finish the thought before his fingertips found the gentle hallows of her neck, before the moment returned, stronger, like a passing storm on the sea.

    Maybe it would have been easier to keep their meetings a secret if she didn¡¯t feel like jell-o after, every time. But for a full week, every night after they said good night, Cat had to give herself an extra minute to compose herself, because watching him close the door to the stairwell while she stood there, barefoot on the filthy concrete, was not enough to break whatever spell overcame them.

    It was getting ridiculous.

    While the air grew harder to breathe, her thoughts wavered between overwhelming comfort and momentary panic. Sure, understanding what she felt for Peter was nice and all, but there was only so many times she could think about it before becoming overwhelmingly anxious over what he felt. She started to make stupid mistakes, from either walking into the wrong classroom to just forgetting to lie to Hannah.

    ¡°You took a while to get back tonight,¡± Hannah noticed one night.

    ¡°Oh. You know,¡± Cat replied airily, without realizing.

    ¡°Do I?¡± The only thing to snap her out of her daydreams was Hannah¡¯s stupid, amused expression.

    ¡°Uh--yeah,¡± she said, blinking. ¡°Long line to the bathroom. You know.¡±

    ¡°Mmhmm.¡±

    Her roommate stopped asking about Peter all together by the time a full week had gone by. Everything turned to...normal. The new normal, anyway.

    <hr>

    Cat and Peter stood in the stairwell again, holding each other, giggling, stealing kisses and reminiscing about the day they spent apart.

    ¡°I was kicked out of my own dorm for most of the day,¡± Peter said, grinning into Cat¡¯s lips.

    ¡°Mmm,¡± Cat noted, not entirely caring as she leaned in for another kiss. Cam and Brad. It was all anyone was talking about in the group--mostly at Cam¡¯s insistence.

    ¡°Maybe¡­,¡± Peter started, returning the movement of her kiss, ¡°I could get him to leave for most of tomorrow to make up for locking me out.¡± Now her interest piqued. ¡°Give us...some time to be....¡±

    ¡°Mmm?¡± Finally, she opened her eyes to watch his wicked grin spread, the corners of his lips pulled by his dimples. ¡°I¡¯d love that,¡± she answered through a sigh. Peter¡¯s lips, and the soft brush of his stubble, found its way down her jaw, down her neck. Cat sighed, leaning into his affection, pulling him closer, her fingernails digging into the back of his shirt. ¡°God, I love this." She loved him.

    Peter hesitated for a moment, the air shifting, tensing. While she pulled him closer, he pushed away, looking for her eyes.

    ¡°What?¡±

    Cat blinked. ¡°Hm?¡± What, did she smell bad? She just took a shower¡­.

    ¡°Did you--¡± She watched his heart flutter through the vein in his neck. His hands gripped her hips, frozen like an ice sculpture. ¡°Did you mean that?¡± Was he scared of that word? Was it too much?

    For the briefest moment, the only logical thing she thought to do was nod. Of course she¡¯d love to spend the--wait.

    ¡°That--that I...that I...like...this?¡± she stammered. Peter¡¯s breath never escaped his lips. Now her heart leapt to her throat, dizziness overcoming her senses. Did she just say--did she just admit that she--

    ¡°After that,¡± came his softest reply. ¡°Do you mean it?¡± If her back didn¡¯t touch the cold concrete at that moment, she would have melted from the heat of her embarrassment. What kind of idiot wasn¡¯t aware of what they said? What kind of stupid, incompetent, childish airhead was so caught in their fantasies that she couldn¡¯t tell the difference between what she imagined to herself, in her own private world, and what she said to the person in front of her?

    ¡°Cat¡­.¡± His voice, so gentle, nearly pulled her out of her fog. But she could only close her eyes. If she didn¡¯t see him, maybe it wouldn¡¯t be so humiliating if he didn¡¯t feel the same when she nodded. But when she did, the bubble in her throat only grew.

    The fluttering in her chest wasn¡¯t her own anymore; it was Peter¡¯s, pressing against her, every inch of his against hers, one hand pulling her hips closer to his, the other tangled in her hair. There was no chance to get any breath, not that she needed it. She could have been dead already, for all she knew, and his kiss was just his attempt to resuscitate her.

    Peter only took a break from her lips to kiss down to her neck, to hear her moan against his wandering hands, to her rapid breathing that responded to his hands on her thighs, pulling her up to wrap her legs around his waist. The moment her feet left the ground to fully submit to his desires, a loud, clattering bang tore them apart, and she caught herself against the wall.

    Cat blinked into the fluorescents, one hand on Peter¡¯s shoulder as he snapped away from her suddenly.

    Some stupid, poorly-timed dumbass started to clatter their way from the third floor staircase, down to the landing they now occupied.

    Stupid Daniel the RA hesitated at the steps at the sight of them and raised his stupid, poorly-timed brows. Cat struggled to prevent herself from glaring at him the entire time he clambered noisily down the steps, all the way until he shut the door to the second floor behind him.

    ¡°What a Goddamn--¡±

    ¡°Cat,¡± Peter repeated, stealing her attention just as quickly as it disappeared. As she glanced up to him, her chest froze, too fragile to beat any faster. Peter¡¯s thumb gently brushed across her lower lip. ¡°I love you, too.¡±

    Maybe a normal human would have done something romantic, like pull him into a kiss or say something sappy about how much she felt--but the only thing to escape her lips was a stupid, weak giggle.

    ¡°Y-yeah,¡± she blurted nervously. ¡°I kind of got that.¡± Blood rushed to his cheeks, and he laughed a little too hard, his shoulders scrunched, eyes so green and soft, and even brighter with his shy smile. When the feeling in her limbs started to return, she let her fingers gently snake their way up to his neck, urging him for one last kiss.

    ¡°See you tomorrow, then?¡± Peter murmured. She smiled up at him.

    ¡°See you tomorrow.¡±

 Chapter 61 (End)

    It was peaceful. Too peaceful. If Cat hadn¡¯t been so over the moon, she would have paid enough attention to know that she should have been incredibly suspicious of her friends. Had she been careless these past couple weeks? Were her excuses weak? Did she stare off into the distance too often, laugh too hard at Peter¡¯s jokes when everyone was around? Maybe, but her head was too far into the clouds to notice the odd looks Hannah gave Cam, or the giggles Kelsey hid behind her hand.

    She had no space in her mind to worry about how strange her friends were acting. Not when her toes were numb, not when she lay on top of Peter¡¯s bare chest, breathing in his scent, struggling to slow her heartbeat. Finals were around the corner, indicating the end of the school year. Then, moments like now, where they were alone and happy, would be harder to come by.

    ¡°Both of our phones are going nuts right now,¡± Peter said into the crown of her head to wake her from her daydreams. His fingers raked her hair that lay on her back, which was definitely not the move he should have done if he wanted her to get out of his bed at any point. All this did was make her melt further into him.

    ¡°Group chat,¡± she muttered. Another blip she ignored. Then the chime of her ringtone. Cat opened one eye to glance at her phone on Peter¡¯s nightstand. He went to reach it, but she laced her fingers in his and glanced up at him. ¡°Nah. Just Hannah. I¡¯m not done with you yet.¡± His cheeks burned a darker shade.

    ¡°You don¡¯t need a break after all, then?¡± Just as she stretched her neck to kiss him, his phone started to vibrate, right next to hers. They stared at it, frowning.

    ¡°I guess you should get that, then,¡± she said with a sigh. ¡°Someone must be on fire if they¡¯re that desperate.¡± He reached to grab his, and she took the time to stretch over and get her phone to glance through the group chat, fully lying on Peter¡¯s stomach. It was just a string of laughing emojis and hearts. What the hell?

    ¡°Hey, Cam. What¡¯s up?¡± Peter grunted into the phone. Cat sighed and let herself up, trying not to crush his diaphragm. The mood was thoroughly distinguished by their stupid friends. Peter furrowed his brows and looked at her, curious. ¡°Oh, um, sure. Yeah, just gotta--uh-huh. Yeah, I can meet you down in a couple minutes.¡± Cat¡¯s heart jumped to her chest, but Peter just shook his head, continuing, ¡°I--um, just studying.¡± A beat. ¡°Yeah.¡± Peter shook his head. ¡°¡¯Kay. Bye.¡± She squinted at him, but he just shrugged. ¡°He sounded like he was laughing, so everything must be okay. Said he wanted to--¡± Cat¡¯s phone started to chime again. Hannah. She rolled her eyes.

    ¡°Hello?¡± she answered.

    ¡°Omigod--¡± Hannah¡¯s voice was tight, like she was either crying or laughing. ¡°Hi, we all want to go for pie. Do you want pie? Or maybe to give someone pie?¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Were they on drugs? What the hell was she going on about?

    Hannah gasped. ¡°Like a warm apple pie, I think it¡¯s referred to.¡±

    ¡°What is?¡± Hannah burst into laughter without responding, but Cat froze, her phone dropping to Peter¡¯s bed. The laughter was coming from outside the door just as much as it came from her phone.

    ¡°Fuck.¡±

    ¡°Was she calling...was she making an American Pie reference?¡± Peter asked carefully as he slid off the bed to grab his clothes. Cat moved a little slower, a little less certain.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t see that movie. But I think I know what she meant, now.¡± Hannah was calling her vagina a pie. And apparently she and all their friends were going nuts in the group chat because...well, they knew. Heard. Ugh.

    ¡°Y-yeah.¡±

    The two got dressed in silence, Cat sliding into her baby blue sundress, Peter in jeans and a polo. He stopped, staring at her as she adjusted herself.

    ¡°You okay with this? I know you wanted to keep this...between us¡­.¡± Yeah, for this exact reason. Cat sighed.

    ¡°Not--not for anything bad. I just.¡± She looked to the door, frowning. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­. I guess we have to endure the most obnoxious conversation of our lives now. And we have no idea how long they¡¯re going to freak out. It was so peaceful¡­.¡± She dropped her phone into her bag and swung it over her shoulder. Peter chuckled, nudging her.

    ¡°Honeymoon¡¯s gotta end sometime. You ready?¡± He turned the doorknob, and upon her nod, they stepped out together.

    Kelsey, Cam, and Hannah stood, lined against the wall, in various forms of shock and ecstasy. Kelsey was the first to pipe up, right after she picked her jaw off the floor.

    ¡°How long has this been happening?¡± Cat glared.

    Cameron interrupted her, waving his hands, stepping forward. ¡°No, no, no, wait! The bets!¡±

    ¡°Bets?¡± Cat echoed in a low tone.

    ¡°I bet it was after the movie,¡± said Cam.

    Hannah, always the detective, had the closest answer: ¡°I bet it was that night you guys found out--¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t even think you guys were there yet!¡± Kelsey whined. ¡°It¡¯s no fair, you guys got to know ahead of time.¡± She gestured to the two roommates, but Cam scoffed. Cat attempted to melt behind Peter, but he kept turning so she would be in full view of the group. What a traitor.

    Cam scoffed. ¡°I had to find out on my own!¡± Why did he look insulted? ¡°I didn¡¯t even know they¡¯d been accidentally dating until a few days ago!¡±

    ¡°What? Peter didn¡¯t tell you?¡± Kelsey asked, shocked.

    ¡°No! I had to practically torture Hannah, and found out right when you did! When Cat said she was at work, and she turned out not to be at work that first time!¡± Ah, shit. She knew that excuse wouldn¡¯t pan out every time. It hadn¡¯t worked multiple times, from the sound of it.

    Kelsey huffed. ¡°That¡¯s bull--¡±

    ¡°Wait, so when did you guys start hooking up?¡± Hannah finally composed herself enough to ask her favorite lurking question. Peter and Cat could only stare at her.

    Peter hardly responded, just muttered, ¡°Oh my God.¡±

    ¡°Can we not...make a big deal--¡± Hannah interrupted Cat.

    ¡°Big deal? You want a big deal? Let¡¯s go talk to that communications professor and tell her what happened, that¡¯d be a big deal!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯d be hilarious. She¡¯d die,¡± cried Kelsey, who smacked Cam on the arm to cue him to start laughing again.

    Peter crossed his arms, sighing. ¡°She would not.¡±

    ¡°I bet everyone else will.¡± Hannah burst back into laughter.

    ¡°You know, Brad thought you guys had something.¡± Cat¡¯s annoyance twinged a bit louder when Brad¡¯s name was mentioned. Really, gossipping, Cam?

    ¡°What?¡± She glared at him.

    ¡°Well, he only met you at--well--you know when--¡± His fumbling filled in the blank of, when Nate tried to date rape you, ¡°and he just thought you guys connected or whatever.¡± Connected. More like when everyone started spreading the rumors that Cat just went around and had a threesome with Peter and his BFF and no one came to ask her about it.

    Kelsey gasped. ¡°Omigod, did you guys ever hook up before you found out who each other was? Or were? Or who you are?¡±

    ¡°Holy shit!¡±

    Cat shook her head. ¡°That¡¯s not anyone¡¯s business--¡±

    ¡°I think it¡¯s everyone¡¯s business!¡± Hannah shouted. ¡°We¡¯ve been going through this with you all year! And now it¡¯s finally happened!¡±

    ¡°So when did it?¡± Cameron interrupted, holding out a hand. ¡°We need to know. For money.¡± Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Cat refused to answer, just crossed her arms over her chest. At this, Cam gasped. ¡°Were you going to try and not tell us at all?¡±

    Kelsey¡¯s jaw dropped. ¡°Finals are like--!¡±

    ¡°We weren¡¯t hiding-hiding,¡± Peter mumbled.

    ¡°You¡¯re just very annoying,¡± Cat finally said. ¡°So it was just...kind of more...to stop¡­.¡± She gestured to all of them with her hand. It was a little risky, offending them like this, but for whatever reason, this only made them laugh even harder. Shrill. Red-faced, doubled over, gasping for breath. Peter and Cat exchanged glances, waiting for them to stop.

    Peter cleared his throat. ¡°Were we going to go do something, or¡­?¡±

    Hannah gasped for air and shook her head. ¡°No, this was just because we saw Cat wasn¡¯t at work again, and we wanted to see if she was with you.¡± So they could have just stayed in bed for a bit longer, in the warmth, in the quiet. Cat pinched the bridge of her nose as Hannah continued, ¡°So did you guys start banging as Cat and Peter when you were accidentally dating each other or after you found out who you were on Talkative?¡± Cat slapped Cameron¡¯s thumbs-up right as he started it, and Peter muttered the tiniest ¡°after.¡±

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    ¡°Okay--¡± Cam blurted, ¡°maybe we can actually go out for dessert or something now. ¡¯Cause it sounds good. And you guys can tell us everything on the way?¡±

    ¡°Tell you?¡± Cat echoed. ¡°You guys already know everything, apparently.¡± She was the last to start moving down the hallway, Peter in front.

    ¡°No, no, no,¡± Kelsey said, sighing. ¡°Like, how did it happen? Did you just stare at each other from across the room and rush up to each other and start fucking, or what?¡± Jesus Christ.

    Peter pushed the button to the elevator a little more roughly than necessary.

    ¡°If we talk about it, will you leave it alone?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Eventually,¡± came Kelsey¡¯s amused reply. The elevator doors opened, and they poured in, too close to Cat¡¯s comfort. She watched Peter through the mirror of the elevator, who decided to shoulder this responsibility, since Cat obviously couldn¡¯t bring herself to.

    ¡°Fine. Cam, you were on a date, and we took that time to talk it out. The end.¡± In the reflection, Cat watched the expressions of their friends turn to annoyance.

    ¡°That¡¯s it?¡±

    ¡°Come on! When!¡± Hannah pressed.

    ¡°Um,¡± Peter pursed his lips. ¡°Few Wednesdays ago.¡±

    ¡°On a Wednesday?¡± Cam furrowed his brows. As if that wasn¡¯t the exact day he also got together with Brad.

    ¡°Wait,¡± Hannah started, squinting. ¡°That night you said you came back from work super late, when I never saw you come in at all--you were coming back from his dorm!" She looked to Kelsey with a gasp, and the two for some reason decided that now, in this tiny elevator, was the time to start screaming. Full-on screaming.

    Cat couldn¡¯t get out of the doors fast enough when they opened. There were a few other people in the lobby, staring, laughing at how Hannah and Kelsey started to bounce up and down and scream-talk to each other.

    ¡°Wait, shut up, guys!¡± Cam shouted at them. Right when Cat was about to think he was coming to his senses, he asked in the stupidest voice: ¡°Is it luuuuuurrrrve?¡±

    Cat immediately covered her face to try and hide the dark, furious bushing. Peter didn¡¯t say anything, but he must have reacted similarly, because now Cam joined in on the screeching with Kelsey and Hannah.

    ¡°Oh my God!¡± he shouted, pointing to them. ¡°It¡¯s love! They¡¯re in love!¡± A warm, reassuring hand appeared on Cat¡¯s back; Peter, shrinking in on himself and struggling to hide a smile, was urging her forward through the lobby. While it felt nice to feel his touch out in the open like this, it did feel like the world¡¯s shrillest parrots followed them, attempting to break their ear drums.

    ¡°Daniel!¡± Cam shouted, rushing the RA off to the side of the lobby. ¡°Dan, they¡¯re in love! Look at them! Look at the love birds!¡± Daniel rolled his eyes at him.

    ¡°Yeah. I know.¡± The guy walked off without another word, silencing their friends.

    ¡°What?¡±

    Peter sighed as he pushed open the glass doors to Casa del Sol. ¡°He walked in on us in the stairwell one night.¡± The trio screamed all the way to the parking lot, until they split into two cars--Cam and Hannah in Kelsey¡¯s, and Cat in Peter¡¯s truck.

    The couple sighed together when they finally sat, alone, away from the screaming and obnoxious questions and announcements to the world.

    ¡°That wasn¡¯t so bad,¡± Peter tried to reason on the way to the dessert place Kelsey led them to. Cat glanced at him, still feeling the blood rush through her body, hot and sensitive to all the attention. He almost looked like he enjoyed the attention, though he still seemed relieved to be away from it all. She shook her head.

    ¡°If you think that¡¯s the last of it, you¡¯re stupider than you look.¡± He laughed.

    True to form, both Peter and Cat were right. While that was the last of the screaming, it was far from the last of the teasing, which was to be expected. They thought they were being quiet any time Cat and Peter were in the vicinity, cooing at ¡°how cute¡± they were, and ¡°how perfect¡± they turned out to be. Their giggles gave Cat flashbacks to middle school. But...true, it wasn¡¯t that bad. Cat could handle those sorts of things if she got to hold Peter¡¯s hand under the table, or give him a kiss before bed without hiding. She didn¡¯t consider before that maybe it was an even trade-off.

    <hr>

    Finals for Cat were much simpler and easier than her friends¡¯. She was caught up on her essays and ceramics projects, leaving just the final for math and the second part of communications. This made her completely done with school by Tuesday night, with her bus ticket bought and paid for to leave Wednesday afternoon. She was the first to leave, again.

    Cat, Cam, Kelsey, and Hannah sat at the cafeteria tables while Peter returned from getting gas. Their food was already cleaned up, and she was already packed and ready to leave. Peter didn¡¯t even really need gas, but he went and topped off anyway, just to give her more time with everyone. Cam was the first to bring up that this was their final goodbye.

    ¡°This was a wild year,¡± he said.

    ¡°Yeah.¡± Cat nodded.

    ¡°I mean, like...a little more wild for you than me, but still.¡±

    Cat rolled her eyes. ¡°...yes.¡± Across the cafeteria, she spotted Peter opening the door to come get her. She gestured to him, and started to rise from the table.

    Cameron glanced over his shoulder, then nodded. ¡°Anyway. I¡¯m glad we met. And I¡¯m glad you didn¡¯t fall in love with me like Kelsey did last year.¡±

    Kelsey shouted, ¡°Are you fucking kidding me--¡±

    ¡°She did not--!¡± Hannah, coming to her defense.

    ¡°Cam, are you serious?¡±

    He stood with a massive grin, holding his arms out. ¡°Feelings are nothing to be embarrassed about!¡±

    ¡°Knowing you is something to be embarrassed about!¡± Kelsey punched him in the arm, but when she was done, Cat did accept his open arms for a hug. Last one of those for a while. He was such a good hugger, too.

    ¡°Anyway, see ya, Cat. Don¡¯t ignore us this break, ¡¯kay?¡± he said while she moved on to Kelsey.

    ¡°Fuck you, Cameron.¡± Over Cat¡¯s shoulder, Kelsey shoved him again before wrapping her arms around Cat fully. ¡°Love you to pieces. Stay in touch.¡±

    ¡°I will,¡± she promised, then taking her time to pull Hannah into the last hug of the school year.

    Kelsey added, ¡°Oh, and keep your nasty brother away from my sister!¡±

    ¡°Like I have any control over that!¡± Cat snapped while she pulled away from her friend.

    Hannah giggled. ¡°Ha, right? She couldn¡¯t even stop herself from dating her arch nemesis!¡± This was, for some reason, the most hilarious thing anyone said, and the trio fell into laughter for a full half minute before Cat could call them dumb.

    ¡°I love you, too. Text me when you¡¯re home?¡± Hannah asked, pointing to her as Cat started on her way to the door.

    ¡°I will. I promise. I¡¯ll do it in the group chat.¡±

    ¡°Okay, you guys have fun sucking out each other¡¯s tonsils. Bye!¡±

    She scrunched her face. ¡°You¡¯re disgusting and I¡¯m glad to be walking away right now.¡±

    ¡°Bye!¡±

    Cat rolled her eyes when she reached Peter, and gave him a peck on the lips.

    ¡°Your friends are so annoying,¡± she muttered through a laugh. Without asking, he took her bag off her shoulder and reached for her hand to hold on the way to the parking lot.

    ¡°When they¡¯re being annoying, they¡¯re your friends. My friends would never.¡± They shared another laugh, this one tenser, tighter, more final. They were silent the entire ride to the bus depot, holding each other¡¯s hands tightly, their thumbs rubbing together as a silent form of comfort. Her chest ached at the thought of going on that stupid bus, but...it wouldn¡¯t be for long. Though it¡¯d be difficult at first.

    Peter pulled up to the dropoff curb and got out to grab her backpack and duffle bag without a word. Cat took her time to grab her purse and slide out of the passenger seat.

    To keep her heartbeat slow, she breathed carefully. When she looked up at him, she could tell--he was trying to keep his expression smooth and unbothered, but the moment he set her bags down, she pulled him into a kiss.

    He held her so tightly, like she would disappear if he didn¡¯t. She clutched him just as hard, pressing too firmly to try and hide the fact that her eyes burned and her lip quivered. She pulled back a little, sucking in a deep breath of his scent to calm her nerves, force any incoming tears back.

    ¡°I¡¯ll see you in a couple weeks?¡± she asked, her eyes still closed. She felt Peter nod as he pressed his forehead against hers. It must have been quite a sight, she thought, mostly to keep herself from crying. He was a foot taller than her, bent over like Quasimodo so he could touch as much of her as possible. She would have forced herself to laugh if she thought it would help her feel better.

    ¡°That¡¯s the plan. If it¡¯s okay with your family,¡± he said. If it¡¯s okay with her family. Cat smiled, opening her eyes.

    ¡°I mean, worse comes to worst, you stay in a motel.¡± Peter replied with a tense laugh. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Motel¡­.¡±

    ¡°Oh my God, you¡¯re such a snob.¡± She giggled, her grip on him loosening. Peter straightened up a bit more, but his thumb ran over her bottom lip.

    ¡°Hard to shake that lifestyle when it¡¯s all you know.¡± She couldn¡¯t even make fun of him for it, because he pulled her into another quick kiss. This time, when they parted, she let go of him. If she didn¡¯t, she¡¯d never leave.

    Cat sighed. ¡°Anyway, my parents are pretty cool, so they¡¯ll probably be fine with it. Then I¡¯ll try and come down two weeks after that, and we can trade off from there until I¡¯m back.¡± Peter frowned, but nodded, glancing over to the Greyhound just a few hundred yards away.

    ¡°Okay, you¡¯ve got to get on that bus before it leaves without you.¡± He bent down to hand her bags to her, and she swung them over her shoulder with a sad nod.

    ¡°I¡¯ll text you when I¡¯m home.¡±

    ¡°You better.¡± Once she had her backpack, duffle, and purse on, he pecked her again. ¡°I love you.¡± She smiled.

    ¡°I love you, too. Talk to you later.¡±

    ¡°Bye¡­.¡±

    Walking away went against every feeling in her chest, every atom in her being. It was so hard to convince herself how temporary this was, but by the end of summer, they¡¯d be pros, more solid than ever. Besides, they dated for weeks by accident without ever actually ¡°seeing¡± each other. They could do this no problem, right?

    Cat gave Peter a final wave right before she stepped onto the bus, and presented her ticket immediately after. After spotting a place near the middle, she shoved her back in the overhead compartment and pulled out her phone as she sat down.

    There seemed to be enough space to stretch out a bit, to have her bags on the seat beside her and to just generally take up space. She leaned against the window as she waited for her mother to answer. She must have been the last expected passenger, because the driver announced departure over the speaker and threw the bus into gear.

    ¡°Hi, Mom. Just letting you know I made it safely on the bus and I¡¯m on my way,¡± she said.

    ¡°Oh, great, honey! I can¡¯t wait ¡¯til you¡¯re home!¡± That excitement and unconditional love was the only reason why leaving right now didn¡¯t hurt as bad as it could have.

    ¡°Yeah¡­. I miss you.¡± Cat sighed, glancing out the window to watch Peter climb into his douchey truck. ¡°Um, quick question: what are we doing in two weeks? Anything planned?¡±

    ¡°Planned? Uh, no...not that I¡¯m aware of, why?¡± Oh, boy.

    ¡°I was wondering if¡­.¡± The bus lurched forward; Cat braced against the empty seat in front of her. ¡°I was wondering if my boyfriend could come up to visit for a weekend.¡±

    ¡°Boyfriend? You have a boyfriend? Ooooh, Dios mio! Tell me about him! What¡¯s he like? What¡¯s his major?¡± Well, at least her mother¡¯s screaming was a little less obnoxious than her friends¡¯. Plus, after Cat opened up about him a little, she knew her parents would have zero problems knowing she started seeing Peter.

    ¡°Um, he¡¯s¡­. You kind of already know a little about him. He wants to be a physical therapist so he¡¯s majoring in kinesiology right now¡­.¡± The driver started his circle around the pickup dropoff area, following the curb to turn around. Peter still sat in his truck, watching, smiling sadly at her across the way. She smiled back.

    ¡°Kinesiology, what..?¡± Cat only tried to think of an equivalent Spanish word for a second, but gave up.

    ¡°The study of physical movement.¡±

    ¡°Like PE?¡± A mischievous smirk spread across her lips. The look of scared confusion from Peter through the windows made her laugh.

    ¡°...yes, Mom,¡± Cat said, giving a final wave to Peter from the window. ¡±Exactly like PE.¡±