Young Writers Society

Morri thoroughly enjoyed each poem as it was read, taking note of everyone's personalities as they went along. It was almost time for class to end and they were down to the last group left to recite their poem.

"It's all up you guys, if you share your poem, then no one will have any take home assignments this week." Morri told them with a cheerful smile.

"But professor," They chanted in unison, "We enjoy punishing the rest of the class due to our own personal negligence and as such we will be opting out of this class' performative activities."

Morri pouted, "As disappointing as that is, I can not force you to do something you are uncomfortable with. So I guess I'm going to have to give you all a small assignment for next class."

Morri turns to face you:



"Everyone except for soundy's characters cus she needs a lil breaky break xoxo."

Morri turned back to the RP, "As for the rest of you, I won't burden you with a bunch of burdensome work when you could be better spending your time on other things. What I'm going to ask you to do is write me a couplet about your favorite color. This can be as creative or even as Uncreative as you would like. I am nothing if not flexible."

Morri clapped his hands together and looked around at both sides of the room.

"And with that, unless anyone else has any questions, you are free to go!"

Jerica stared at the final group in dismay as they decided to be punks and refuse to read their poems aloud. Oh, you're lucky you're all the way over there. Had they been anywhere close to her, she'd have been throwing fists and snatching their paper away to read for them. How dare they make her have homework?

She listened as Morri assigned the work, quickly pulling out her phone to Google what a couplet was. Oh, easy peasy. She already knew what she wanted to write about. Daffodils -- she smiled a bit when she thought about what a pleasant smell they were, and how much she couldn't wait for spring to find more bunches of them.

Then she glanced down at her paper.

She couldn't jump from Snoop Dogg to daffodils. She had a reputation to uphold, and a shitposter couldn't be caught dead writing sappy poetry about daffodils. Maybe she'd just write two? One for her -- and maybe Morri, if she could turn it in without reading aloud -- and a ridiculous one if she had to put on another show. What else is yellow?

Jerica snapped her notebook shut and shoved it in her backpack on top of various other papers and an empty bag of chips, then zipped it shut and looked at Elias. "I got practice later, yo. What we doing?"

Elias smashed all his belongings in his backpack and then quickly got up and slung it over his shoulder. "I live over at the Plaza if you want to join." He then peered down towards the front of the classroom. "I gotta grab my friend right quick though if that's okay."

"Yeah, sure." Jerica threw her backpack over her shoulder and followed him into the aisle. "They gonna Snoop Dogg too?"

He scoffed as they bounced down the stairs together.

"I'll give you five bucks if you can convince her," he said as he waved at someone who was blankly staring at him at the front.

Jerica looked at the girl and snorted. "Looks prissy."



James didn't quite understand exactly what happened, but somehow, he knew that he was exempt from the assignment anyways. There was a part of his brain that didn't allow him to overthink it, so instead, he focused on getting out of the classroom. There were a lot of students filing out of the one exit, and because he was at the front, he waited for some of the space to clear before he got up. He said goodbye to Clandestine, who tipped an imaginary hat before she spun around to leave. Then he looked over to Evaline, who was getting ready to leave.

He threw his backpack over his shoulder.

"Elias was sitting in the far back," James offered as he watched Evaline scan the crowd. He pointed with his thumb.

"I see him," she said, and James turned back to see Elias and Jerica coming down the steps towards them.



Jerica sized the girl up as they made their way to her. She seemed like the artsy type. Maybe she'd introduce her to Rek, later. Unless she was as prissy as she kind of seemed to be just then. Then, she saw James too.

"Hey, Ev," Elias said as he poked her. She didn't react. "Are you feeling better?" He didn't wait to hear a response, because he looked right at James and grinned, his eyes darting between the two of them. "And hello, James."

"James!" Jerica said, stepping up next to him but catching herself last moment before she threw her arm around him. He didn't appreciate affection. She remembered that from last night, even if the details were fuzzy. "Sorry 'bout last night, I promise I was trying to clean... just wasn't going so hot for me, you know?"



Maybe he should've left before they walked up. Not because he didn't like them, but because he was suddenly very overwhelmed. He only glanced at Elias, giving him a small nod of recognition before he looked to Jerica. He still wasn't going to address how Elias was being weird about him making new friends.

"It's okay, Jerica," James said. "I understand. Were you able to get any sleep last night?"

"Oh, yeah," Jerica scoffed, grinning at him. "I passed out so hard. It was great... you? You get his bitch ass to bed?"

James laughed weakly. "Yes," he said, his eyes flicking elsewhere in the room, at nothing in particular. "I'm surprised he made it to class."

"Who are you talking about?" Elias interrupted. "Carter? Dude was barely hungover."

"I dunno." Jerica looked at him skeptically. "He fuckin' tackled me last night."

"Oh, you remembered that," James said quietly.

"Are you sure it wasn't one of the football guys?" Elias asked Jerica. "Doesn't seem like Carter to tackle random people."

"Bro." She looked between them. "Bros. I didn't black out, I know who it fucking was. And I'd a beat his bitch ass if not for James here. Tossed into the hall in the nick of time."

Elias laughed. "Damn, you need to join a fight club."

"Maybe I'm in one," she countered. "Don't ya know the first rule of fight club?"

"Beat up your friend's roommate?"

"Never speak of it," James said. He felt like he was barely staying afloat in this conversation. "I don't even know what we're talking about."

"Me either," Jerica agreed. She suddenly turned her gaze on Evaline. "Hi! Jerica! You?"

"Evaline," she said after a hesitation. She gave Jerica a weak smile but then looked at Elias. "Are you going back to your apartment?" she asked.

"Yep," Elias said. "Jerica, the plan. Tell her the plan."

James had a feeling that the plan might very well not be much of a plan at all.

"Oh, right, the plan!" Jerica said brightly. "You wanna smoke with us? I get five bucks if you say yes."

Evaline gave them both a long look. "Sorry," she said to Jerica. "I think you lost the bet."

"Yeah," Elias agreed. "Now you owe me five bucks."

"Excuse you, it was a bribe not a bet, buzz off."

"I know my way back, so you can go ahead," Evaline interrupted with a forced smile. "Just... let me know when you're done?"

"Are you sure?" he asked, and she nodded. Elias shrugged and then looked past her, towards the door. "Well, okay. But if you actually do have a concussion, let me know. Because I can count the nursing as part of my hours." He turned to Jerica. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah, let's go!" She glanced at James. "Pretty sure I know the answer, but, wanna smoke?"

"I'll pass," James said with a small smile. "But thanks for the invitation."

When Jerica and Elias were gone and out of earshot, James turned to Evaline again.

"So... what are you going to do now?" he asked.

"Sorry about... yeah," she said with a nervous laugh, then turned to look at him. "And I'm not sure. I'll probably walk around campus for a bit and find a quiet spot. It's not like I have classes."

James nodded, thinking.

"I don't have another class until late afternoon," he said. "Do you want me to show you around campus? An unofficial tour? That way you don't have to wander aimlessly."

Evaline glanced down at the watch on her wrist and then looked back up meekly. "That does sound nice... if you don't mind."

James smiled. "Yeah. I don't mind," he said, moving towards the exit and nodding with his head for her to follow. "I'll show you some of the quiet spots I've found so you don't have to go searching for them the next time you need somewhere to retreat to."

"It doesn't surprise me that you have a list in your head," she said as she followed alongside him. "Especially since your roommate throws a lot of parties."

James glanced over at her. "Well -- yeah," he admitted with a small shrug. "I've found some nice little spots outside though. Sometimes I just need fresh air too."

~~~~~~

A few hours passed, and James stuck to his word and showed her around campus. They first stuck to the sidewalk as he pointed out all the different buildings, and the only building he went in was the library. She figured he thought she'd want to find a quiet spot when she was here, and so he showed her exactly that, revealing a secret floor called tiers which were where all the old encyclopedias were. Several desks were along the wall, and the entire floor was very quiet. After showing her around the other floors, they then returned outside and hung out at the greenspace for a bit, sitting on the large steps of the enrollment building while watching a few people walk their dog and toss a frisbee. He then took her to some of his quieter places, which ranged from intuitive spots of picnic benches with outlets in front of a smoothie shop, to hidden spots like a bench tucked away under a willow tree near the art building.

Eventually, she found herself sitting on a bench with James in front of a big pond, tossing some food pellets they got at a quarter dispensary to feed some ducks nearby. Some people walked past them, mostly students with backpacks walking past to get to class.

"I wouldn't trust it to eat off my hands," she said as she kept tossing pellets a safe distance away and watched the ducks race to gobble it up.

"These ducks are greedy and spoiled," James said. "So, fair."

"This might be a dumb question," Evaline said as she tossed another pellet. "But are there ducks at the farm you work at?"

"There's a pond, and ducks live there, yeah," he said.

Evaline nodded, tossing the last pellet and letting a comfortable silence pass between them for some moments. It was a nice spot. Although the ducks swimming along the shimmering water was a peaceful spot by itself, she also didn't mind the passing strangers walking by quietly. Most were either listening to music or staring straight again like they had walked this path a thousand times before.

"Thanks for showing me around today," she said after a long pause. "It was nice."

James looked out at a family of ducks swimming across the water.

"No problem," he said with a small smile. "I enjoyed this too."

Eventually James announced that he had to make it to his class, and Evaline decided to tag along and at least walk with him to the building. It wasn't like she had anything to do, anyways. The two of them continued to chat until he stopped in front of the building.

He paused, watching a slow stream of students going in before he turned to her. "Well, this is my class, so I guess it's goodbye for now." He flashed her a small smile. "You think you can find your way back to the plaza just fine?"

She nodded, returning the smile. "I can make my way back. Thanks." She took a step back and paused in thought for a moment, wondering if she should say her next thought out loud before he walked in the class and she potentially never saw him again. Honesty and desire outweighed the nerves.

"And, um," she quickly began before he could continue with his goodbyes. "I'll be here for the rest of the week. If you want to escape for a bit and hang out." She smiled at him again but inwardly cringed at her words.

James's smile grew little. "Yeah, sure," he said. "I'd like that. I'll text you when I'm free."

With her hands behind her back, Evaline took a few small steps back, the smile not having left her face. "Okay. Yeah, sounds good. It's your Russian history class right?" she said, finding herself filling in the space with the random thing she was remembering, and then suddenly getting embarrassed. "Anyways, I'm going to go now, and--"

She kept taking a few steps back until she hit a light pole, and then she nervously laughed and walked to the side, rubbing her back.

"Okay, I'll see you later!" she said quickly, turning around before James could see the heat rise to her face.

"Are you-- okay?" she could hear James ask, but she was already walking away.

After she made a good amount distance so that he wouldn't be able to see her face up close, she turned around and gave him two thumbs up, then turned back to go her ways.

As usual, that went as great as she imagined. The embarrassment was so great that she almost didn't want to see him again.

Almost.

It was going to be a good year. It was only the second day, and Jerica had already found someone as chaotic as she was. It was a nice change of pace, from the near-constant-judgment that she got from everyone else. She didn't particularly mind fielding the judgment -- she was a performer at heart, and was happy to bring excitement to everyone's lives -- but imagine what could happen if there were two of her. Would the chaos be multiplied? Or exponential? There was only one way to find out.

"So, you a nurse-boy?" Jerica asked as they started down the hall.

"As in, is that my major?" he asked, glancing at her. "'Cause if so, yes. Am nurse boy."

"Good to know." Jerica nodded once. "I'm accident-prone girl."

He snickered. "Break many bones?"

"Nah, I've gotten pretty good at falling so that nothing breaks." She smirked at him. "But I hit my head a lot. And my arm likes popping out of its socket when I fall off tables."

Elias scrunched his mouth in a 'not bad' expression.

"Well, I think you're going to need a chiropractor for that. But I've been told I give great massages, so."

"I mean, Rek knows how to pop it back in place." Jerica shrugged. "But he seems to think I deserve it. So sympathetic aftercare could be nice."

She laughed a bit, looking up at him.

"Who's Rek?" he asked.

"Oh, he's my cousin," Jerica answered. "He's chill, you'd like him. He's just fed up with my bullshit, you know?"

"Oh hey, invite him over," Elias said, seemingly not hearing that last sentence.

Jerica hesitated a moment, trying to think if Rek would be into it or not. She had convinced him to smoke in the past, but she wasn't sure if that was just because he was too worried to leave her alone at that party. It hadn't been her finest moment.

"Yeah, sure, I think he'll be back at the flat," she said. "What floor you live on? I can just run up to our place to see if he's there."

"Third," Elias said as he put in his keycard to open the door to the Plaza. He turned towards the stairs, but then whizzed back around. "Wait, you live here too?"

"Yeah." She walked past him. "Strangely enough, also on the third. I'm right next to the party pad... that's why I showed up yesterday. Y'all cut my only sleep of the day hella short..." She turned a bit to smirk at him. "But, made it worth it at least."

"Huh," Elias said in thought, already running up the stairs. "Kinda weird we all live on the third floor. It's the party floor." He paused for a second. "Oh, and I live with Bo, by the way."

"Awwww!" Jerica smiled. "Muffin Man!"

"Yeah, being roommates with him means I get unlimited muffins and unlimited other food. Pretty sweet deal. I just have to do all the shopping. Speaking of which..." He stopped for a second to think, but then shook away the thought and continued on. "Nah, never mind."

"Sounds like another apartment I need to know the location of," Jerica laughed. "All we have is a couch and a piano."

"You guys need better decorators," Elias said with a laugh, landing on the last step. "Anyways, I'm at the end of the hall here." He pointed at the door at the end of the hall. "Knock when you're ready?"

"It'll just take a sec." Jerica said. "C'mon, we can see if we have any snacks you want. Least I can do."

"Hah, sure," he said as he backtracked to be by her side again. "Let's see if you actually only have a piano and couch in there."

Jerica laughed, half-wondering if he literally thought that was the only thing they had -- half fully-not-caring if he did. She pulled her student ID out of her pocket and popped the door open, eternally too lazy to actually carry a key on her.

"Rek!" She grinned at him as she threw the door open and saw him sitting on the couch. She left the door hanging open, cutting to the right to go to the kitchen. "Look, I'm making friends."

Elias gave him a little wave. "Do you ever get a lot of jokes about your name?" he asked. "Like the movie Wreck it Ralph, but the name Rek instead. Anyways, I'm Elias."

Rek laughed, stretching his back as he looked up at Elias. "Thankfully, that's a new one. But dweeb makes a 'Get wrekt' joke almost every time she gets drunk."

"Hah. That's pretty good," he said with a sly smile, giving Jerica a look of approval.

"I try." She smirked, chest puffing up a bit, as she grabbed the family-sized bag of cheetos off the counter, then opened the cabinet. There was a big jar of applesauce, and she grabbed it, not really sure what it was she planned on doing with it. She looked back to the couch. "Come on, loser. We're gonna go hang out."

"No thanks--"

"It is the second day." Jerica thrust the food into Elias's hands, never hesitating as she walked past him to get to the couch. "This is why you don't have friends. Come on."

"I do too," Rek protested, but didn't fight as Jerica hauled him to his feet. He snorted, looking between them. "Did you even ask your friend if I'm invited?"

"I invited you, dude," Elias said, already eating a Cheeto. "I could just bring the stuff over to your place instead, though. I was just going to go on the balcony anyways."

"What stuff?"

"Fun stuff." Jerica hooked her arm around Rek's shoulders and pulled him into the hall. "Don't worry about it. Just let it happen."

"Snoop Dogg," Elias said with a smug smile, following behind them.

"How have you already found someone--"

"Just let it happen," Jerica interrupted. "Oh, b-t-dubs, apparently Elias and Muffin Man live here too. We gonna have a whole floor of friends soon."

"Yeah, man," Elias agreed. "Bo's my roommate. Guess we'll be seeing each other more often, huh?"

They then entered his apartment, and although Elias called for Bo, he didn't seem to answer. "I'll get the stuff. Feel free to chill at the balcony." He then ducked away in one of the rooms.

Jerica plucked the bag of Cheetos out of his hands as he went, then wandered over to the balcony. She unlocked the door and slid it open, then walked out and sat down in one of the chairs, gesturing at the one next to her.

"It's just pot, right?" Rek clarified.

"Yeah," Jerica answered. "... I think."

At this point, she wasn't really sure what Elias might pull out. Or, what she might be willing to try if he did. But, she was nearly certain they were on the same page about this.

Rek drew a deep breath like he was going to scold her, but then just sighed instead. He shook his head, looking over at her. "You gonna write about daffodils?"

"I mean..." Jerica glanced at the door to be sure Elias wasn't nearby, then looked at Rek. They both already knew the answer. She shrugged. "Yeah, probably. Maybe. You think he'll make us read them aloud?"

"What's it matter?"

Jerica glanced at the door again. "Because I'm not reading a poem about daffodils in front of the class."

Rek snorted. "Always the ego with you."

"Always," she agreed.

"I just don't see why--"

"Elias!" Jerica said, cutting Rek off.

Elias then slid opened the door and stepped out on to the balcony. "Jerica!" he said with the same fake enthusiastic voice, then held up a small square bag that said cookies on it. "Want a cookie?" He gave it to her anyways.

Jerica took the bag, not quite sure what to expect. He's said smoke but she wasn't gonna be picky if he had it baked in instead. She cracked the bag open and then smirked, looking back up at Elias. "My favorite kind, how'd you know?"

Elias grinned and sat down on the last chair, butting between her and Rek so he could be in the middle. "Just a little guess," he said as he took out a paper bag and revealed a small glass pipe and a lighter.

Jerica held the cookie bag over to him so he could pack the pipe, then folded it up and set it on the table as Elias took the first hit and passed it over to her. She took a long drag, coughing heavily as he passed the pipe to Rek.

She coughed a moment longer. "Fuck. That's good."

"I call my dealer the cookie monster," Elias said with a faraway voice as he leaned back on his chair. "Thought the dude actually sold cookies when I first met him."

True story.

"Bro, I want an introduction." She looked over at Rek, gesturing for him to get on with it.

"No joke, he lives on 420 Highland Avenue," he continued on as he stared out past the balcony.

Also a true story. Well, maybe. It might have been called Highland Street instead.

"Legend," Jerica said.

Rek started spluttering, and handed the pipe back to Elias, who gladly took another hit without any trouble before passing it back to Jerica. She took another hit, this time with less coughing, and passed the pipe back to Rek. She leaned back in her seat, enjoying the calm that already was settling over her. "We were talking about Morri's class right before you came out. Any ideas for your poem?"

Elias laughed, pulling out his phone. "During class I texted Evaline asking what a couplet was and eventually got her to text me an example poem with the color prompt. I'm 'bout to just turn that shit in. Wanna see?"

Rek was mid-draw when Elias started talking, and broke into a coughing fit even harder than the first time. Jerica listened to Elias, but looked at Rek. "You all good? You should prolly get some water?"

Rek nodded vigorously, still coughing as he passed the pipe back to Elias and all but ran inside. Jerica watched him go, then looked back at Elias. "Sure."

Elias passed her the phone with the poem pasted in the notes app, but eyed Rek as he ran away. "I think your cousin needs more practice smoking," he murmured.

"Eh." Jerica took the phone, but looked at the door, wondering if Rek was okay. He'd coughed really hard. "I'm just happy he decided to come at all. He got all the discipline of the family. Usually won't relax."

She looked down at the phone and read:

Roses are not always red,
and violets are not always blue.
Perhaps I misread the words he said
as though we were through.
Adieu.

"Seems like he just needs more cookies then," Elias said as she read the poem, taking another hit.

She laughed. "Seems so."

She hesitated, reading the poem again. "I googled this shit... I thought every line had to rhyme... man, I'm bad at this whole poetry bullshit." She passed the phone back, swapping it for the pipe.

He did exactly that, exchanging the phone for the pipe. "I dunno, man. Like I said, I didn't write the poem. It's good enough. I think."

Well, there were multiple layers to it. The text conversation took a turn after she sent that, but he didn't really want to get into it.

Probably also best that Evaline didn't know he was going to plagiarize her.

"Yeah, man," Jerica agreed, taking another hit. She held it back out to him, breathing deeply. All the tension brought on by J.R. -- and then Lordy -- had finally melted off her shoulders. "I think I'mma just bring your chicken theme back into it. They're yellow when they're lil, right?"

Elias chuckled. "Probably. I only ever had one chicken, and Nugget was already all grown up."

"Fugget," Jerica giggled.

The door swung open and Rek walked back outside, still looking unsettled. Jerica gestured vaguely at him. "You need to chill da fuck out, bro. You're still all tense from last night, aren't you?"

"No--"

"Did you hear about last night?" Jerica interrupted, looking back at Elias.

"What, the party?" Elias asked dumbly as he handed the pipe to Rek. "You might have to re-light it," he said softly to him before turning his attention back towards Jerica.

"Nah -- I mean, ya -- but dis bitch--"

"Jer, don't." Rek sighed.

"Smoke." She waved her hand at him dismissively, then looked back at Elias. "Rek was tryna be nice to some ho at the party because she pretended to be into music, but all she wanted was to fuckin' sexually assault him."

Elias laid back against the chair and stroked his chin as if he had a beard.

He did not have a beard, but hey, at least he could act sophisticated.

"Hmmm," he said in thought. "Is that true, Rek?"

Rek coughed again, but more controlled this time. He passed the pipe back to Elias, but didn't look at him. "It was a miscommunication... I might have led her on, I don't know."

"You didn't fucking lead no one nowhere," Jerica cut in.

"You guys ever roleplay?" Elias interjected before taking a hit with an arched brow. He slowly breathed out through his mouth.

"We're cousins," Jerica answered, looking at him skeptically.

"It's like acting," he continued on, pretending he didn't hear her, or maybe his selective hearing chose not to hear her at all. "We pretend to fill a role and act it out. Maybe Rek can walk us though what happened."

"Oh god, no," Rek said softly.

"I dig it," Jerica said, standing up to walk over to Rek. She straddled his legs and sat down on his lap, facing him. "How'd it start?" She made her voice annoyingly shrill, tapping his chest. "'Ohhh, Rek, your keys are so hard.'"

Rek thrust his hand out -- not hard enough to actually hit her, but fast enough she couldn't stop him -- and planted his palm on her sternum, then shoved her off his lap. She was laughing before she even hit the ground, then pushed herself up to her elbows, looking up at them both. "Can't tell if that means I'm close or not." She looked back at Elias. "What do you think?"

Elias continued to stroke his imaginary scene. "As director of this roleplay movie, I think I'll let Rek say his line," he said with squinted eyes.

"Fuck you both." Rek crossed his arms and sat back in his seat. "How's that for a line?"

Jerica pushed herself upright, then leaned forward and put her hands on his knee, then rested her chin on her hands. "I just wish you'd tell me what happened. You know you feel better when you talk it out."

"There's nothing to talk about," Rek snorted, but it lacked the force that his last statement had. "She thought I was interested. I wasn't."

"Why'd you even let her take your shirt off?" Jerica asked, brain too empty to really think about what she was asking. "Surely you caught on before then?"

Rek shrugged. "It felt impolite... to... stop her, at that point."

"No means no," Jerica said firmly. "Goes for boys too. You gotta set your... your... what's the word? Your... boundaries! Set 'em in stone, don't let no bitches cross 'em."

"I mean... being with a girl can't be that bad... could it?"

"Don't look at me, I ain't tried it." Jerica shrugged. She looked over at Elias. "You?"

"Mmm. Yes," Elias said in thought again, but then shifted his paper-thin attention back to Rek. "So basically you didn't say no?"

"I was... it just... happened so fast." Rek flushed a bit. He hesitated, then reached his hand down to affectionately cup Jerica's face as she propped herself up on his legs still. He glanced back at Elias. "I didn't really understand what was happening at first -- I thought I was just giving her a piano lesson, 'cause that's what I offered -- and then... I don't know. A few minutes of hell for me seems better than her having to live with that kind of hurt of getting rejected when you're already... well..."

"You don't have to have pity sex," Jerica snorted. She looked at Elias for back up. "Tell him."

"Bro, don't do anything you don't wanna do," Elias said as he reached over to put his hand over his knee, but he tapped it with his balled-up hand instead. Maybe it was a nursing instinct since Rek was bouncing his leg with nervous energy.

"Sounds like she thought you were good lookin' or something and misread your slick moves," he continued on. But the worst that can happen is saying no and she goes over to fawn over some other guy."

"I wasn't making any moves." Rek buried his face in his hands and rubbed his face, frustrated. "At least, I wasn't trying to... I..."

"So, wait, the roleplay didn't work out, huh?" Elias said as it just occured to him that Rek wasn't acting this out. "Okay, okay, so I'm just trying to understand here... You invited some girl over to play the piano, and she randomly decided to take off your shirt, and, ya know? You had no idea it was coming?"

"No," Rek growled, frustration flooding into his voice. "I mean, obviously I figured it out when she started..." He looked stricken, trailing off.

"Waaaait," Elias said slowly, squinting out in the distance. "No you had no idea it was coming, or no, you did have an idea it was coming?"

"I didn't know it was--" Rek was getting flustered. He turned towards Elias. "I'm gay, Elias. I didn't want her to... Piano. That is what I offered. Not dick -- piano."

"Ooooooh," Elias said with a long, drawn-out breath. "That's why you don't like girls."

"Yeah," Jerica cut in, even though her brain wasn't fully processing what was happening. She was glad Rek had told him, though. Maybe now Elias would understand how bad the situation was. "Rek n I just scout out boys for each other -- no ho's up in our place..." She giggled. "'xcept me, of course'... but I don't... you know. Do ho-things."

Elias snickered. "Hey man, let women live their life. As long as there's consent and everyone's happy, I don't see the problem." He glanced back at Rek. "Sucks that happened, my dude. I wonder if piano is like a new slang term for something? Huh." He pulled out his phone to google.

"All dem hard keys." Jerica giggled to herself.

Rek put his hand on her forehead and shoved her off him again.

He only pushed her so she'd sit up, but she let herself topple the rest of the way over, devolving into a fit of giggles.

Jerica was more excited to write the poem than she'd ever admit to anyone, ever. The shitpost one that she was going to read in class, if they had to read aloud again instead of just turning them in, had come surprisingly easy, just like her Snoop Dogg one had. But she wanted to actually do a good one, too. She liked the reputation of being the careless, stupid jock -- but she liked having the GPA of someone who actually tried. Just had to be careful that no one caught her putting effort into it.

But then, there was this stupid poem. She scratched down the first thing that came to mind about the color yellow.



She stared at it for a long moment, sighing. This was bad. Like, not funny bad. Just bad-bad. She scratched out the part that she hated the worst.



She sat bouncing the eraser of her pencil on the coffee table, humming to herself. It was still complete and total shit. She repeated her lines under her breath again and again, trying to figure out what part of it wasn't working.

Gentle aroma... what does that even mean? She scratched it out irritably, then sat and stared at her paper trying to figure out how to replace it.



That was better... maybe?

She got up and started pacing with it, back and forth from the kitchen to the living room, trying to figure out how to make it... not this terrible. The rhyme was so forced. And the cadence? Meh. Mediocre at best. She flopped back down on the couch and glared at the paper, then sat back and glared at the ceiling and repeated the two awful, cringey lines that she'd unfortunately already memorized.

Her irritation built with each moment.

It was just poetry. She could do that. Two lines. Couplet. That's all she had to do. She'd written entire lab reports in less time than this stupid poem was taking her. Finally, her temper snapped. She leaned forward and angrily scribbled the entire stupid, worthless, awful poem out of existence.



At this point, she'd rather have the reputation of being the stupid jock with Morri. At the very least, that implied that she was good at something, even if it wasn't school. She'd rather let him believe that than admit that she was the world's worst poet.

This was hopeless. She was hopeless. She crumpled up the paper and pitched it across the room as hard as she could. But, it wasn't heavy, and hit the ground just past the coffee table. She threw her pencil down and crossed her arms, glaring at it on the floor.

Rek walked in a moment later. He raised his eyebrows. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she snapped.

His eyes landed on the crumpled piece of paper and he bent to pick it up.

"No!" She sprang to her feet and lunged towards him.

He turned away from her, blocking her with his shoulder as he looked over the paper. "Hey, is this your poem for Morri's class?"

"It's..." She flushed. "Nothing. Just stupidity."

"I don't think it's stupid," Rek answered gently. "It just needs a little tweaking is all. Want some help?"

"I don't need help." She snatched the paper away and crumpled it again, then made a point of dramatically shoving it in the trash can. "I already figured out that 'flustered' rhymes with 'honey mustard' so I'm just gonna turn in a chicken nugget poem."

"Jer..." Rek looked at her a moment. "Don't give up on this. You can do it."

"No, I can't," she snapped. "It's stupid and so am I, so I'll just make it extra-stupid on purpose and let the grade be what the grade will be."

"It's not stupid," Rek answered firmly. "And neither are you. No one can be good at everything, so, who cares if poetry isn't your thing? You can get help."

"I don't need help."

"You should ask James." Rek shrugged, heading towards the bedroom. "I think he's an English major, yeah? I help beginners with piano all the time. Bet he'd help you."

"I don't need help."

"Okay," he answered flatly, then shut the door to his room.

Jerica flopped back down on the couch, staring at the ceiling helplessly. This was such a stupid assignment. Who even cared about poetry? She thought about Rek's suggestion and snorted. As if she'd ever ask James of all people for help. That'd be like... like... asking Gordon Ramsay to teach her how to cook. Never. She'd rather live on Ramen the rest of her life than go through that kind of humiliation.

But, she still couldn't get the thought out of her mind. James was a lot nicer than Gordon Ramsay... maybe it wouldn't be so bad? She groaned. It was going to be so embarrassing to let him see her trash poem... but, then, he'd already seen her shirtless and covered in mud. So how much worse could it get?

She sighed and leaned forward and wrote the poem out on a fresh sheet of paper, trying to make her handwriting at least a bit more legible.



She stood up. Then sat back down. This was a bad idea. Plus, what if Carter was there? Couldn't have the frats thinking she cared about school. But... she did need help. And, she didn't hear any music, so maybe he wasn't home. She stood up again... then sat back down. "Gah!"

She sprang to her feet and rushed across the room before she could lose her nerve again. She ripped the door open and walked next door, then took a deep breath and knocked.

He closed the door behind him and locked it. When he tested the knob before entering, it wasn't. Another pet peeve, but he knew Carter often didn't lock the door when he was expecting company, which was often. At least he didn't leave the door unlocked when he wasn't home.

But that meant Carter was home.

James saw Carter sitting on the couch with his laptop in his lap, feet kicked up on the coffee table, and a red bull in one hand while he was typing with the other. James didn't say a word to him as he made a beeline for his room, setting his backpack down, and then headed back into the kitchen to make dinner.

Class had felt long, and he hadn't eaten since early in the morning. The moment he stepped into the kitchen, the hunger all hit at once, and he was tempted to eat the first thing in front of him. He grabbed an apple out of the fruit bowl (which only ever housed his fruit) and took a bite out it while he started looking in the freezer for something he could heat up quickly. He pulled out a frozen bean burrito, opened the wrapper with one hand, stuck it one a plate, and put it in the microwave. 5 minutes.

He leaned back on the counter and finished the apple quickly, working his way through the core until only the stem was left, and then threw it across the kitchen, watching it clatter into the trash can.

Carter appeared around the corner, throwing back the last of his red bull and throwing it into the trash with much more aggression than necessary. James only watched him idly, looking at the countdown on the microwave time. 30 seconds.

"I cleaned up the mess from this morning," Carter said as he grabbed another drink from the fridge. James was surprised to see it was just a water bottle.

"I noticed," James said. By "I cleaned," Carter usually meant he hired someone to clean (though always while James was gone, apart from the one time James came home while there was a lady cleaning their apartment). James wouldn't believe that Carter ever cleaned something himself until he saw it with his eyes.

There was a pause, like Carter expected James to say more. A thank you, probably. Maybe a year ago, James would've felt more obligated to.

Carter closed the fridge door and stuck his arm out, leaning against it.

"What are your work hours again?" he asked.

"Why do you ask?"

The microwave started beeping, and he turned around to pull out his burrito. He pulled a fork out of a drawer and stabbed it to make sure it was cooked all the way through.

"Just want to know when you'll be around," Carter said. "Or free. Which is like, almost never, unless it's six hours to walk one of Elias's pretty friends around campus."

James blinked and slowly turned his head to look up at Carter. Six hours was an exaggeration.

"I see you're nosy as always," James said, refusing to add fuel to whatever Carter was trying to start.

"Not nosy. Just observant," Carter said with a smug scoff.

"I would dare to say they're dangerously close to being the same thing," James said, poking at his burrito again.

"Look, I'm not saying I don't approve."

"I don't know why you think I'd need your 'approval,'" James said flatly. "Whatever that even means. And you're making a lot of assumptions based on one observation."

"Educated guesses," Carter said.

"All guesses should be educated," James replied.

"Just be careful, okay? Evaline doesn't live here, and I heard--"

"Carter, I'm not interested in whatever gossip you have to share," James said curtly, cutting him off.

"See, I'm not sure that's true. I think you would be--"

"Nope."

James took his plate and started walking out of the kitchen, and Carter followed behind. He didn't make it very far. There was a knock on the door right when he passed the entryway.

"It's unlocked!" Carter shouted.

"No it's not," James retorted, heading for the door. With his burrito plate in one hand, he opened the door, seeing Jerica.

"Oh. Jerica," James said, glancing back at Carter, who was returning to the couch. "What's up?"



"James! Hey, uh --" Jerica took a deep breath, anxiety surging. She'd half-hoped no one would answer. Her eyes flitted over James' shoulder towards Carter. Shit. She crumpled the paper in her fist, jerking her hand down to her side. "Nothing, uh... how's it going?"



James glanced back one more time, seeing Carter watching the doorway curiously. He didn't like Carter's prying eyes taking notes on things all the time. It was annoying, and he knew Carter did. He stepped forward and closed the door behind him, so Carter couldn't see. It probably shouldn't have made him as happy as it did to imagine Carter's petty disappointment.

"Fine," he said. "Just got back from class."

He leaned back against the doorframe, blowing on his steaming burrito, considering the cost of burning his tongue and getting food sooner or waiting just a few more minutes.

His eyes flicked to the paper crumpled in her hand.

"Did you need something?" he asked.



Jerica was relieved James had brought the conversation out to the hall. This was going to be hard enough to swallow her pride to ask for help, without dealing with frat-boy-teasing about it. "I, um, not really."

She shook her head slightly, trying to get her act together. Now she was just wasting his time.

"I mean, are you like, busy?" She nervously straightened the paper, but kept a timid gaze on James. "'Cause, like, if you have a minute, or whatever, I was wondering if you could um, like..." She rubbed the back of her neck. Why was asking for help this hard for her? "I'm not very good at poetry, you see. And I thought, since, like, you're an English major and all, you might...be?"



James was putting together the puzzle pieces. Poetry. English major. Help with an english assignment - it was likely the one they had for class (that he was oddly exempt from, but again, he wasn't complaining).

"Sure, I can help you out. As long as you don't mind me eating while I do," he said. He glanced at her door just a few feet away and pointed, with a question mark on his face.



"Yeah, sure, of course!" Jerica answered, a bit too quickly. "And, like, it doesn't have to be now now, if you're busy, now."

But she still took several steps towards her own door, and he followed.

"Whatever's good for you," she rambled nervously. "No pressure. And, like, I appreciate it. Like, a lot. Thank you."

"Well I haven't done anything yet," James said with a little grin and a shrug. "So don't get too excited. But I'll do what I can. It was just a couplet, right? I assume that's what you want help with?"

"I'm pretty sure you could sneeze and a better poem would come out than what I wrote," she answered, shutting the door behind them and gesturing invitingly at the couch. "And a couplet, yeah."

She swallowed hard and held the poem out. "About your favorite color, so, yellow."



James nodded and took the paper, reading it over in a few quick seconds. It was rough around the edges. If she wanted it to be good, it would need to be reworked, but James didn't think Morrigan was expecting anything amazing for such a small assignment. Still, he didn't mind helping. Every little grade added up and counted for something.

He walked over to the couch, humming in thought as he looked down at the poem and still held his plate in one hand. He sat down on the end and set the plate in his lap.

"Okay, so, yellow. Daffodils. We can work with that. It sounds like you have a particular image in mind that you're trying to get across?"



"I mean like, yeah, I..." she blushed a bit, looking down as she continued with a small voice. "I really like daffodils. And yellow."

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to look back at him. "But otherwise, I'm down for whatever. My rhyme needs to go die, but I don't know how to make it better."



James thought for a moment. "Maybe you could find a different word to rhyme with than daffodil," he suggested. "Something that won't limit you as much?"

"Ohh, I didn't even think of that..."

"I guess it depends on how much meaning you want to put in two lines," he said, starting to think out loud. "There are other words that rhyme with daffodil. Shrill, will, hill, even, which, used in a very simple way, makes a lot of sense, but it might only be boring. Daffodil on a hill."

"Yeah, I mean, there's only so much emotion you can put into two lines."

"So let's just pick one. Maybe... do you have a memory that comes to your mind when you think of your favorite flower? A specific scene, maybe? Attatched to an emotion? Like, nostalgia or something?"



Jerica smiled to herself as she thought about the first time she'd been introduced to them. "Yeah. My uncle Derik got me a little bouquet of them when I graduated kindergarten." She shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe that's silly but they always make me happy. And they smell nice."

"I don't think it's silly at all," James said with a small smile. "Maybe the poem could be about that instead of a generic daffodil somewhere in who-knows-where. I always find writing poetry more fulfilling when it's more personal. And I think if it's more meaningful to you, then often it's more meaningful to others. Not that it matters that much when it's for homework, but, it's nice when you can enjoy it more."

"Yeah, that makes sense!" She smiled at him, so relieved that he didn't seem to think she was being dumb. Maybe she should make more friends like him instead of boys that acted like her.

James smiled back. "Good. I'm glad. So, maybe we can draft up something new with that memory of your uncle in mind. We don't have to use the words 'kindergarten graduation' in the poem," he said with a little laugh. "But he was celebrating you, and you felt happy, and I think that's what we can hone in on."

Jerica laughed a bit too. "Right, yeah. Like, the association with love, not just flower."

"Exactly," James said. "Do you want to give it a try?"

"Sure..." She got a fresh sheet of paper and picked the pencil. She hummed for a bit to herself, trying to ignore James, who'd started eating his burrito, as she thought of a poem. She scratched down the first thing that came to mind, then nervously looked up, holding it out to him. "I don't know that this is any better..."


James read it. Already, it was greatly improved. He looked over to her and nodded with a small smile. "This is good. I like it. The only thing I think that would be important to add is maybe one clearer descriptor for the color of the daffodils, just so it's clear that you followed the prompt. I don't think Morrigan is dull, but I don't know if he had TA's grading things, so it's better to play it safe than sorry."

"Yeah, that's fair..." Jerica hummed for a moment. "But it feels lame to say yellow in a poem about yellow, isn't poetry supposed to be all lofty and shit?"

James laughed. "Often, it's more the latter, but I suppose saying any synonym to yellow would either take too many words or just sound pretentious. So, fair point. You have enough hints to the color yellow. Warmth. Fire. Brighter. Daffodils. Someone should easily be able to figure it out if they just use their brain for a few more seconds. Even a tired TA."

Jerica laughed. "Sometimes brain-ing is hard."

The bedroom door swung open and Rek came striding down the hall. He brightened when he saw them. "James! What a pleasant surprise."

Jerica snorted. He was being so smug. Playing it off as friendly, but so smug. "Oh, shut up."

Rek started laughing and cut towards the kitchen. "Didn't say anything."



James knew there was something he wasn't catching onto, but he wasn't sure he wanted or needed to know. It was a little awkward, not really knowing how to respond or having a chance to, but he gave Rek a nod of recognition as he walked by.

Jerica looked at him a moment, seeming to consider if she wanted to explain or not, then shrugged. "I'm bad at asking for help. This might have been his idea."

James nodded slowly. "Ahhhh, I see. Well, I'm glad you asked."

Carter was bothering him. It was a good excuse to leave.

Jerica smiled shyly, glancing back towards Rek. "I don't actually know if you guys have met for realsies. That's Rek -- my cousin slash roomate. This is James -- my savior and gifter of Chick-fil-A... Thanks for that, by the way. I still owe you... for all of it."

He still held the new poem in his hands, and he read it over. Honestly, this was fine as is, and he didn't think he needed to make Jerica a master poet in a day, nor was that possible. So he set it down. Jerica had changed the subject anyway.

He looked over to Jerica and shrugged. "If you never repaid me, I wouldn't be mad." He wanted to say something about Jerica being better company than his roommate, and that was repayment enough, but he thought better of it. He looked over to Rek.

"Nice to formally meet you, by the way."

"You too," Rek said, coming back to the living room with a bag of Doritos. "Thanks for looking out for her yesterday."

"Of course," James said with a small nod of his head, taking the final bite of his burrito. Wasn't quite as filling as he'd hoped, but it would tide him over long enough.

"Chips?" Rek offered, holding the bag out to him.

James's eyebrows went up, and he looked at the bag, hesitating for a moment before reaching in and taking a handful. "Oh, thank you."

"Of course." Rek smiled, sitting down next to the coffee table and looking across it at them on the couch. "So, you're Carter's roommate, I heard?"

"That does seem to be the most common thing I'm known as," James answered, then paused. "So... yes. I think I saw you yesterday on my way out? I must admit I wasn't paying full attention."

"No, you're nice chick fil a man," Jerica cut in. "And Carter is your roommate." She looked at Rek playfully. "Get it right."

"Oh, my bad," Rek laughed. "How's that work out for you? I feel like I'd get annoyed if I had people throwing those kinds of parties in my place."

"Yeah, he won't let us have any fun in here," Jerica agreed, nodding solemnly.

James admittedly didn't quite know what Jerica meant by her last comment, and he didn't really feel like answering Rek's question. Why did people keep asking him about it? It was annoying. At first. But now it was just... normal, and he'd gotten used to it.

He shrugged a little, suddenly feeling very awkward holding his now-empty plate in his lap.

"Eh," he said in a non-committal tone. "It could be worse."

"Ohhhh." Jerica's gaze snapped back towards him, suddenly looking strangely... excited, almost. "You don't like him, do you?" She looked back at Rek and gave a smirk. "I get it. Roommates are the literal worst -- sooo annoying."

"Very annoying," Rek agreed, giving her a pointed look before looking back at James. "But I hope that it gets better, if it's not great now. You don't gotta say. We don't want to pry." He gave Jerica another pointed look. "Do we, Jerica?"

James appreciated that they didn't want to pry, and yet, he still felt the tension - like someone was holding a crowbar to his head just waiting for the okay to add pressure.

"Well, I want to pry," Jerica quipped, but softened her tone and turned back towards James. She patted his shoulder. "But I won't. You're too nice for that... And have already put up with too much of my bullshit."

James laughed, but it was a little forced. Not noticeably so, but he felt the itch to change the topic as far away from Carter as possible. There were many things he wanted to say, but wouldn't, because it could circle back.

Like how he didn't mind putting up with Jerica because he'd put up with worse. Or he put up with that kind of stuff all the time. Or that at least she seemed genuinely sorry and didn't leave him feeling slimy after an apology.

Of course, Carter wasn't all bad. He'd helped James out a lot, especially in their first two years of sharing an apartment. Though, the first year, it'd been a room. But he wasn't going to get into all of that.

"Well, thank you," he said. "Believe it or not, I enjoy your company, so maybe stop calling you-being-you... well, bullshit."

"Awww!" She looked like she wanted to make another quip, but like it got stuck in her throat. Instead, she smiled shyly, turning her head away but not fast enough to hide the fact that her cheeks flushed red. "I like you too."

Rek looked between them with a stupid smile. He nodded towards Jerica slightly, since she still wasn't looking at them, and locked eyes with James then mouthed. "Not bad."

James looked back at Rek with a blank expression, but on the inside, suddenly he wondered if he'd said something wrong. He... he wasn't trying to hit on her? He hoped she didn't think that? But it wasn't like he was going to take it back if he meant it, because he did.

"Well, I'm glad it's mutual," he said.

"I'm glad she has a decent friend," Rek cut in, seemingly picking up on the tension that was creeping into the room. Even though Jer didn't seem to notice she was on the cusp of flirting. James was relieved. "Not like your usual trash."

"They're not..." Jerica suddenly seemed to recover, looking back at Rek. She hesitated a long moment, looking over at James instead. "Okay, that's fair, they are kind of trash. Nice people usually don't like me."

"Maybe they aren't really that nice then," James said.

Jerica blinked at him, not quite sure how they were having this conversation. Rek was always ridiculous, trying to find decency in her when there was only shitpost. But she wasn't used to getting double-teamed. At least, not with anyone except Rek and Derik. She took a deep breath. "Or maybe, I'm not."

"Well, you haven't been unkind to me," James offered. "So I can't really confirm that or not. I have a limited perspective, having only know you for two days."

Well, let's keep it limited then, so you don't start hating me. She thought better of actually saying that aloud, subconsciously rubbing the bruise on her collarbone. "I mean... both of our interactions were not during my finer moments, so... not..."

She was getting flustered. These were exactly the sorts of conversations she tried to avoid at all costs, and yet, here they were. She swallowed hard, trying to think of how to get out of this conversation without making it so incredibly obvious that Rek would notice and circle them right back to it.

"I think in our lowest moments, we often show our truest selves," James said. "And if I met you at your worst, well, I assume it only goes up from here. So. Naturally, more chickfila."

Jerica laughed, glad that he was letting the mood turn to a lighter subject. "My treat next time, remember."

"I've known her for much longer," Rek cut in. She sighed, looking at him. Of course, he wouldn't let this one go. The boy was always up in his own feelings, and seemed to make a hobby of trying to get into hers, too.

"So, surely you're bored of talking about me by now," she cut in. A desperate last attempt.

"Shush, Jerica," Rek said, giving her a glance. "Nice friends are nice. It's how this works."

Jerica snorted.

"Rek sounds like he's speaking from experience," James said as a not-very-quiet aside to Jerica. "Nice people are nice. Jot that down."

Jerica laughed again, grateful that James at least seemed to be willing to move past this. Or, at least, to make jokes so it wasn't as wildly uncomfortable to be in the center of attention. Well, at least the attention of emotions. She didn't mind being the center of attention at parties.

"Just throwing it out there," Rek said, looking at James. "That Jerica is basically an M&M, she pretends to have such a hard exterior but inside? Soft."

"Am not," Jerica snorted. How dare he try to ruin her reputation?

"I think I prefer to learn things like that over time, but as her cousin, I'll take your word for it," James said. "I personally think I identify more with Shrek. I think an onion is an accurate description of who I am."

They both chuckled at his joke, then Jerica cracked a grin at him. "I think you're more of a parfait, personally."

Rek smiled at James. "That's fair enough, I won't ruin too many surprises. Just wanted to warn you that of literally anyone you talk to, she's the one who is going to claim to be an asshole the most." His grin widened. "But I approve of a parfait friendship, this will be wonderful. We should all get dinner sometime or something."

"I wouldn't mind that," James said. "Though I'd need a heads' up so I can plan around it and make sure I'm free. I work, too, so I have to be more intentional with my freetime."

"Ooh, where do you work?" Jerica asked, relieved that this seemed like it might finally be a successful transition away from her.

"I work part-time at a barn about thirty to fourty minutes away. Hartfield Ranch," James answered. "Fills up my weekends and my Fridays."

"Aww!" Jerica perked up. "Oh my gosh, do you take care of horses? I have a horse."

James's face seemed to brighten up. "Yes, I do. I have a horse there, actually. His name is Elliot. Do you, uh, want to see? I have pictures?" He pulled out his phone.

"Yes!" Jerica answered eagerly. She missed riding more than anything else. Sports were nice, but nothing could really beat the feel of being on horseback. It didn't matter how fast she ran, she'd never get the same feeling of the air whipping her face and mussing up her hair.

James opened his photos app and it looked like he went straight to an album filled with pictures of horses and what looked like, at a quick glance, other farm animals or something. He opened a photo of a golden palomino with a shining white mane and a white stripe down its nose.

"This is him," James said with a small smile, handing his phone to Jerica. "You can scroll to see more, if you want."

"Oh my gosh," she squealed in delight, taking the phone. "He's beautiful!" She flicked through a few more pictures, smiling happily down at the phone. "My horse's name is Ranofer. But he's with my Uncle Derik, and he lives like, what?" She looked at Rek.

"It's like three hours to Dad's house." Rek shrugged, smiling a bit. "Not that it matters, since neither of us have a car. Gotta wait for him to come get us."

"Do you have pictures of Ranofer?" James asked.

"YES!" Jerica unlocked her phone and spun it around to show her background picture, which was her face with Ranofer's head directly on top of her own. "This is my favorite picture of us. He's so silly."

James looked at the picture with a smile.

She opened her pictures, which were much less organized than James's folders. She scrolled through the pictures. "Uhhh... let's see... that was... May? That we did that course?"

"Sounds right." Rek shrugged.

She scrolled through the pics, hesitating as she tried to find her place through the months, but kept rambling as she looked for him. "He's like, super fast, so we did a show a while back. We are very good at barrels."

She finally found the right section and handed her phone over to James, showing him a huge paint stallion whose shoulders were as tall as Jerica's were. "That's my boy."

James took the phone and lifted the phone a little closer to his face. "He's beautiful," James said. "How long have you had him?"

"Since I was twelve." Jerica grinned at him. "He was a gift from Uncle Zander. So, uhh..." Jerica hesitated, trying to remember how old she was. "Like, seven years? I guess. How long have you had Elliot?"

"Coincidentally, I've had Elliot for seven years as well," James answered.

"Aww! Jinx!" Jerica said playfully. "And, you said he's boarded at your ranch? Man, that's gotta be so nice to get to see him every week."

"It really is," James said. "I got lucky. When I was looking for a place to board him, I saw that the ranch was also hiring. I'm really glad it worked out."

"That's awesome," Jerica said, taking her own phone back. "I'll have to see if Derik will bring Ranofer out here sometime." She shook her head. "Man, dream job. I just pick up odd jobs and they kinda suck... though Carter gave me $50 earlier, so that was nice."



James was quiet for a moment, and he looked at Jerica with a blank expression.

Carter didn't just give gifts to give gifts. He did at first, but there was always something attached eventually. He couldn't help but feel a pang of worry - not that he let it show.

"Wait, why?" he asked, deciding to ask for clarification before he jumped to any alarming conclusions.

"I dunno, guess I give off broke vibes," she laughed. "But he asked if I wanted to clean up the last of the party. And, like, odd jobs are what I do. And usually people are all stingy, like 25 bucks. I jumped on that 50. You'd already done the worst of it, just had to get some stains out of the sink and vaccuum, mostly. It was a sweet deal."

James nodded casually, but that was far from an accurate representation of the internal screaming in his head.

"That... maybe don't let him make a habit of doing that. He can pay someone who actually does that as their job," James said with a tense smile. "You're not our cleaning lady, and I don't want you to feel like one."

"It's okay." Jerica shrugged. "Like, I really don't mind. I clean, house sit, dog sit. Whatever. Football is amazing for tuition, but can't buy much Chick-fil-A on it." She winked.

James forced another laugh. "I understand tuition concerns. I just... Carter can be very generous, but..." He pressed his lips together tightly, trying to find words. "If you're hurting for money just - ask me first?"

Or literally anyone else.

"You're really nice," she answered, smiling at him.

James smiled, but it was still work. The anxiety that Carter might take advantage of Jerica's financial need wasn't something he could just shake off.

"Surprise?" he said weakly. "That's parfait layer one."

Jerica cocked her head to the side and looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, then grinned a bit. "So far, so good."

James relaxed a little, releasing some tension in his shoulders that he hadn't realized was there. He glanced over at Rek, who had been silent for a while as Jerica and James drove the conversation.

"Did you work with horses too?" he asked.

Rek's gaze flicked back and forth between them, seeming like he was picking up on a bit more of the tension than Jerica was, but still obvious confusion. He shook it off. "Um, yeah. We both learned to ride, and I like it. But that was more Jerica's thing -- I'm more into fencing."

James nodded with genuine interest, but also great relief to be talking about something else again. "Did you both fence too?" He glanced at Jerica, then back at Rek.

"Yeah." Jerica shrugged. "I can kick his ass."

"You cannot!"

"Sometimes," Jerica argued.

"Yeah, sometimes," Rek grudgingly agreed. "It's pretty 50-50 actually. Not fair. She got every last one of the athletic genes in the family."

"How dare you steal all of them instead of sharing," James commented sarcastically.

Jerica laughed. "It evens out. He got all of the talent. Have you heard him playing piano? He can play, like, literally everything."

"I have not," James said, looking back to Rek with a small grin. "But if we're sharing walls, I'm sure I will someday."

Rek smiled back at him. "Well, I try to be considerate in what hours I practice -- hopefully it won't be a bother. Feel free to text me if I'm ever annoying you, though."

James laughed a little. "Honestly, when I need to focus, I wear earplugs anyway, so, I don't think it will be a problem."

"Perfect." Rek smiled at him. "So, what's your thing?"

James blinked. "My thing?"

"Yeah," Rek said with a shrug. "Everyone has their thing. Mine is music. Jer's is flexing about her athletic ability. What's yours?"

James laughed a little. "I... well, I don't know. I like history, and writing, and reading - hence the English major. I don't know if that's considered a thing."

Rek laughed. "Your thing can be whatever you want it to be."

"He's a dope poet-er," Jerica cut in, looking for her poem. She pointed at the paper on the table. "He fixed my bullshit."

"In all fairness, you fixed it. I just pointed you in a different direction," James said.

Jerica smiled, puffing up a little, clearly proud of herself.

"Wow, almost sounds like you benefited from getting help," Rek cut in sarcastically. "Who could have ever predicted?"

James lifted up a finger. "Now, now, Rek. Not all people are helpful when you ask for help. But, you're right."

They both laughed a bit. Then Jerica took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

"Well, thank you. And, well... thanks for sparing my ego. Can't have frat-boy thinking I actually give a shit about poetry. Could you imagine what the team would do if that got out?" She scoffed, shaking her head. "No thanks."

"Immature things, no doubt," James said. "But yes, I'm glad it's not public knowledge."

At that moment, he glanced down at his watch, checking the time.

"On that note, I think I'll have to say goodbye for now. Homework calls me," he said, getting to his feet.

"I usually decline those calls," Jerica joked, also popping to her feet. She swayed forward like she was going in for a hug, then caught herself and took a step away instead, awkward. "Speaking of calls, do you wanna swap numbers? Since we're neighbors and all?"

"Oh, sure," James said. He pulled out his phone and quickly opened the messaging app. "Just put your number in and I'll text you my name so you know it's me."

"Perfect!" Jerica took his phone and punched her number in. "And I can give Rek your number once you do, and he can text you?"

James looked over at Rek. He... had no idea what either of them would text him about apart from their briefly discussed potential dinner plans, but he nodded. "Sure."

"Well it's not like I can get the dirt out from under my nails on my own," Lordy complained into the phone, trying to focus on driving with his free hand, "But don't worry I'm almost there I can tell you everything in person."

"Oh this better not be as bad as last time." Morri sounded worried on the other end of the line.

"Bad is nothing but a Micahel Jackson song my friend," Lordy pulled up in front of the salon and put his car in park, "Anyway, I'm hanging up now."

Lordy stepped out to see Morri waiting for him at the entrance.

"Well you aren't as dusty as I thought you'd be." Morri looked him up and down.

"I guess I've learned to keep most of the mess away from me," Lordy walked to the door and held it open for Morri, "After you."

Morri nodded and walked in to find their usual receptionist behind the desk, "Hello my dear!"

"Oh, hi!" Sarah the receptionst said warmly. She was feeding the many fishes in the fishtank beside the desk. "Lordy and Morri! Usual drinks today?"

She didn't even wait for their response, pulling out two chilled glasses from the freezer and a bottle of scotch and rum from the cabinet. She poured the two drinks and then passed it over to them, and then lifted up her own glass of sangria hidden on her desk. "Cheers before you start your appointment?" she said with a sly grin and lifted her glass up.

Lordy and Morri both grabbed the drinks and tapped their glasses together before downing them in one shot.

"Is my usual nail artist here today? I needa... um... deep cleansing." Lordy asked with shifty eyes.

"And I will have anyone that is willing to do for me what they are doing for him I have no favorites." Morri added on.

"Oh yeah, for sure," Sarah said as she typed away on her computer. "Yep, I see here that Mel will be finished with her client any second now and will be ready to freshen up your nailes, Lordy. And let's see... no one is available now for a manicure, but I can totally fill in if you don't mind it."

Right on cue, Mel walked around the corner and waved goodbye to a customer who was leaving with glorious locks. "Bye, honey!" she waved off as the customer went to pay, then turned to face Lordy. "Oh hi, Lordy! My favorite manni customer! Hi! Come on in!"

"Oh Mel darling, boy do I have stories to tell YOU today." Lordy said walking her direction.

"Oh my gosh, I have so much tea to spill too," she said with a grin, then waved in Morri too. "And hi Morri! My favorite person!" She glanced over to Lordy. "Sorry, Lordy. Morri has beautiful hair and wholesome stories too. But yeah, come on in too! Sarah will fix you up, and then I'll give the usual cut afterwards."

"Oh perfect! Thank you Mello," Morri said, following them, "You're always a good fellow when I have a story to tell-o. Would you like some jell-o?"

"Oh my gosh," Mel said with a laugh. "This is why you're my favorite."

She led them into the salon, seating Lordy and Morri across one another on a well-lit table in front of a huge wall with infinite color palettes as Sarah followed along.

"Alright, what can we do for you boys today? Also, this is Sarah, but you already met her. She's new to this, but don't worry, I got her covered, so you'll only get beauties today," Mel said.

"I need you to scrub these crusty boys down so much you won't even be able to get DNA off of them after," Lordy said, giving Mel the spirit fingers, "And then a calm clear coat."

Morri nodded in agreement, "Whatever you think would look best on me is fine. As long as it matches my skin tone."

Mel raised an amused brow at Lordy, then got up to pick some colors off the wall. "Sounds like a big deep cleanse," she told him. "Is there even DNA on nails? Is that what forensic people look at?" She looked at Katya expectedly. "You watch a lot of NCIS. Do you know?"

"I'm pretty sure there's DNA in everything except red blood cells," Sarah simply stated as she got the tools out.

"Oh, I knew that." Mel grabbed a few nail polish bottles. A chocolately brown color, white, and clear bottle. She then sat back down in front of Lordy. "Maybe not scrub down all the DNA then," she said. "'Cause that would probably like... take a layer of your skin off. Can't have that, you already have beautiful skin."

"Oh stooop, you're going to make me blush," Lordy closed his eyes and shook his head at her, "Mmm, continue."



Mel laughed and set his hands on the table so she could begin her work, starting with a salt scrub. "Maybe after you tell me some of your stories first? Tell me all about them, I want to know. They're always so funny, especially if they involve Morri."

"Oh you wanna hear about Morri? He almost MURDERED a kid on the way to class today! Luckily they don't go here so they don't know who to sue," Lordy began, "But we managed to get free coffee at the cafe this morning as well."

"A charming boy, it's true. It's going to be a wonderful semester with him. Oh! And I hope his friend stays too." Morri pouted at them.

Mel hummed these thoughts over, still laser-focused on deep-cleaning his hand pores. "Huh, that kind of sounds like something that happened to my boyfriend today. But he described it as two professors showing off sport mode and then getting an A on a class. But that's just ridiculous, isn't it?"

Morri and Lordy looked at one another?

"Whaaat?"

"Nope."

"That's impossible."

"Untrue."

"Irrelevant."

"Was it us?"

"Yeah."

"Okay we did it Mello."

Mel and Sarah had stopped working to stare at the two of them, and then they both laughed.

"See, this is why they're my favorite customers," Mel said to her as she playfully elbowed her side.

"I'd buy it -- who doesn't like sport mode and A's?" Sarah commented before going back to priming Morri's nails.

Mel then looked back at Lordy, hall-rolling her eyes. "So you're telling me it's you two boys who took my man out on a joyride? Oh and... oh my gosh, yeah, my other friend was there too. How did you convince her to enter the car?"

Morri and Lordy looked at each other again.

"We... asked?"

"Very politely."

"She almost insisted."

"Shouted a bit."

"Threats I think?"

"She hit her head."

"My leather though."

"You might need a doctor..."

Mel blinked. "Oh, uh... Well, she seemed fine when I texted her. But you should let me know what you actually said to her. For research. You two are so spontaneous, I can really take some lessons. Literal friendship goals."

"Well I'd be lying if I told you I remember," Lordy said shaking his head, "The morning I've had, running around reprimanding students. Can you believe it's only the second day and people are deciding to bully freshman?"

"Ugh!" She rolled her eyes. "I hate that so much. That's so rude. Death to all bullies, am I right?"

Lordy blinked at her, "Amen to that sister."

"But anyway, how have you been Mello?" Morri asked.

"Aww, thanks for asking, Momo," she said, smiling at him. "I've been doing okay, although I wish I could get a break, you know? I feel so bad my friend is visiting and I can't even get time off. Man, I wish I were as smart as you guys, getting all your fancy degrees and such. But I'm happy to still be here with you pretties!"

"Oh nonsense," Lordy said, "We all have our talents my dear. Just as I can't sit here with the patience to deal with people and their crusty nails I doubt you would enjoy a bunch of sweaty, smelly children." Lordy scrunched his eyebrows, "As a matter of fact, so you do house-calls?"

"Awwwwh," Mel cooed again, poking his arm. "You are so sweet. What did I do to deserve you? But yeah, I'd like to, but I've got three other roommates and it'd be crazy town in there to have a client." She sighed. "I'd like to open my own salon someday, though. That'd be the dream."

"Oh no no that's not a problem, what I mean is," Lordy looked over to Morri for help.

"We have a special event coming up!" Morri smiled, "We need you to come to our... um, set? To help take care of everyone's hair and make up. If you can, I mean."

Mel's eyes lit up. "Oh wow, you'd bring me to do that? Man! That would be..." She laughed. "Well, hard to turn down that kind of offer from my two favorite clients."

"Fantastic!" Lordy almost threw his hands in the air in excitement but realized he might accidentally ruin his now perfectly manicured fingies, "If you need me to speak to your manager just let me know. Can't have them messing with our plans, you know?"

"Miss Sound is the best manager, but yeah, totally! I'm not sure what the deal would be with time off but we'll figure it out when we're done." She then looked intensely down at one finger in particular. "Am almost done, by the way. Just removing this stubborn piece of dirt out from your cuticles. Let me know if it hurts at all."

"Beauty is pain my dear, ain't no way around it and momma ain't raise no bi-"

"Lordy!" Morri cut him off.

"What? I was gonna say bizness man."

"Ya'll are hilarious," Mel doled on, then removed the speck of 'dirt'. "Okay, done. Just going to add a final coat." She looked over at Sarah. "And when you're done with that, use the fine point on opaque white for a French tip."

Sarah gave her a nod. "Sure, can do," she said, but she did not look confident.

Mel then turned back to Lordy and Morri. "So, what about you two? How are your classes? I guess you've met Elias then, and he told me about the poems in class today. He is such a weirdo sometimes, and I'm so sorry if he does anything weird."

"Chicken boy? He great!" Lordy told her, "Can't wait to threaten him for more free coffee in the future if I'm being honest with you."

"What Lordy means is, he's a great student and I'm sure he's also a fantastic boyfriend. He has nothing if not personality." Morri added on.

"Momo's coming in clutch with the wholesome as usual," she said back through another smile. "And that's okay, Lordy. He gives all his friends free coffee. I'm kind of surprised no one has ever noticed, but I'm not complaining."

"Well if he ever gets fired, he can always be your assistant at the salon." Morri giggled to himself.

"Yes, and also we can go on a hunt to find the rat that snitched on him." Lordy added.

"Hah, an assistant. You're funny." She paused in thought and then lit up. "Oh! That reminds me! I went to this party yesterday and there was this stupid jock who made my friend uncomfy, but me and a couple girls ratted him out and almost canceled his ass on Twitter. I wish I recorded his face. You both would be howlin' watching it."

"Oh I'm sure we would be Mello."

"yeahcushewas"

"What was that Lordy?" Morri turned to him.

"I said I can see... bus."

"Bus?" Mel repeated. "Is that like, in reference to your car ride this morning?"

"Absolutely Mel my dear you just know me too well." Lordy smiled at her.

Mel squinted and looked like she was really trying to figure out what 'bus' had to do with a joyride.

"Listen, I think Lordy is just tired from the day, and that drink he had earlier is doing him no favors. He needs a break is all." Morri told them.

"Aw, you deserve the biggest break, Lordy," Mel said. "That's why you're here, right? Relax and unwind, I gotchu."

Lordy smiled a goofy smile at her, "Ah yes, I don't think I'll be this relaxed again until I'm six feet under."

"And we're hoping that's no time soon," Morri gave him a side eye.

"Oh? Are you going to miss me?"

"I don't know a universe where I would say no to that, Lordy."

About an hour passed, and their nails were done, and Lordy kept bantering between the two of them while she but cut Morri's hair and Sarah trimmed Lordy's beard. She hugged and waved them all a goodbye when she was finished and the next customer walked in.

"Thanks for coming in!" she chimed. "I think you have my number? Just let me know about this weekend's plans and I'll be there."

"Oh of course," Lordy made an extremely exaggerated wink at her, "I'll be sure to let you know about the plans!"

Mel then walked away with the other customer while Morri paid for the treatment and left them a generous tip with the receptionist, "Make sure they know we appreciated their help very much."

"And also tell Mel to call me if her manager gives her any trouble about the weekend plans, will you?" Lordy added on before they walked out of the building.

When James stepped out of Jerica and Rek's apartment, he felt his stomach rumble. It was the whining, high-pitched sort of wheeze that sounded dangerously close to indigestion, but he could feel the hunger still pooling in his gut.

He didn't really have a lot in to eat at home. Not yet, anyway. He had put off grocery shopping the last two days... mostly because he spent so much time with Evaline. Of course, he wouldn't tell anyone that - and especially not Carter, who was already painfully nosy as it was.

He stood in the hall for a moment, contemplating his options. He could go back into the apartment and get pestered by Carter again as he had disappointing frozen food, or he could go out to eat. He didn't really feel like doing either. But there were vending machines in the plaza lobby.

He headed for the stairs. He passed other students in silence as he hurried down the three flights and found the rows of vending machines. He stopping in front of one that had snack food (as opposed to soda or candy - neither of which would fill him up enough) and put his hands in his pockets, scanning the prices.

This was why he didn't eat out much. Things in vending machines were overpriced. But he started doing the math in his head - he had a few more hours left before he had to take a shower, go to sleep, and he had to be up early. He had at least three or four hours' worth of assignments. If he was able to focus without interruption, he could maybe cut it down to two, even if it would be exhausting. If that was the case though, he'd need to lock his door and block out all sound and all distractions. If he got a snack now and ate it quickly - say, in no less than fifteen minutes - he could probably work it all in and get to bed early. Yes. That would work.

He pulled out his wallet and checked if he had cash.



After Morrigan's class ended, Daniel was surprised to find himself walking with Benji around campus. Daniel didn't have a specific place he wanted to go to; he just stuck with Benji as they left the room. If Benji had a place he wanted to go, he didn't mention it. It took a few minutes of awkward silence before Daniel decided someone needed to speak up. There were multiple things he could talk about - what he had noticed about the shared classes eariler, how he knew that Benji wrote for The Skeptic, or the clubs that Benji should join - but instead he stuck with simple.

He gave Benji a belated campus tour.

Benji had already seen the majority of campus at that point, but he didn't seem bored. He didn't even ask for Daniel to end the tour. It came to a natural conclusion. After walking from end of campus to the other, they arrived back in High Point Plaza.

Daniel was feeling pretty good by the time that they stepped inside of their dorm building. He had hoped that Benji would want to spend more time with him after their Supernatural marathon the previous night, but he hadn't fully believed that Benji would.

Benji suddenly came to a stop.

Daniel, who had slipped in behind him after opening the door, went walking right into him.

Benji faltered a moment at the collison, but completely ignored Daniel as he looked over at the vending machines.

"Hi, James," he said.



James turned a little too quickly to see who'd said his name, still feeling the compiling list of things he needed to do scrolling in the back of his mind.

"Oh, hey Benji," he said with a polite nod. He pulled out three dollars from his wallet and slid them into the vending machine, punching in the code for what he wanted right after.



After a moment of hesitation, Benji joined James over by the vending machine. Daniel could have gone back to his room, but it felt weird leaving Benji without warning after their tour. They had something blooming right now - something like the very beginnings of a friendship.

...He just hoped he was reading Benji right.

"Hey," Daniel said, giving a casual wave.



James bent down to grab the bag of pretzels that plopped down to the bottom of the machine. As he stood back up he looked back at Benji and Daniel, then glanced over at the stair well.

"Did you... want something?" he asked.



Benji faltered again.

"No," he said, giving a little shake of his head. He could see Daniel giving him an almost amused - and curious - look from beside him. He tried not to think about it; he was too busy wishing he had decided to go straight back to their room. "I just wanted to say hi."

There was an awkward pause. Benji wished he had his hoodie on him. Hiding underneath his hood sounded like a great idea right now.

Daniel tilted his head ever so slightly to the side.

"What are you up to right now?" Daniel asked. "Besides getting something from the vending machine."



"Uh..." James said, looking down at the pretzels in his hand. His stomach was still aching, so he opened the bag. "Eating really quickly before I do a ton of homework," he said. He tossed a pretzel in his mouth.



Daniel had a look on his face.

It was a scheming kind of look, and the kind that almost immediately made Benji get an uneasy feeling in his stomach. He had no idea why he was having a reaction like that; he barely knew his roommate. But that look just made him feel very, very nervous.

Benji took a hopefully unnoticeable deep breath.

"Benji and I were about to do homework in our room," Daniel said. Benji glanced over at Daniel with wide eyes. They hadn't ever decided to do that. The most either one of them had done was mention their homework offhandedly during the tour. But then he glanced over at James again. Even though he hadn't planned on what Daniel was about to suggest, he wasn't against it.

"Do you...Do you want to work on your homework in our room?" Benji said before Daniel could ask. "It's quieter in there."

"We also have more snacks," Daniel added.



James paused for a moment, still chewing. He was about to say no, but then Daniel mentioned snacks. He thought it over for a second.

"Sure," he said. "I'll have to run by my apartment to grab my backpack. What apartment are you?"



"We're in-" Benji started to say.

"We could walk with you to your room," Daniel suggested, slinging his arm around Benji's shoulder, "and then we can head to our room together. We could both use the exercise."



James pursed his lips and nodded. "...Okay, but, you can't come inside. I just want it to be quick."

He paused, deciding to add a small white lie to make it more convincing. "It's still a mess from last night. Let's go."

After a quick stop at James's dorm room, the trio - Daniel had never expected to be a part of one of those - made their way to Benji and Daniel's room. Daniel couldn't remember the last time he had someone over in his dorm outside of a roommate. Maybe Rob had come over, once?

Regardless of who had last come over, they were here now. Daniel unlocked the door and held it open for both James and Benji. The suite, thankfully, was on the cleaner side right now. The only vaguely messy thing about it was the misplaced pillows on the sofa.

(Daniel's room was another story, but he wouldn't be showing that to James anytime soon. Same thing with his work area.)

"Here we are," Daniel said, grinning.

Benji waited for James to go in, awkwardly lingering out in the hallway.



James entered with his backpack over one shoulder and took in the simple room. The apartment resembled his own, with the rooms and halls appearing to be in the places. The kitched to the right, the hall and the bedroom to the left, and the main living room just ahead, connected to the entrance. The living room had a couch to the back of the room, and a tv sitting across from it on what was easily identifiable as an Ikea shelf. It was simple, and there weren't too many decoractions. Pretty standard for a college apartment.

He made a bee-line for the couch and plopped down on the very end after moving a pillow out of the way, and set his backpack by his feet.

"Thanks for inviting me over," he said as he leaned over and started pulling a book and his laptop out of his bag. "I appreciate it."



"It's nothing," Daniel said, giving a dismissive wave of his hand. He didn't mention how he always had wanted someone to come visit his dorm room; he just never had the chance to do it before.

Benji placed his backpack down on the other end of the couch. As he started to get his homework and laptop out, Daniel turned his back to the two and surveyed the kitchen. They did have some food in there, but he had absolutely no idea what kind of food James would like. He also wasn't entirely sure what they actually had.

At the very least, Daniel knew his own snacking preferences.

He opened up one of the cabinets and pulled out a bag of beef jerky. After eying the other contents of the cabinet, he grabbed a bag of pretzels - Benji must have brought that - and a bag of trail mix. James had gone for the pretzels in the vending machine; he seemed to like eating healthy.

Once he had one bowl of trail mix and one bowl of pretzels ready, he turned back to the two - keeping his beef jerky bag underneath his arm.

He placed the bowls down on the table in front of the couch.

"I'll be right back," he said. Then he was heading down the hallway leading off from the main room.



James nodded, and as he started opening tabs on his browser, he reached over to the bowl and took a handful, eating while he was already starting to read and run through his list of assignments he had to get done, and ones that he should get done to get ahead. In a sense, they were all necessary, it was just the ones with more impending deadlines that took greater priority. He made a list in his head of what to do and in what order, and without a word to Benji or Daniel, started working, typing out a discussion post for one of his classes.



Benji followed James's lead and opened his own laptop. He felt like he was supposed to be saying something during a study session like this - that was what people did, wasn't it? But James wasn't saying anything and Benji didn't feel like talking, so he bit his lip and turned his attention back to the computer screen.

A few moments later, Daniel returned with a hodgepodge of things: a desk chair, a laptop, and a backpack that looked far more packed than it had when Daniel had entered the hallway earlier. Benji tore his gaze away from his computer screen and watched as Daniel plopped the chair - and bag - down next to the windowsill. It was just big enough for him to precariously balance his laptop on it. Benji watched with surprise as Daniel pulled out a thick textbook and placed it down on the windowsill next to his laptop. It looked like he was checking the back of the book and pulling up Quizlet.

There was another tab open on his computer, but Daniel quickly closed it when he realized that Benji was watching him.

They made awkward eye contact for a second, and then the two of them went back to doing their own assignments.



James was glad when Daniel and Benji didn't talk to him and instead quietly got to work on their own assignments - and whatever else. As for him, the moment he got to work, his mind started working quickly. This happened often - his brain would start running at a marathon pace, and he would we rapidly flipping between tabs in his browser and pages in his book. Time escaped him. He stopped watching the clock. All he knew was work. Get it done, absorb the information, relay it over and over in his head as he typed, and hit submit.

This went on for quite some time. Every once in a while he would feel the tug of hunger in his stomach and reach out to the snack bowl without a thought, and he would satiate the hunger temporarily before he got back to typing or reading.

Eventually, he managed to get everything on his checklist finished. When his mind came to a screeching halt and he looked at the clock, he saw that a little over two hours had passed. Two hours of silence... with no headphones. In some ways, it was like being in the library, but with a slightly different atmosphere. Here, he could eat and work at the same time.

When he glanced at the snack bowl he noticed it was almost empty. He couldn't actually recall how much of it he'd eaten himself, and how much of it was Benji or Daniel.

He sat there for a moment, staring blankly into the room as he let his mind decompress.

He was done for the day. Tomorrow he would get ahead some more. But for now, he could rest.

Slowly, he closed his laptop and leaned his head back onto the couch, letting out a quiet sigh.



Daniel didn't actually have any homework assignments to do that day.

He hadn't wanted to bring that up when they were asking James to come to their room earlier. He also hadn't mentioned it to Benji while they were walking. It was syllabus week, and he took mostly biology classes outside of his English and Philosophy ones that he shared with Benji and James. They hadn't even gotten past an introductory lecture in the one class he had besides philosophy yesterday.

But he still wanted to seem like he was doing something.

So he ended up making a Quizlet for the terms in the first chapter of that class's textbook, then hopped onto the forum he frequented whenever he wasn't reading The Skeptic. Rob had messaged him on there earlier; he didn't really feel replying. But after writing up a reply and scanning the forum for new posts, he found that he really didn't have anything to do.

...It was a long two hours.

But James was finally done. Benji looked like he was done, too. If Daniel hadn't been pretending that he had homework, he would have been grinning from ear-to-ear at finally being free from the awkward homework session.

He glanced at the time on his computer screen.

It was almost dinner...

Daniel gave a little stretch and got to his feet.

"Do you have any plans for dinner tonight?" Daniel asked.



James hadn't really thought that far ahead. He was thinking that maybe he could go grocery shopping? Could he fit that in?

"Not necessarily," he said slowly, sliding his laptop back into his backpack. "I do need to do some shopping... at some point."

But he knew Daniel wouldn't ask for no reason.

"What are you thinking?"



...Daniel hadn't gotten that far.

Part of him had expected James to outright say he already had plans - or that he wanted to go back to his room. The shopping definitely posed a problem, too. He didn't want to take up James's time, and it was clear that James was already wiped from the homework session.

Maybe they could have something in their dorm? That would be lowkey. Benji would probably like that, too.

Benji glanced over at the fridge.

"I think we have a pre-made frozen pizza," Benji said. "That wouldn't take long to heat up."

Daniel grinned. That was perfect! It was a healthy kind of pizza, too, so James would be happy with that. And if he remembered right, they even had some things that they could put on as toppings.



James sat for a moment, already averaging times in his head. When stores closed. The latest time he could go to bed without feeling like death in the morning.

He was willing to make it work.

"Sure," he said. "Do you want help?"



Benji shook his head.

"I can do it," he said. He got to his feet, giving James a shy smile. "But thank you for the offer."

Then he was off into the kitchen, leaving Daniel and James alone in the living room part of the suite. Benji was technically nearby, but Daniel was quickly realizing he had absolutely no idea what James's interests were - he had just suggested that James come with them because Benji seemed comfortable with him.

"It looks like you got a lot of homework done," Daniel finally said.



James nodded, still feeling like his brain was fried, staring at the ceiling.

"I finished all of my assignments for the week," he said. "There's not that many since it's only the first week, but now that they're out of the way, I can work on getting ahead as much as possible. And I can work the weekend without the anxiety of assignments."

He paused, and turned to Daniel.

"Did you get anything done?"



Daniel faltered.

For a moment, he wondered if James was somehow onto him - that he knew Daniel didn't actually have anything he really needed to do when he asked James to come do homework with them. Should he have switched out his textbooks periodically? Would that have made it seem like he was doing homework?

"I did," he confidently said. "I made a Quizlet and did some studying."



James nodded. "Nice," was his one word affirmation.

"So... I forget if you ever told me, but, what's your major again?"



Daniel resisted the urge to sigh in relief at the topic change.

"I'm not sure I did," Daniel said. "I'm double majoring in biology and mueseum studies. What about you?"



James hummed and grinned a little. "Nice to meet another double major. I'm majoring in English and History."



"Sound like a lot of writing," Daniel guessed. "Are you a part of the English club? I don't think I've seen you there before."



"Ah," James nodded. "I was my first year, but I don't really have time for it anymore. Work takes up a lot of my freetime, and it is a lot of writing. And my classes this year are pretty demanding."



Daniel nodded. That made sense. He thankfully had enough money saved up for college, but he could see how classes and work would make it difficult to attend a club. He had skipped out on a few meetings before so he could focus on his homework instead.

"I feel that with the classes," he said. "I'm finally able to take higher level biology classes this year."

Then he fell into an awkward silence, not quite sure where this conversation could go next.

Thankfully, that was when the oven's timer started beeping.

"The pizza's ready," Benji said from over in the kitchen.



James turned to the kitchen, lifting his head a little. He caught a whiff of the pizza from where he sat and felt hungry again. He glanced at Daniel and got to his feet, going into the kitchen, ready to eat.



Closing his laptop and textbook, Daniel joined Benji and James over in the kitchen. Benji was already cutting the pizza up into slices and putting them on plates. It smelled absolutely delicious, but he was more distracted by how special this whole moment was. He hadn't ever had a homework session and then dinner with someone in college before.

Daniel grinned.

Junior year was going to be the best year of college yet.

Lordy dropped Morri off at the library and felt the weight of the day suddenly collapse on his shoulders. He rubbed his head after he backed into the parking lot, his freshly manicured nails gleaming in the setting sunlight.

Is it bed time yet? he thought to himself.

Stepping out of his car, he figured he should go to his office to at least try to get himself organized a bit before class the next day. As he made his way inside his office building he took in how calm everyone on campus was. They were completely ignorant to everything falling apart around them. Lordy shook his head and power walked the rest of the way to his office.

Upon his first entrance, he noticed a little package on his desk.

"Hm..." He eyed the package suspiciously and uncharacteristically locked his door behind him, "A present?"

Lordy realized he was talking to himself but at this point that's the least strange thing we have read about him.

"Ah!" he picked it up realizing it was from Carter, "I guess I missed the poor kid. I hope he doesn't take it personally."

Lordy sat down behind his desk and opened the package up to find a small flash drive inside. he raised an eyebrow, wondering if maybe Carter had now planted secret cameras in his office, but shook the thought away as he pulled his laptop out of one of his desk drawers. As he waited for it to boot up, he came to the realization that he definitely had to pretend that he didn't get this package. Evidence was always a bad thing, and Lordy didn't need anything else coming back to haunt him.

Once it was ready, Lordy plugged the flash drive into the computer and began playing the video. he took note of how many there were and where they were facing. For research purposed. Immediately after, he tossed the flash drive into the trash bin and placed the package into one of his drawers, reminding himself to burn it once he left.

Putting his elbows on his desk and his head in his hands, he sighed to himself, "I just need a few minutes to relax."

Jerica regretted the fact that the football team wasn't just a bunch of James-clones. It was kind of nice to get complimented for things that you were clearly terrible at -- rather than getting insulted for what you were actually good at. She scarfed down some food and hurried to practice, keeping head down as Coach said that he was going to have a "bonding" activity between the years and sent her to the gym.

She was actually relieved. She went with the freshmen and sophomores to the weight room and conditioned for two hours, while the upperclassmen -- and, most importantly -- J.R. stayed out on the field to actually run drills. She was already tired by the time it was time to walk out to the field for the last two hours of practice.

Jerica ended up walking next to David, the sophomore quarterback understudy. She took a deep breath, her chest feeling a bit tight. At this point, she wasn't really sure what her standing was on the team. J.R. clearly hated her, which meant most of the team probably did too. But they'd said she was top recruit.

She swallowed hard, deciding to risk it. "David, right?"

He looked at her and grinned. "Davey. You're Ansley, right?"

"Ainsley," she corrected, returning the smile. "And that's my last name. Jerica."

"Nice to meet you, Jerica." He glanced around, then looked back at her. "Personally, I'm really glad to have you on the team. I think a lot of us are, we just..."

"Don't sweat it." She shrugged. She understood how it was. She had a penchant for taking on the powerful assholes -- but that always came with consequences, and not everyone appreciated those.

"No, it's not okay how he's acting," he said, lowering his voice. "I honestly don't know why he's being such a dick. Like, yeah, we usually have initiation and get y'all shitfaced, but... not like this. He's targeting you. And..."

"J.R.'s word is law," another boy whispered, walking up on her left. "We can't... look, just know there's a lot more of us on the team that want you here than don't, okay? You're a damn good halfback, Freshie."

He clapped her on the back.

"Thanks." She smiled shyly at him, then looked back at Davey. She had at least two allies on the team, and that felt nice. Even if J.R. was probably going to follow her out of practice later and kick her teeth in. Oh well. It's not like she hadn't gotten her ass kicked plenty of times in the past. "Means a lot."

"It's the truth," the boy on her left said. "Zack, by the way."

"Jerica," she said, smiling at him. "Nice to meet you."

They were to the edge of the field now, walking towards the center.

"AINSLEY!" Coach bellowed. "Get your ass over here!"

She glanced up at the boys on either side of her, fear stabbing through her chest. This was it. Lordshire had gotten her kicked off the team. Her heart sank as she jogged over to Coach. He purposefully strode away from the team, walking until they were well out of earshot.

"What the hell did you do?" he snarled the instant she stopped in front of him.

"Sir?" She took a deep breath, wondering what story he'd been told if he didn't already know that she and J.R. had been caught fighting by Lordshire. She'd spent most of her time in the weight room thinking up an explanation for that, if she'd only been tattled on instead of expelled.

I asked J.R. to help me try out some self-defense moves I learned yesterday. There was this personal safety seminar. Just wanted to see if it'd actually work.

It was believable... maybe.

"I've been coaching college ball for nineteen years, kid," he snapped. "And never have I had a dean come onto my field and pull one of my players."

"I can explain--" She hesitated when he finished his statement. "What?"

"Lordshire," -- he made it sound like a curse -- "Came by right at the start of practice and walked off with J.R."

She blinked at him. So, Lordshire had already been here? And... was mad at J.R.? But not her? That seemed like too much to hope for. Her gaze nervously flicked towards the edge of the field, wondering if Lordshire was coming back for her. Dread settled in the pit of her stomach. "What'd he want?"

"Why don't you tell me?" he glowered. "Doesn't seem to be a coincidence that the week I put a girl on the team, my star player goes missing."

"Missing?"

"Lordshire's got a way of making his 'problems' disappear." Coach rubbed his face. "I've got a feeling that J.R.'s not coming back. And I've got an even stronger feeling that you're the reason. You really went to snitch to the dean?"

"I DIDN'T!" Jerica said, maybe a bit too loud. "I would never. I ain't said shit to no one, sir. I ain't a narc."

"Well, you better hope not," Coach said resentfully. "Get to work."

Jerica was confused. And pleased. She'd thought that best-case-scenario, she was going to be kicked off the team. Worst-case, maybe even expelled from HPU entirely, since Lordshire was a pissed-off-dean. But, he'd expelled J.R. instead? And she wasn't even in trouble? That was better than she ever could have hoped for. She became increasingly emboldened when Lordshire never showed up to pull her from practice.

She cut past a liquor store on her way back from practice. She'd promised Lordshire booze if he didn't get her kicked off the team -- and she may as well bring a goodwill offering sooner rather than later, to ensure her luck held out.

Jerica had visited Rek enough last year to know which liquor stores didn't look too closely at I.D.s. She bought a fifth of the whiskey she'd seen on Lordshire's desk earlier, as well as some Captain, and two cheap shot glasses along with a bottle of Coke. Then she decided to swing past his office, just to see if he was still in for the day, even though it was getting kind of late.

She wrinkled her nose as she walked, realizing she still smelled bad. She changed out of her practice clothes into a pair of clean leggings and a tank, but she refused to shower in the locker room, and it was too much trouble to bother walking all the way to the soccer field to make it to a girl's locker room. She'd tried to mask the odor best she could with body spray, but it was a weak effort.

Lordshire's door was shut when she got there, but the light was on. She took a moment to compose herself, trying to think of how she wanted to approach this. She'd been disgustingly cowardly earlier. That wasn't like her... at least, she didn't want to believe that it was. Lordshire had just caught her off guard -- both in catching her and in being a freaking dean. She hadn't had the luxury of thinking about how to approach the situation earlier.

She decided to lead with her charming, flamboyant self. She could always resort to begging if things went badly again. But, that wasn't going to happen. Hopefully. She had booze this time, and that always made her life better. Well, usually.

She walked up to the door and knocked, then tried the handle, pushing it open before she waited for a response.

"For the record, I had the situation under control. I'm far more scared of you than I am J.R.," she sat down, bending down to unzip her backpack. "But thank you for not kicking me off the team."

She pulled the whiskey out of her bag and held it up, then set it on his desk and slid it towards him. "I brought booze as promised."

Then she pulled out both shot glasses and set them down on the desk with a clink then pulled out the bottle of rum. "You like rum?"

She poured both without waiting for a response, then picked one up, raising it a bit as she finally bothered to look up to meet his gaze. "To me not getting expelled today."

Lordy eyed Jerica and the drink she placed in front of him, wondering why his door wasn't locked like it was in the last post. It had been not even one day since the last time he had a student and a bottle of alcochol with him in the same room. He picked up the glass she offered and shook the rum around in it, wondering how good of an idea this was.

"Are you trying to get me fired?" He asked.

"Fired?" Jerica leaned back in her seat, flashing a quick grin. "No. Drunk? Maybe."

"Hm," He took a sip of the rum and tried to pretend he cared what it tasted like, "What makes you think I would get you kicked off the team?"

"What else was I supposed to think?" She threw back her shot, cringing, then leaned forward to pour another. "Bad things happened when I got sent to the principal's office, figured dean was the college-version of that."

"Well normally when someone is getting bullied they would expect the teacher to reprimand the bully, don't you think? Or do I come off as one of those pretentious teachers who care more about our rEpUtAtIoN?"

Jerica hesitated for a second, looking at him, before she shoved the bottle of rum across the desk towards him. "Huh... I used to get suspended, no matter who started it."

Lordy finished his glass and began to pour himself another, "That's probably more because they were annoyed hearing your voice than because you were getting into fights."

"Hah! Could be." She smirked. "Rum helps with that, I hear."

"Oh don't worry, I have no issue with you being a loudmouth. I can see you trying to cover up the fact that you don't want anyone to take you for a softy." Lordy took another shot of the rum and passed the bottle back to Jerica, "But you know who's voice I can't stand? That NED kid. I'd fail him the second I get a reason to."

"That's because I'm not a softy." She took her shot and poured another. "And oh my god. Did Morri tell you about that poem? I wanted to die. vomit. sob."

"Oh please, you have the exterior of a lion but the interior of a marshmellow, anyone with two eyes can see that." Lordy waved his hand in the air, "But no he didn't. Morri is too much of a goody goody to talk bad about his student. I hope you know..." Lordy looked directly at Jerica, "All I do is talk shit about you all."

"Ideal." She handed the bottle back to him. "Who's up next?"

Lordy's mind flashed back to the twitching body of JR, "Pardon?"

"Shit talking is one of my favorite pasttimes too," she answered, taking another shot. "Especially the football team, those dicks -- do you have any of them in class?"

"Doubtful." Lordy scratched his chin, "Most of them are walking advertisements for the college teams, much like yourself."

Jerica squinted at him, clearly not sure whether he'd just insulted her. "Which means?"

Lordy turned his head back to her, "You walked into class the first day, clearly hungover, LATE, and literally wearing the football teams sweatpants. You may as well have tattooed 'I'm on the football team' on your forehead."

"Okay, I was only wearing those because..." She trailed off, seeming to think better of her excuse. Instead, she set her glass down on the edge of his desk and leaned back in the chair. "Fair points. I'll give you that."

"But, no brain dead sports hunk would sass me first thing in the morning either. That's how I knew it was all a facade." He looked into her eyes, "You're just putting up a front."

"There'd be better fronts to put up than this hot mess, if that's what I was doing," she laughed. "Don't you think?"

"Look kid," Lordy looked away and raised eyebrows, "I never said you were good at it." He held his glass up to her, "Rum me."

"Jokes on you." She filled his glass, and moved the bottle to fill her own, too, even though she didn't pick it up right away. "I know I'm good at it. I'm good at everything."

"I like the confidence. Reminds me a lot of myself." Lordy sipped from his glass, "Maybe one day you can be Lordy J.R."

Jerica nodded, picking up her glass and swirling it a bit. "I mean, you seem to be doing well for yourself. Nice office. Shiny plaque. No J.R.. I can dig it."

"That's right," Lordy stared at the wall and finished his drink, "No Jay Are..."

"It's such a dumb name." Jerica took the shot then took a deep breath and looked down at the glass for a long moment, like she was trying -- and failing -- to remember how many she'd taken. "I still can't believe you got him kicked off the team. Incredible."

"Oh right," Lordy had been wondering what excuse old Herby would use, "It's not that hard when you're a Dean. It's quite uhhh..." Lordy searched for a word, "Fun, actually."

"What'd you say to him?" She poured another shot, grinning. "Coach said you pulled him off the field, right in the middle of practice and everything."

"Jerica, do me a favor will you?"

"And shut up?" she guessed.

Lordy turned to her with a seriousness he'd forgotten he had, "Don't talk about JR anymore. With anyone."

"Oh..." Jerica looked at him, confused, for a moment, then shrugged. "Yeah, sure. Mums da word, got it." She hesitated a second, like she was trying really, really hard to leave it at that, before blurting out. "Why tho?"

Lordy paused for a second before responding, "Because if too many people start whispering, you might end up just like him."

"Got it." Jerica nodded slowly, then pushed the sealed bottle of whiskey a bit further across the desk. "Shut up, stay on the team. Can do."

"Good," Lordy poured himself another shot, "Very good. Now, how is your assignment for next class coming?"

"Wait, there was an assignment?" She stared at him for a moment. "I mean -- no, what I meant is -- it's good, yeah. Done, actually. Can't wait."

"Shut up nerd I'm messing with you." Lordy downed his shot, "You think I have the time to sit and read through papers this early in the semester?"

"Fair point," she answered, taking another shot. "And good, because I'm fully planning to show up tomorrow empty handed..." She spun the glass in her hands. "And, probably hung over, again. But, I'll shower this time."

"Shower or not as long as you're there that's all that matters." Lordy put his glass down, trying to signal he was done as he eyed the package Carter left him in the trash, "And also, be careful of the people around you."

"Sounds very philosophical-y." Jerica leaned forward and refilled his glass, then gestured at him with the bottle. "Speaking of, I still think my joke earlier was hysterical. I got dis philosophy bullshit down."

"No," Lordy rested his head on his palm, "I mean seriously, watch who's around you in this school. It's not normal here."

"That's fair," Jerica agreed, taking another shot. She took a deep breath, then sat back in her seat again, slouching a bit. "I didn't beat up at all all of last year when I was at a community college. Didn't even last a day here. This place be intense."

Lordy understood that she wasn't quite catching his drift. Even Morri had been avoiding the idea that something was off around them, but for now he would blame the alcohol. He finished the shot Jerica poured for him and set his glass down again, "Yeah- just stay away from the wrong crowds. Wouldn't want another incident would we?"

Jerica nodded, a bit too long, eyes not quite focused on anything. "I mean, can't lie. I tend to attract trouble. It's just a... a... talent, if you will. Art."

"How convenient, because I love to get kids in trouble. So please, let me know when you want to get suspended and I'll gladly oblige." Lordy wondered if there was such a thing as suspension from college but he rolled with it anyway.



"No..." Jerica wagged a finger, picking up the bottle to refill Lordy's glass. "No, no. We're..." She hesitated, pouring herself another shot as well. "You? Me? Same team."

"Yeah, yeah." Lordy picked up the glass one more time, "I find it odd I've had so many run ins with you and your little friends, even before the semester started."

"Okay, that was--" Jerica waved her hand vaguely, downing another shot. She coughed, then looked at him. "What you call a 'teaching moment' -- in that moment, I learned that professors eat in the cafeteria. It's good to know."

"Oh we don't eat there," Lordy gave her the side eye, "We just hang out there. We like to feel young again, you know?"

Jerica nodded slowly, then shook her head. "Yeah -- I mean, not really... wait are you old?" She squinted at him. "You don't look that old."

Lordy thought about it for a second. He felt like he'd lived a whole life already, "I'm 30. That's old enough to not be young."

"That's fair." Jerica nodded, clearly well on her way to drunkenness. All the false-confidence she'd brought in with her was replaced with genuine alcoholism. "I'm nineteen." She poured another shot. "So that's not, like, that old. That's like, gotta-take-Tums-after-you-drink-but-still-drink-old, yeah?"

Lordy noticed her speech beginning to slur, "It's old enough to know when it's time to call it quits."

"Yeah, fine." She took a deep breath, clearly used to being cut off before. She set her glass back down but didn't make any moves to stand up. "How'd you...?" She waved her hand vaguely. "Like, adult? And shit? I feel like thirty is young to be a dean, clearly you did... did something right?"

Lordy shrugged his shoulders, "I'm just Lordy Lordshire is all. What more do you need?"

"I wouldn't know." Jerica shrugged, relaxing in the chair. "I'm just the stupid jock."

"No," Lordy looked at her, "You just pretend to be the stupid jock. Maybe give up the whole facade and you'll start stressing less."

"Oh, guarantee that's not true," Jerica laughed. "Have you met a nerd? Rek literally never breathes, ever. I'm pretty sure he studies when he's asleep. He's way more stressed than I am. I just drink and chase balls..." Her eyes widened. "Footballs... and soccer balls... tennis balls, even."

"Have you met Professor Morrigan? All he does is sit outside and read books all day. If it weren't for me I'm fairly sure he'd never leave his house." Lordy shook his head, "And yet he's the happiest person I've ever met. Not a care in the world. He's clearly figured something out that we haven't. Perhaps the same can be said for your friend Rek."

Jerica propped her chin up on her fist, considering the idea. "True. He does seem happier, even though he works literally all the time. He'd play music nonstop if he could. Maybe we just need to get better at appreciating art 'n music 'n shit."

"Well everyone has their thing," Lordy waved his hand dismissively, "Some people sit back and make art for others to appreciate and some people appreciate the art that others make. It's all about what you like. Me personally? I like to go for long drives."

"Mm, yeah, drives are ni-"

"Usually off of cliffs. But that's only in my dreams." Lordy cut her off.

She nodded. "Valid."

Lordy stared at the wall for a bit while they sat in silence. He tapped on the desk and wondered if he would ever get any peace today. By the way his head was feeling, he was guessing that wouldn't be happening. "Do you thi-"

"What did you do to J.R.?" she interrupted suddenly, sitting upright as her drunk brain clearly made some connections. What connections that might be was anyone's guess. "I can't-- there was something. Something you don't want me to know. And it's bugging me. Why don't you want me talking about it?"

Lordy sighed, a bit taken aback by the question, but had unfortunately lost the ability to care about two shots ago, "Because he's dead."



Jerica gaped at him, unable to do anything but stare. Dead? What did that mean? J.R. wasn't dead. She'd seen him just that afternoon, at the start of practice. She took a deep breath -- about to explain to Lordshire that J.R. couldn't actually be dead -- then it struck her that he'd seen J.R. after she had. "Oh." That didn't make things better. "Wait, wait, wait. What? Dead? Like... dead-dead?"

"Like buried in a park, dead."

Was that a... metaphor for something? It seemed like people at this school came up with metaphors for the weirdest things. Pianos. Parks. But, then, she had asked if he was dead-dead, so surely Lordshire knew what she meant. She flashed a nervous smile, wondering what he meant by that, and mostly hoping he was joking. "Hah, good one."

Lordy face remained unphased as he turned to her, "You're welcome."

He didn't look like he was joking. A sense of dread settled in her stomach, but her brain was moving too slowly to really process what was happening. She didn't want him dead... although she couldn't claim that she mourned him. "Did... you...?"

Lordy cracked a smile thinking back to that afternoon, "I think I have work to catch up on, Jerica dear. Maybe we could pick this up tommorow?"

That wasn't an answer. She stared at him for another moment. What was that even supposed to mean? Was he admitting to murder? Or, not-admitting-to-murder? Or... she'd clearly drank too much rum. They'd entered the twilight zone where everyone confessed their deepest sins. And she wasn't sure she wanted to know Lordshire's. "Sure."

She leaned forward and clumsily reached for her backpack.

Lordy clapped his hands togther, "Well thank you for stopping by. I'm glad we had this chat. And uh... leave the rum."

She stared at him a moment longer, feeling vaguely dazed. What was even happening right now. "Yeah, sure. And, uh, me too. Thanks for not kicking me off the team... and... not taking me to any parks?" She zipped her bag and took a step towards the door, stumbling slightly as her toe caught on her chair. She turned and backed towards the entrance. "You seem like you're pretty okay, Lordshire."



He shook his head, "Don't get used to it." He gave her a small wave goodbye as she continued backwards.