Her Facebook status read, "Today, I went to the park and kissed a girl from USC." We are broken up and she has every right to kiss someone, so why do I feel so horrible? Why have I been reading that sentence over and over for the past two hours, hoping it really isn't there? She is no longer mine. Hell, I was the one who broke up with her. There is no reason for me to be crying like I am right now. I hate you, Casey Novak.

Then I start to remember the highlights of my relationship with Casey. Our moments together start playing in my head like a montage from a cheesy movie. The night she lost her virginity to me. The way she asked me to be her girlfriend. Laying in the garden at night and confessing our love for each other. Parent's Weekend when Casey came out to her dad and he welcomed me to the family. Flying to Massachusetts for my mom's birthday party and my mom saying, "You need to marry this girl." Time with friends. Time alone. Moments of passion and intimacy. Soft red hair and bright green eyes. Porcelain skin. Dimples. Tiny freckles on her body. Goodnight and good morning kisses. Inside jokes. The 50 songs that we claimed were "our song." Flying to Colorado the day after finals. Casey coming out to her sister and her sister saying, "Thank God. Now I know you won't be after my boyfriends." Meeting her best friend Sam. Our brush with death in the mountains. The night our libidos got the best of us and changed our lives forever. Slamming doors. Yelling. Crying. The rage in Casey's mom's eyes as she slapped Casey. "You perverted little bitch!" Casey sneaking out of her house and getting a motel room with me so we could have one more night together. "I'm gonna get hell for this, Alex, I just need to know that it's worth it. I need to know we're going to be together forever."

I should have let her down easy. I should have called over Winter Break and told her that I love her and that this is only a temporary separation, not a breakup. Instead I broke up with her the day we got back to campus after not calling or texting her for three weeks. She literally begged me not to break up with her. I deserve all of the heartache I'm going through.

I look at the time on my laptop and realize I have been daydreaming about Casey for over an hour. This is ridiculous. I have to see her. My eyes are swollen from crying and I know I am being irrational right now. I don't know what seeing her will accomplish. We're not going to be a couple again, not as long as her mother is acting like a religious zealot and condemning Casey to Hell for loving me. I don't even know where Casey is and if I find her, what makes me think she will even speak to me? I don't care. I grab my keys and leave the room. I wish my roommate were here to stop me.

I knock on Casey's door, hoping she'll answer and do what, I honestly don't know. It's dead silent inside.

I know finding Casey in this city is hopeless, so I decide to take a walk on campus to clear my head. I decide to go to the Sculpture Garden. I need to lie on the grass there. I need to be in the same spot I was at when Casey and I first said, "I love you." It's 1 am and the garden is dimly lit, but I don't care. Being there will make me feel close to Casey again.

I breakdown crying when I find the exact spot we were at that night. This is where it happened. This is where we were laying next to each other. Our fingers laced. My blonde hair entwined with her red hair. "I love how you always smell like honeysuckle," I told her. "And I love the way your eyes change from baby blue to deep blue depending on what you're wearing," she told me.

"I love the WTF face you make when someone says something stupid. And I love the signature Casey smile with dimples." She smiles at me. "That's the one," I tell her.

"I love you, Alex."

"I love you too, Casey."

We were too caught up in this new milestone in our relationship that we didn't care if we were outdoors and somebody could have caught us at any given moment. We made love to each other right then and there. Even though we are broken up, I still consider that to be the best night of my life. I snap back to reality when I hear someone's fragmented cell phone conversation.

"How's my favorite gay boy? Oops! Sorry, I didn't know you were getting laid. I can't believe you answered your phone. That's so BFF of you. Call me tomorrow and we'll gab about our dates. I love you. Bye." I can hear a quiver in her voice. This girl has obviously been crying. If she were my friend, I would have stayed on the phone with her.

Another tortured soul. I walk over to see if she's okay.

Son of a bitch!

"Casey?" She looks different. Her long red hair is now shoulder length and blonde. I don't know if I can get used to this.

"Alex?" She looks me up and down. My hair is in a ponytail and I'm wearing a UCLA hoodie with some jeans and flip flops. I look like a child in comparison to her in her strapless black dress and heels. My keys and cell phone are in my pocket while hers are neatly tucked away in her handbag. This is a far cry from the girl who wore Converse with the words "I love Alex" written on them in rainbow-colored Sharpies.

We exchange the usual pleasantries. "Oh my gosh, how are you? It's so good to see you!" It's all bullshit, but what else is there to say in this situation? I sit next to her in awkward silence for five minutes, but it seems like an eternity. Someone needs to break the ice.

"Why the hell didn't you call me?" she asks. "I waited by my phone for three weeks to hear something, anything from you, Alex. For three weeks, I held on to the slightest hope that things would be better once we got back to campus and you just break up with me like that. No explanation. No face-to-face contact. Just a fucking phone call saying 'I'm sorry, Casey. I can't do this anymore.' You might as well have sent me a text message or written it on the white board outside of my dorm."

"I'm sorry, Case. I just couldn't deal with it. I couldn't be with you after those awful things your mom said about us. I know how close you are to your mom and I didn't want to be what caused a wedge between you."

"Alex, she's in Colorado and we're in Los Angeles, my mom wouldn't have known."

"I don't want to be somebody's secret girlfriend. If we're going to be together, I don't want to have to hide it."

"You're such a coward, Alex," Casey says as she storms off. She's in four-inch heels, so she can't get away very fast. I immediately catch up with her.

"Baby, I'm sorry."

"I'm not your fucking baby, Alex."

"I'm sorry, Casey. That was uncalled for. But….can we please talk?"

"Fine, but not out here. It's getting late. Let's go to your car."

It's the most awkward 20-minute walk of my life. Neither of us knows what to say to each other. It's late-January and Casey is without a sweater. Maybe I should offer her my hoodie. We make the exchange without speaking a word.

Casey inhales the scent on the collar. "You have no idea how much I've missed this scent. I feel like it's fall quarter again and we're cuddling in your bed." She looks at me with that familiar smile and I feel my heart skip a beat. I grab Casey's hand and lace my fingers with hers.

"It's about time, Alex. Now that we're about a minute from your car."

"Leave me alone. I've been waiting six weeks to do that."

We get into the backseat of my car and Casey wastes no time getting comfortable. Before I know it, her heels and the hoodie are off and she is lying down with her head in my lap. I begin stroking her hair and she lets out a contended sigh. This feels so different. I can't believe the blonde hair I'm stroking belongs to Casey.

"I've had some of the best times of my life in this car," she tells me before we start a slew of "remember whens."

My stomach is in knots and I'm having a hard time speaking. Casey and I both know that we didn't come into the car just to talk, but neither of us have the courage to make the first move. It took me the whole walk over here just to gather the courage to hold her hand. Kissing her seems nearly impossible right now. I'm nervous simply running my fingers through her hair. Her bleach blonde hair is lighter than mine. I still can't get used to this. Her hair is different. Her body is different. I can see the tag peaking out of her dress. Size 0? When did Casey become a size 0? The familiar scent of her honeysuckle body spray has been replaced by a vanilla perfume.

"What's this new perfume you're wearing, Case?"

"I'm wearing the same one I've worn since 7th grade."

I wish I had never asked that question. I wish she would have lied and told me it was a Christmas gift from her grandmother. Anything but the truth. The truth sickened me. The vanilla scent of her new girl was still on her, a girl she was obviously intimate with just hours before.

"Did you fuck her tonight?" I asked, not sure if I sounded angry or hurt.

"What?" She immediately gets her head off my lap and sits up.

"You heard me. Were you touching my hand with the same fingers that were inside her just moments ago? If I kissed you I bet I'd still be able to taste her on your tongue." My confidence was gone. There was no longer any trace of anger in my voice. I was plain hurt.

"You broke up with me, Alex. What was I supposed to do, cry in my room until you asked me if I wanted to get back together?"

"I just expected more from you, Casey."

"Why the fuck does everyone keep saying that? First my mom, then my roommates, now you. Even my brother is pissed at me. We haven't spoken in over a week."

"How many girls have you had sex with since we broke up?"

"Just one, Alex. I'm sure you've had more."

"I've had 0, Casey. I can't even think of touching another girl now that I've had you."

Casey takes her eyes off of me and looks at the ground. "Her and I aren't serious, you know? Tonight I found out she has a girlfriend and I'm kind of like her fuck toy on the side, which is why I was crying."

"I'm sorry, Case. That sucks."

"Tell me about it. There's no way in hell I'm seeing her again. I don't mind being someone's little fuck toy, but I'm not going to be the 'other woman.' That's just wrong."

"Well, your Facebook status said she was from USC. What did you expect from a Trojan girl?"

Casey giggles. "I know, right? This is what I get for being a traitor."

It suddenly doesn't matter to me that she's been with another girl. I know she is feeling the same thing I'm feeling. I lay Casey down and start to kiss her as she pulls me close enough to close the gap between our bodies. Her lips have the familiar strawberry flavor that I love. I'm glad some things never change.

"Alex, I miss being your girlfriend, " she says after our rather heated make-out session.

"I miss being your girlfriend, too. I cry about it every night. I'm constantly replaying that night your mom walked in on us making love. If only we would have controlled ourselves, Casey. I was stupid for putting you in that situation."

"Alex, I'm the one who put the moves on you, remember? And how were we supposed to know that she would come into my room at 1 am? There's no point in blaming yourself or dwelling on it. It's time to move forward."

"Move forward together? Move forward alone? What?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of moving forward together, but it depends on how good you are at begging for it."

"Alex Cabot does not beg," I tell her.

"I bet I can make Alex Cabot do whatever I want her to." She slowly starts unzipping the back of her dress, her eyes never leaving mine. The top of her dress is getting lower until she finally lets it fall. Casey is sitting in my car, naked from the waist up, and there is absolutely nothing I can do about it.

"Why are you torturing me like this?"

"Because I can."

I quickly remove my tank and toss it aside. Casey grabs me by my belt loops and pulls me on top of her. I don't know how, but she is able to wriggle out of the rest of her dress. She is clad in nothing but her panties. I'm afraid to look down for fear of losing what little composure I have left. Oh, please don't be red and lacy. I glance down. Fuck. They are. I'm a goner. I can't let her know I'm turned on. This is part of some sick, twisted game she's playing. Think un-sexy thoughts. Paper due tomorrow. Mid-terms in two weeks. I really should study for them. Chemistry. My American history class. I hope I don't fail. What classes should I take next quarter? Should I study abroad…or two? Okay, lame joke.

My own surprised gasp brings me back to reality. I feel myself tightening around Casey's fingers. She pulls out as quickly as she enters me. I see a sly grin on her face as she holds three soaked fingers in front of her. "I knew I had you right where I wanted you, Alex."

Who is this girl? My mind drifts back to the night Casey lost her virginity to me. I remember how much her body was trembling. She asked me to be gentle with her and I complied. During the two and a half months of our relationship, I was always gentle with her when we made love. She always seemed so fragile to me. Tonight has proven to me that she is no longer the delicate girlfriend I had last quarter. Is this something the new girl taught her or is she finally uninhibited? Maybe this is the real Casey and I was so obsessed with protecting her that I didn't notice what she really needed. A tear streams down my cheek. "I'm sorry, Casey. I'm just not ready for this."

She wraps her arms around me. "I don't think I am either."

"You could've fooled me. What with that show you just put on."

"Physically, I'm ready, Alex. Emotionally, not so much."

"I know what you mean. It was never just physical with us."

"Why don't we stop torturing each other and get dressed. It's getting cold in here."

I get dressed and grab a blanket and pillow from the trunk. It's 4:30 in the morning and I don't see a chance of Casey and me leaving this car.

She plants a quick kiss on my lips when I return. "You were gone less than a minute and I already missed you." Finally, a trace of my former girlfriend.

I wake up 4 hours later to the sound of someone getting into their car a few feet away. It takes me a few minutes to adjust to my surroundings. I see that Casey is no longer with me. My mind begins to wander. Maybe last night was just a dream. It was late when I left my dorm. Maybe I never found her and just decided to crash here. I'm brought back to reality by my vibrating cell phone. Who the hell is texting me this early?

It's Casey! "I tried waking you, but you wouldn't budge, as usual. I had class at 8 so I had to leave to get ready. Look at your white board."

I trek back to my dorm, physically and emotionally exhausted from last night. I hope my roomie is home. This is one of those situations that calls for some serious girl talk. I walk up to the fourth floor. Damn that crowded elevator. I remembered Casey's text about checking the white board and my stomach does flip-flops as I reach my room.

Written in red marker, were the three most beautiful words I have read in a long time: "Casey loves Alex."