A/N: At long last! My sydrian college AU. This is part one in a two part story. It's something I've been working on for a lonnnnnnnng time, the second half still has a ways to go before I'm finished but I wanted to post part one tonight because of reasons. I really hope you guys like it, I've put a lot of effort into it *kawaii flower face emoticon* and I just hope you little munchkins enjoy it! AU...AU...AU ( i feel like i have to say that more than once sometimes...-_-) / AH

I was sitting on a swing reading a book. That's how it started. It was second grade. I remember it was second grade, it had to be, because I hadn't got the chicken pox yet and was still midway through my overall phase. I wore overalls to school almost everyday. I had them in all different textures: denim, corduroy, you name it. I think I even had a pair that were crushed velvet (I know). I was obsessed with them. They were what my mom always wore when I'd watch her work on cars in the garage. I always thought she looked so powerful and beautiful, covered in sweat and grease, clad in her ratty overalls. And I wanted to be just like her. Hence, my overall phase. Luckily, kids were too young to really care all that much about what other kids covered their bodies with, so I didn't really get picked on for it or anything like that. It was usually just innocent confusion, like a girl I'd never spoken to before would come up to me and say, "How come you're always wearing those?" And I'd smile brightly and inform her that it was because I liked them more than any other clothes. And she'd say, "Oh. Okay." And walk away. And that would be the end of that. I shudder to think of what my life would have been like had I gone through my overall phase when I was 13, but I digress.

I was sitting on a swing reading a book when an older boy came up to me and said, "Hey, no fair! All the swings are taken and you're not even using this one!" He was quite tall and something about his shorn head was inexplicably intimidating, so I silently slipped off my swing and walked away as quickly as possible. Scoping out a new spot to read in peace, I noticed the old jungle gym was vacant. Our school had recently built a new one that didn't, to me, seem all that much different from the old one. But it was a different color and it shined in the sunlight so it was, by default, much better. And much more populated.

I climbed up the steps into the plastic tree house that connected to the big, twisty slide and nearly dropped my book in surprise. The jungle gym wasn't vacant, after all. There was a boy, crouched up in the corner of the tree house, sniffling.

I immediately went into Mother Mode. "Are you hurt?" I gasped, kneeling down to inspect him for any visible cuts or bruises. "Do you need to go to the nurse? Do you need a band-aid?"

He turned to me, then. His eyes red rimmed and bleary. "No. Go away."

"Why are you crying?" I demanded quite insensitively, because I was eight.

"Because I want to go home. This school is stupid." he answered back, just as bluntly. Because he was also eight.

"No, it's not." I said, settling into a comfortable sitting position beside the boy.

"Is too," he argued, wiping his shirt sleeve across his face.

"Well, there's only a few more hours left until you get to go home," I told him. "So there's no need to cry."

"No, I mean I want to go home-home!" he clarified, as if I were an idiot. "Back to my old house, and my old school, and my old friends and my-m-" His voice wavered and his eyes welled up with a fresh batch of tears.

"It's okay," I said. I leaned over so I could wrap my arms around him and squeeze him into a tight hug, because that's what you were supposed to do when someone was crying. "It's okay," I repeated, subconsciously mimicking my mother's soft, serene voice.

The boy turned his head away from me and my face pressed into his hair. It smelled like sea-salt. I was suddenly nervous. I'd never been this close to a boy before. I had never understood the point of watching the girls run around the playground playing chase-and-tackle with the boys. Or even more perplexing, letting the boys chase-and-tackle them. Anyway, naive as I was, I still knew that being this close to a boy meant something. I just didn't really know what.

After a few minutes of shuddering sobs, he seemed to calm down again. His body heaved with heavy breaths against me.

"This school isn't bad," I told him, our tiny bodies still pressed close. "You're just not used to it."

"I don't wanna get used to it," he grumbled.

I didn't really know how to cheer him up. I pulled away from him and reached into the pocket of my overalls -they were one of my favorites- faded denim with colorful iron-on patches dotted arbitrarily down the legs. I pulled out the chocolate chip granola bar I had decided against eating at lunch. I offered it to the boy silently. It took him a moment to realize what I was doing. He took the granola bar from me tentatively, like I might snatch it back at any moment. He opened the wrapper and took a long, ceremonious bite. I watched him chew it with rapture. He was very cute.

He turned to me and smiled. "Thanks. You're nice."

"You're welcome," I said shyly. I picked up my long-forgotten book and asked, "Do you mind if I sit here to read?"

He shook his head, taking another bite out of the granola bar. He had the longest, thickest eyelashes I'd ever seen. I tried to bring my focus back to my book, but suddenly watching this sad, cute boy eat a granola bar was infinitely more interesting than the fantastical travels of Lemuel Gulliver.

"You talk like a grown up," he noted, mouth full of granola.

I didn't know what to say to that, so I just shrugged.

"It's cool," he added once he'd swallowed. I smiled big. I felt embarrassed, but somehow in a good way.

He pointed to a patch on my overalls, "You like horses?"

I giggled as my eyes traveled down to the circular patch he was pointing at. "Um, sort of. It's the symbol for Mustangs. You know, like the car."

He nodded, even though now he seemed even more confused.

I didn't really know how to continue the conversation. I supposed it would be appropriate for me to ask him a question, since he had just asked me one. I finally blurted, "What's your favorite color?" and tried not to wince, as even as socially oblivious as I was, knew it was a pretty lame thing to say.

The boy just smiled, a smear of chocolate evident on his chin. "Purple," he said. I was surprised, I guess I had been expecting him to say blue or maybe red. I didn't know it then, but that would prove to be a common theme with him. He always managed to throw me for a loop. More so than anyone else.

I brought my thumb to my mouth and licked it, then leaned forward, wiping the chocolate off his face. It didn't seem weird when I did it, then. Now sometimes when I lie down to sleep, I'll remember it with sudden clarity, and it keeps me awake until three in the morning, crippled with embarrassment. Like...God...why.

We talked until the bell rang, startling us from our new, shared little world. He'd recently moved halfway across the country, the reasons of which he didn't seem to want to divulge. He didn't get along so well with his father. Even at that age, I could relate. He'd asked me about a few more of my patches. He had this impish smile on his face as he listened to me explain their significance. That smile. It didn't change throughout the years. It was like the rest of his face and body and everything else about him grew around that smile.

In a grand gesture, he slid down the big, twisty slide. I realized, then, that I myself had never been down it. It was a bit underwhelming, I decided, as my denim overalls scooted across the neon plastic until I hit the ground. The boy laughed, but I didn't feel like he was laughing at me. And I liked the sound of it. So I laughed too. He stuck out his hand to help me up. Kids were filing reluctantly into their class lines. We lingered awkwardly next to each other for a moment.

"Do you need help finding your class line?" I asked in my best do-gooder voice.

He shook his head. But neither of us moved.

"Do you want to meet here again tomorrow?" I asked, confused as to why my heart was hard against my chest. "I'll bring you another granola bar."

He laughed again, like that was funny. I laughed too, like I had meant it to be funny.

Then he nodded, that impish grin coming out to play. "See you tomorrow, Mustang Girl."

"My name is Sydney." Since we were going to be friends now, it was only appropriate for him to know that.

"What's yours?" I only remembered to ask as he was already walking away from me.

He turned back for a moment, the absolute picture of cool, tossing his voice over his shoulder like a spent cigarette. In case you need reminding, he was eight. A little James Dean in the making.

"It's Adrian."

###

"Adrian," I said very evenly, absolutely refusing to let him do this to me in front of our entire debate team.

"Sage," He mocked my low tone.

I gritted my teeth. Do not blow up, I commanded myself. You know that's exactly what he wants. He wants you to look like the idiot so he comes out on top. And you always fall for it.

"You know this isn't fair," I whispered.

He laughed, a horribly irritating sound. "Well, I'm sorry." He wasn't.

"Life isn't fair," he sighed dramatically, completely sublime in his own pretension.

"You'll regret this," I told him severely, my hands thrust on my hips in a power stance. Though I felt like a cowering bystander. I knew I was. He always got his way. He had Ms. T wrapped around his little finger. Just like every other teacher in this stupid school. Oh, was that project due today? Oh silly me I must have forgotten. You'll give me an extension won't you? I'll bat my ridiculously long eyelashes at you. I might even grant you with one of my dazzling smiles. You'll give me another two weeks? Oh, you shouldn't have.

I'd never considered myself a violent person, but in that moment, I think had we been alone, I truly would have punched him right in his smug, stupid face.

"Oh, will I?" His eyebrows raised in extreme amusement.

"I'll quit," I warned, trying to sound convincing.

"So, quit." He shrugged. "We've got a great team this year. And with Dave and me as co-captains, I dare say I think this team could survive with one less Sydney Sage." He leaned closer to me. I automatically jerked back. He dropped his voice low. "Are you really going to be this sore of a loser?"

"You know that's not what this is about." I said. I tried to hold my voice steady, but I could feel my throat tightening. Feel my eyes glistening. God. Why did I always let him do this to me?

The 4 o'clock bell rang and Adrian sighed again, looking heavenward, as if I were some holy burden placed upon him. "Look, I really am sorry." Except, he wasn't. Adrian was many things. He was a startlingly attractive seventeen year old boy. He was too clever in all the wrong ways. He was a boy who knew exactly how to make his good looks work for him. He was a boy who could probably coerce you into stabbing yourself in the eye with a plastic fork and convince you it was your idea. But he was not sorry. "I know you had your heart set on captain this year, but-"

"Just forget it," I shoved past him, and out the door, refusing to let him see me cry.

###

So. Here's what happened.

I'd gone home that day exploding with joy. The first thing I said to my family at dinner was, "I made a new friend today."

My mom made a loud gasp of excitement. "That's wonderful, sweetie. What's her name?"

My legs swung restlessly underneath the table. "It's a boy."

"Sydney's got a boooooooyfriend," my older sister, Carly, taunted.

"Ewwwww," my baby sister, Zoe, joined in.

"Girls." My mother warned lovingly.

My father's eyes narrowed in contempt. "She's too young for that."

"I just made a friend!" I tried to explain, my cheeks growing hot. "He was sad because he's new and I cheered him up. I let him eat my granola bar."

My mother smiled. "That was very kind of you, Sydney."

"He liked my Mustang patch," I said, trying not to burst with pride. I also wanted to tell them about his chocolate-stained smile and sea-salt smelling hair, but thank God, I didn't.

My mother's smile spread, touching her eyes. "Sounds like a keeper to me."

My father cast me an appraising glance, then fixed his unforgiving eyes on my mother. "I thought we'd agreed to stop letting her dress like that."

My mother reached out and placed her hand over his. "Jared," was all she said.

My dad simply shook his head. "I'm telling you, people are going to start getting the wrong idea about her."

She removed her hand without another word. The rest of dinner passed with the same silence.

Before going to bed, my sister Carly came in to give me a kiss goodnight. This was not a routine occurrence and when I asked what brought on her impromptu affection she just pinched me and said, "I'm just excited you made a friend. Is he cute?"

I didn't want to answer that. Instead I asked, very quietly, "Carly...what's the wrong idea?"

My sister's beautiful face contorted into a scowl. "Nothing," she shook her head. "Dad was just being a meany. Like usual."

I nodded, like I understood, but I didn't really. Then I said, "Oh. And do you have anything purple I can borrow?"

###

I waited in the tree house for awhile before I started to get nervous. When you're that young you don't really have much self-ingrained paranoia yet. Carly's old sweater felt like slick chainmail on my skin. The straps of my overalls swung over me like an iron breastplate. Nothing could hurt me, ever.

I think I'd been waiting for about fifteen minutes before I started to think things like, maybe he's out sick today, maybe he stayed home because he got sad again, then frantically and very childishly: maybe he was so sad that his parents decided to move back home overnight. Then I thought, maybe he just forgot where we'd agreed to meet. This was a new school for him after all. Maybe he got confused and thought it was the new jungle gym and not the old one.

At that thought, I popped my head up to gaze out across the playground, seeing if I could spot him. Sure enough, he was at the other jungle gym. He was talking and laughing with a group of boys I didn't know. I was glad to see he seemed much happier today. Almost as if he could hear my thoughts, his gaze swept across the playground and landed on mine. I smiled and waved broadly at him, proudly showing off the sleeve of my plum colored sweater.

One of the boys said something and nudged him. Adrian shook his head quickly. Another boy leaned in to whisper something into his ear, both of them looking directly at me. When they pulled apart, they both laughed. And this time, I could tell, it was definitely at me. I stared blankly in confusion for a moment, unsure of how to process what just happened. One of the boys cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted something in my direction. I don't remember what he said. But I remember the laughter that followed. Adrian's being the loudest of all.

Confused, hurt, and overwhelmingly embarrassed, I sunk down into the tree house, curled against the wall, and cried. And no one, in case you're wondering, showed up to comfort me.

###

Christian let out a low whistle once I'd finished my story. "That's cold."

"So now you understand," I said brusquely.

"I understand why he's the Thor to your Loki," Christian nodded, "But not how that has anything to do with you coming out tonight."

"Excuse me?!" I sputtered loudly. "Why am I Loki? I am not Loki. He is Loki!"

A nearby librarian shushed me, eyes alit with fiery disdain. I winced in apology.

"Because you're the one with the supervillain backstory," Christian hissed.

"But I'm not the villain!" I hissed back. "He is."

"Neither one of you is a villain," Christian rolled his eyes. "You're both just stubborn, egocentric idiots who are too much alike to ever agree on anything."

"We are not alike!" I exclaimed, earning another death glare from the librarian. It wasn't like me to disrespect the sanctity of a library with unruly behavior, but Christian was being unreasonable.

Christian just grinned. "Sure you're not. But you at least have to admit to the stubborn idiot part."

"I will do no such thing," I huffed, chafing from his accusation. And his comparison of me and Adrian. "You know it's not just me."

"I never said it was just you," Christian argued. "I was there all through high school too, you know."

I'd met Christian officially on the first day of sophomore year, when we were partnered together in chemistry. I had a knack for memorizing formulas, he had a knack for setting things on fire. I'd recount the story of the exact moment we became best friends, but honestly, I don't think I could remember it if my life depended on it. It was like we just always...were. There was life before Christian. And then there was life after Christian. I much preferred life after. The only downside to it? Imagine my surprise when he introduced me to his other best friend, Adrian. Yes. That Adrian. Life with Christian unfortunately meant life with Adrian as well. I'd been forced into spending a lot more time around him during the so-called 'best years of my life' than I would have liked to.

"Adrian never missed an opportunity to tug on your proverbial pigtails, I get that. And he went too far sometimes. But so did you."

"Me?" My eyes widened in shock. "I never did anything-"

"Oh really?" Christian asked, "What about junior year when-"

"That was his own fault." I snapped.

Christian let out an exasperated sigh. "Like I said, too much alike."

"He was way worse than me," I reminded Christian.

"Perhaps," Christian cocked his head to the side. "I tried talking to him about it, but I found out pretty quickly how futile that was. He just couldn't resist pushing all your buttons. Honestly, if I didn't know any better, I'd say it was because he had a-"

"Do not," I leaned forward viciously. "Finish. That. Sentence."

"I said if I didn't know any better," Christian smirked. Then gave me a curious look. "So, what happened after that?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like, after he gave you the cold shoulder. You just never talked to him again until I brought you back together?" He beamed, like he was proud of himself.

I scoffed. "Well, sort of. My dad pulled me out of school not much longer after that. We'd joined a new church and they were big on the homeschooling fad. I didn't even see him again until freshman year of highschool, when I was back in the public system. He was already Mr. Popular by then and I just kept to myself, mostly. I never spoke to him directly, but he was such a little jerk. It just radiated off of him in waves." I shook my head. "And as you can see, it's only gotten worse."

Christian's brow creased. "I can't believe Adrian never told me any of this. Like, I asked him a thousand times what the deal was between you two...and he never gave me a straight answer."

"Well, obviously, because he knows he's the one in the wrong," I said haughtily. "The one who's always been in the wrong."

Christian tilted his head at me, smiling wryly.

"In all honesty, he probably doesn't even remember the second grade incident." I admitted, trying to sound casual, like I barely remembered it myself. "He just has it out for me, regardless. We're natural-born enemies."

Christian sighed in defeat. "Alright. Whatever you say. But I still don't understand why you can't come with me tonight. It's not like we'll be in some cramped, sweaty frat house. It's a bonfire. Everyone's spread out. The odds of you even running into each other, let alone having to breathe each other's air, are virtually nonexistent."

It may not have been a technical frat party but there would still be frat boys there. Not that I had some personal aversion to frat boys, Christian was one of them, after all. But so was Adrian. And so were all of Adrian's sleazy fraternity 'brothers', one of which was hosting this ridiculous back to school party in and outside of his family's sprawling beachside mansion.

"Regardless," I said, "It's still a party. I've been subjected to enough of those, I think." It's not like I was some overly prudent stick in the mud who turned up her nose at any sort of debauchery, it's just that what I'd seen so far of college parties did not interest me in the slightest. They were all the same. Loud. Smelly. Crowded. Drunken, obnoxious boys who didn't understand the concept of bodily autonomy. Not fun at all.

But back to the fact that Adrian would be there. Yes, against all odds, we all ended up at the same university together. It had been the first, and thankfully, the only fight Christian and I ever had. See, the plan was for Christian and I to go to college together, so we applied to the same schools and made our decisions accordingly. Little did I know Adrian had been part of the plan all along. When I found out I was, of course, furious. I know it seems immature. Campuses are big. It's not like Adrian and I would be seeing each other as often as we did in high school. But still. This was supposed to be me finally getting away from my old life, my father's rules, everything that had held me down in the past. And Adrian was just an annoyingly persistent thorn in my side. A constant reminder of everything I wanted to leave behind.

"I just want you to get out there, you know, meet some people," Christian's voice softened. "You haven't really seen anyone since Brayden..."

I groaned. I did not want to talk about my ex boyfriend right now. I'd met him last year through the Latin club and we'd hit it off fairly quickly. He was a quiet, sensitive sort of guy. Wildly intelligent, but slightly overbearing at times. Our relationship had been going...er...steadily up until he dropped the bomb that he was taking the next semester off to backpack across Europe and would be leaving as soon as classes ended. He'd invited me to go with him. As much as I loved the thought of traveling, I couldn't abandon my education right now. I'd worked so hard to come this far. An overseas adventure would have to wait. Brayden understood this of course, and then swiftly broke up with me. I suppose you could say I missed him, but as much as we seemed like the perfect match on the surface, when you got right down to it, I didn't really feel a whole lot of anything for him. He'd been my first everything and a perfect gentleman throughout the entire process, but there wasn't much to say beyond that.

"I keep telling you, I'm fine." I assured him. "Brayden and I are better off as friends, anyway."

"Yeah, I mean I liked the guy, but there was something..." Christian pursed his lips in thought, "...off about him. Just wasn't right for you. But maybe you'll meet someone tonight."

"If they spontaneously appear inside my dorm, then maybe indeed." I gave him a smug smile.

"You know you're gonna end up going, right? My skills in persuasion are unmatched. Might as well just make it easier on yourself and say yes now." Christian grinned. "I know if you come out tonight you're going to have fun. Maximum good times guaranteed."

"I think you and I agree to disagree on what constitutes as fun," I smiled.

"Yeah, well..." he smiled back. "As much as I love you, I must say, my definition is a lot better than yours."

"I'm not doing this with you right now," I said, taking a deep breath. "I don't care what you do, but keep Christian out of it."

"Ah," Adrian nodded. "So that's what this is about. Can't have the big bad wolf corrupting your innocent little boy? Well, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but you've got it twisted, sister."

"The only thing twisted here is you," I snapped. It sounded as lame as I thought it was going to.

Adrian laughed again. "Whatever, Sage. Be a stick in the mud. But don't make me the bad guy."

"You're doing a fair job of that yourself."

"Oh come on, Sage!"

"I have a first name, you know," I snapped. "It's Sydney."

"Two many syllables," Adrian shrugged. "Not worth the effort."

He laughed at my insulted expression, tagging a long drag of his cigarette. Smoking in the boy's room. Of all the cliches...

"I'm joking. You take everything so seriously."

"Right," I scoffed, now fuming to the point of boiling over. "God forbid anyone take anything seriously in your presence."

"Oh, don't give me that lecture." The arrogant grin on his face filled me with unbridled rage. "There's a thing called having fun, you should try it some time."

"I am perfectly capable of having fun," I shot back. "Forgive me if my definition of fun doesn't involve partaking in copious consumption of alcohol, fornication, recreational drug use, or any other criminal acts."

Adrian just laughed again, throwing his head back, giving me a perfect view of his elegantly sculpted profile. "Where do you come up with these lines?" He shook his head at me. "Really. Like, I need to know. Do you pick them out of your What Would Jesus Do handbook or something?"

I stilled. "So now you're making fun of my religion? Classy."

Adrian groaned, stubbing his cigarette out on the windowsill. "Oh, come on, you know I'm kidding."

"Well, you're not funny."

He cocked an eyebrow. "Isn't lying a sin?"

"Isn't everything you do a sin?" I needed to start working on my comebacks.

"We've gotta start working on your comebacks," Adrian sighed, throwing his arm around me in a surprisingly amicable way that knocked the wind out of me. I refused to acknowledge that his words echoed my own thoughts.

I shoved him off, flustered. "Don't touch me." I was done with this. He was impossible to reason with. As always, I had just been wasting my time. I hiked my bag up on my shoulder and headed for the door.

"Is that it?" Adrian called after me. "Things were just starting to heat up."

"Leave me alone," I called back as he followed me out into the hallway.

"We can't be done," he insisted, trailing after me. "You haven't even had a go at my hair yet. Or called me obnoxious or obtuse or any other SAT prep word that starts with O."

I spun around to face him. "Too many syllables," I said, giving him the frostiest look I could muster. "Not worth the effort."

"Ouch," he hissed in delight. "Good one. Now we just need to work on loosening that stick up your-"

"...ney...Sydney...Sydney!" I turned my head to see Christian giving me a quizzical look. I blinked a few times, a little dazed.

He gaped at me. "Did you seriously just...lose yourself in a flashback via wistful glance off into the distance?"

I frowned.

"Oh my god," Christian shook his head, laughing. "You are the Loki."

"I am not-"

"Ahem!" We both turned to see the same librarian from before. She didn't need to say anything else. The murderous look on her face told us she'd been bled dry of any amusement. Christian and I gathered up our things in silence as she watched us, hawk-like, until we reached the exit.

"We weren't even being that loud," Christian frowned. "I, for one, feel discriminated against in some way."

"Maybe she's got a prejudice against black haired blue eyed boys who try to peer pressure their best friends into going to parties that they don't want to go to."

"There was no peer pressure!" Christian argued. "It was light peer compression at most."

I threaded my arm through his as we walked. "I am glad we're here together, you know." It was the start of our second year but I knew he still felt a little guilty about the fact that he'd included Adrian in on what I thought were supposed to be our special plans without telling me. I was over it, really. I was so happy to be away from the life my father had planned out for me, doing what I always wanted to do. It didn't matter. "And I'm not upset about Brayden, or anything, really. I just don't feel like doing anything tonight."

"Okay," he relented with a sigh. My dorm building was a short walk away from the library and we were almost there now.

"You can hang out for awhile," I offered when we reached our destination.

"I've actually got a Skype date with Lissa," he tried to hide the goofy smile that always spread across his face when he talked about his girlfriend. They were currently doing the long distance thing as she was studying abroad in England.

"Ah, well don't let me keep you, then." I teased. "And tell her I said hi."

"Will do," he nodded. "Call me if you change your mind about tonight. I'm on fire-starting duty. Could always use my lab partner to help me out."

"Don't hold your breath," I rolled my eyes. "But have a good time. Don't set anyone on fire."

He laughed, "I'll try."

###

"You know I love you right?" was the first thing my roommate, Julia, said to me as she bounded into our dorm room.

I looked up from my laptop. "What do you want?"

"Ah, you know me so well," she cooed, flouncing over to place an unnecessary kiss on my forehead. "Did I mention, dear Sydney, how pretty you look today?"

"I'm guessing it's a pretty big favor," I sighed, shaking my head at her.

"Before I say anything else I just want you to know that you are the best roommate anyone could ever ask for and my most favorite person ever-"

"Just spit it out!" I laughed, hurtling a nearby pillow at her. Julia and I had been roommates since freshman year. I hadn't known her before then. Since I didn't have any girlfriends to call my own from highschool I'd just had to risk my fate with random selection. And I'd gotten pretty lucky. Julia was awesome (albeit a bit of a handful) and through her I'd come to gain a few more female acquaintances, like her (now our) friend Kristin. Though we certainly weren't as close as say, Christian and I, I did consider her a good friend.

She gave me a pained look, clearly in some sort of emotional turmoil. "I feel like the worst person ever for asking this of you and it's like so short notice and-ugh! You're gonna hate me."

I took a deep breath as her words sunk in. "This is about a boy, isn't it?"

She pouted. "A really cute boy."

My eyes narrowed. "You're about to kick me out of the room, aren't you?"

"I didn't invite him over yet," she spoke very quickly. "I mean, well, I did but I said I'd have to check with my roommate first and it'll just be for a few hours-"

"How many is a few?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Um...that's still...to be determined." She flashed me an apologetic smile. "You can say no." But I knew that by the look on her face that I couldn't.

"I suppose I could call Kristin and see if she doesn't mind an impromptu sleepover," I mused.

"Oh, he won't be staying the night," Julia corrected me, "He's not that cute."

I snorted. "So I just need to make myself scarce for a 'few' hours is what you're saying?"

"I'll text you as soon as he's gone," she added, now resorting to a babyish pleading voice.

"But how late is that going to be?" I couldn't help but wonder.

She frowned. "You're right. I shouldn't have asked. I'm sorry."

"No, no," I told her. "Don't be sorry. I don't want to rain on your cute boy parade, I'm just trying to think of somewhere I can go."

"I heard there are some cool parties happening tonight. Have you heard about the bonfire? I kind of want to go to that one myself. But there's not really a point when I've managed to already skip to the good part." She grinned wickedly.

Ugh. Fate was a cruel mistress, indeed. My face twisted in annoyance.

"What?" Julia frowned. "Too slutty?"

"What?" I snapped my attention to her. "No! No, of course not. It's just...Christian's been trying to talk me into going to that party all day."

"Oh, Christian." Julia sighed dreamily, "He is so-"

"Not available," I shook my head at her. She had a bit of a thing for Christian, or at least, she often took it upon herself to comment about the inappropriate things she'd like to do to him. I could see why. He was quite a handsome guy and he was, well, Christian. I admired his ability to be such a faithful boyfriend when I was certain he had hordes of girls throwing themselves at him.

"You know I'm kidding," she rolled her eyes, but I wasn't so sure. "I think you two are m-f-e-o anyway."

"Do I want to know what that stands for?"

"Meant. For. Each. Other." She punctuated each word with a saucy grin.

"Oh, stop." I scoffed, offended. "We're just friends. You know that."

"You never know what could happen," she singsonged. "This is college after all. People change, feelings change, you could wake up a totally different person tomorrow."

"You know this party's actually starting to look pretty good in comparison to my current location," I deadpanned.

"What's the deal with the party?" She ignored my dig. "Why don't you want to go?"

I gave a her a look and she nodded in understanding.

"Ah, is the douchebag going to be there?"

That was one word for him. I didn't need to answer her, she could already tell by the way my face had transformed. Just the mention of his existence put me on edge.

She shot me a sympathetic look. "Don't let one stupid boy ruin you from having a good time. That party is going to be enormous from what I hear. You probably won't even run into him."

"That's exactly what Christian said." I sighed.

"Ooh," she wiggled her eyebrows. "Maybe he and I are meant for each other."

"Kidding," she added when I didn't reply. "Really. I might be a maneater but I don't snack on other people's food."

I laughed, but secretly I was quite envious of Julia's comfort in her sexuality. She went through boys like tissues. At first it had shocked me, the way she treated sex so casually, but these days I couldn't help but think it was kind of amazing. I'm not saying I wanted to hop from boy to boy every night or anything, but by current standings I had only been with Brayden, and I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like with other boys. I'd briefly fantasized on more than one occasion about running into a cute, smart, friendly stranger on campus and having a no-strings-attached sort of affair. I didn't have half the confidence Julia did, though. I couldn't really imagine going up to a boy at a party and giving him any sort of invitation, sexual or otherwise.

"Why are you sad-facing?" Julia asked, eyebrows furrowed.

"I just...I feel so inept. And inexperienced. I mean you picked up a boy on your way home for God's sake and I can't even...if Brayden hadn't approached me that day in Latin club I wouldn't even have..." I sighed again.

"Okay," Julia said, "That settles it. You are going to this party. And you are going to look super hot. And you are going to at the very least get some tongue-to-tongue action with an impossibly gorgeous guy. So I have predicted," she clapped her hands together, "So it shall be."

I smiled. "I think I'm stuck at the 'going to look super hot' part. Do your cosmic powers include celestial makeovers?"

She groaned loudly. "Oh, as if you even need it. You're totally cute and you don't even try. Imagine how you'd look if you actually let me doll you up."

"I already wear makeup," I reminded her. My routine was pretty basic. I kept it to a bit of eyeliner and mascara, most days. I even busted out a few pats of concealer, here and there, if I had a breakout.

"It's not just about the makeup, it's about the whole ensemble. Putting together the perfect outfit, getting your hair just right, a spritz of of your favorite perfume, that's where the confidence comes from."

"Maybe for you," I said, "But I don't think it will be that simple for me."

"It is that simple," she argued. "Now get over here."

My dark blonde hair now swung down in a messy fishtail braid that Julia insisted had to be strategically placed over my right shoulder. My eyes were lined in black, much thicker than I was used to, and winged at the corners. I'd thought it looked alright until she smudged it out, but she assured me that made me look 'sultry'. She'd put a pinkish tinted chapstick on my lips, saying I probably shouldn't go with a bold lipstick since I was going to be (allegedly) kissing on hot boys all night.

I wore a cream colored gauzy sundress that was mid-thigh in length, dotted with a vintage looking floral pattern. Paired with an acid-washed denim half jacket and a pair of Julia's thigh high black stockings I was awed that I actually seemed to resemble one of the chic, artsy looking girls I often saw around campus. I twirled around in the dress a few times, unable to stop staring at myself in the mirror. Julia was right. Instant confidence.

When I'd managed to tear myself away from...myself, she dutifully ordered me to show her all I had to offer in the shoe department.

"Your old lady shoes actually work in this case," she smiled, grabbing my relatively new pair of brown oxfords and thrusting them toward me. I frowned. They'd go nicely with the dress alone but I feared they'd clash with the jacket and stockings. When I voiced these fears to Julia she simply shook her head at me.

"Just put them on, you'll see."

Afterward, she circled around me, inspecting. "It's...almost perfect." she said, tapping her chin. "But it's missing...something."

"Ah!" she said after a moment, disappearing into our shared closet and coming out with a wide brown belt in her hands. She wrapped it around me and cinched it tight. "High waisted belts are literally made of magic," she informed me. "They elongate your legs, suck in your stomach, and make your boobs look bigger."

Did that mean she thought my stomach needed to be sucked in? Or was that just a general comment for anyone? I didn't worry about this for longer than a few seconds because when I took another look at myself in the mirror, I almost gasped. I didn't understand it, but Julia had been right again. The belt added something to the overall look that hadn't been there before. All the pieces married together in a perfectly stylish little puzzle. Fascinating.

"Thank you for doing this," I told her in earnest. "I know it must be annoying, me being so fashion backward, but I never really had girlfriends growing up, and my older sister's style was...not really in my taste. Plus, she had her own things going on." Not to mention I'd become so stuck under my father's thumb I wouldn't even dream of wearing anything he hadn't explicitly approved of first. I didn't like thinking of my father, and the kind of person I had been when I lived with him, or the kind of life I would have had, had I stayed at home after high school like he'd ordered me to. I quickly banished the thoughts, focusing instead on what sort of life still lay ahead of me.

She shook her head at me. "Please, I live for this."

I smiled. "Well, I appreciate it nonetheless."

My phone started to buzz, rattling against the wood of my desk. I walked over to pick it up and saw Christian's name flashing across the screen.

"Hello?"

"I'm calling in hopes that a miracle has struck and you've changed your mind about tonight," Christian's voice called through the phone. I could hear laughter in the background.

"You are in luck," I told him. "And have impeccable timing. I just finished getting ready."

"Wait, seriously?" Christian sounded strange. "You want to come?"

"Try to contain your excitement," I muttered, a little confused by his reaction.

"Well, I wasn't really expecting you to say yes," he replied. "I...uh...I don't know if you're still going to want to come, but I'm riding with Adrian, so he'd have to come pick you up on the way."

All my bravado deflated in an instant. "I see," I finally answered.

Julia looked at me in concern. I mouthed Adrian's name. My face, I'm sure, conveyed the rest.

Her mouth dropped open. "Don'tyoudarebackoutnownotafterallmyhardwork!" she hissed in a violent rush.

"What was that?" Christian asked. More laughter in the background and some yelling. "Ugh, hold on, let me go outside."

I could just see it now, Adrian pulling up in his shiny silver Porsche (A graduation gift from his parents. Like, his parents actually brought it to our highschool graduation so Adrian and a handful of his groupies could ride off into the sunset together) that he hadn't the slightest idea how to take care of properly (the only time I'd ever heard him talk about it was to complain about how it wasn't the right color), grinning that disgusting grin, making some snide comment about what I was wearing and my night would be irrevocably ruined. I remembered what Julia had said, about not letting him ruin my night, and I wasn't going to. But I was going to do it my way. And my way involved not letting him ruin it by not seeing him at all.

"Sorry about that," Christian said, "The guys have been pregaming."

"Of course they have." I sighed. "You know part of the deal was-"

"I know, I know." Christian said, sounding genuinely guilty. "I guess I didn't really think it through. I'd ask one of the guys to come get you, but Adrian is the only one who hasn't been drinking."

"How ironic," I drawled.

"You'll have me there to bolster," Christian said, "And it's not that long of a car ride. Once we're there we'll ditch these idiots and I'll be your wingman all night."

"I appreciate the offer," I said, "But I think I'll just find my own transportation."

"How are you going to do that?" Christian asked a little too incredulously.

"I do have other friends, you know." I huffed. Not many other friends, but that wasn't the point. Though, aside from Julia, none were really the partying sort. And who knew if they had cars? Maybe he was right. No, I would not be thwarted by my lack of a social circle. "I could always just take the bus."

"No way," Christian's response was immediate.

"Lots of kids take the bus," I argued and couldn't help but laugh. "Don't go dad mode."

"I will go full grandpa mode if I have to," Christian told me, wheezing for good measure. "Getting here is one thing but what about when you're ready to leave? Unless you're down to crash at Kyle's house."

"No," I said quickly, "Definitely not."

"Taking the bus by yourself that late..." Christian trailed off. I understood his concern, but I wasn't afraid of public transportation. Yes, I was well aware of my gender and size, but I'd had self defense classes and I always carried pepper spray. I know that doesn't mean much against possibly armed assailant(s), but like I said, many students used the bus to get to and from parties. I could always just tag along the tail end of a group until I'd made it safely back to my dorm building. I informed Christian of these fair points, but he still was unconvinced.

"Fine," I said to Christian who was still grumbling about drunk boys and serial killers, "I won't take the bus. I'll figure something else out. Okay?"

"Okay," I could hear the relief in his voice. "Or you could always just be practical and let us come get you."

"Not going to happen," I said, "And I am being practical!"

Christian just laughed. "Alright. Whatever you say. We've gotta get going. So I guess I'll see you there?"

"I guess you will."

Christian and I said our goodbyes and he promised he'd text me directions as soon as we hung up. I turned to Julia, sighing.

"Is it really that big of a deal for you to get a ride with Adrian?" she asked.

"Yes," I said adamantly.

Her lips pursed in concern, "You're so not taking the bus."

I was indignant. "I'm stronger than I look, you know."

"I don't doubt it," Julia's expression didn't change. "But as much as I wish we lived in a world where you could safely roam the streets at night, I'm with Christian on this one."

"Well then I guess I'll have to call a taxi," I said, thinking of the next logical solution.

Julia nodded, then turned suddenly, grabbing her bag and fishing out a wad of cash. "Here." She thrust it toward me. "Please accept this generous compensation."

I laughed. "That won't be necessary." I had a considerable little nest egg of money saved up, hard-earned from the summer jobs I'd had in the past two years.

She shrugged. "Well, you are doing this for me, after all."

"No," I said, surprising myself by how much I actually meant it. "I'm doing it for me."

###

"There she is!" Christian enveloped me in a crushing hug when I found him, tending to the massive fire he was apparently in charge of. I could tell he was already a little tipsy. I smiled.

"Here I am."

"Look at you," he said, pulling back to survey me from head to toe.

"Don't start," I warned him.

"Wasn't gonna," he grinned. "But you look adorable."

I shrugged. I looked around at all the people milling about. This party seemed to be going strong, but so far I didn't see what was so different about it from any of the other parties I went to. Maybe I truly didn't understand how to let loose and have a good time. Maybe there was something missing from me that everyone else my age had. Maybe I was just boring. I shook off this depressing notion and gazed back at the fire. "Impressive."

"Thank you," Christian tipped his head forward. "Do you want something to drink?"

"Not just yet," I said without even thinking. Then I frowned. "Actually, yes."

"Cool," Christian took my arm, leading me away from the fire and into the house.

"What do you want? " He asked once we were inside.

"What do you have?"

"There's mostly beer."

I scrunched up my nose. "Yuck."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he smirked. "I bet I could probably get my hands on a Mike's Hard. That sound good?"

"Am I supposed to know what that means?" I didn't know who Mike was or what about him was hard, but it didn't sound very appetizing.

Christian laughed. "It's like alcoholic lemonade basically. It's sweet, you can hardly taste the alcohol in it."

I mulled this over. "How much sugar does it have in it?"

He groaned. "Please. Wait here. I'm getting you one."

I tried not to look awkward and out of place as Christian shouldered through the mass of people and out of sight. I looked around to see if there was anyone I knew nearby. I saw one or two familiar faces and smiled preemptively just in case our gazes caught. I didn't see Adrian anywhere, which was good. Knowing him he was probably already making use of one of the bedrooms, or couches, or closets. Adrian was, of course, quite popular with women. I, for one, didn't understand it. I mean, sure he was incredibly handsome. And intelligent, I guess. In his own way. He could charm his way in and out of anything, that was for sure. And I guess to some people, his sense of humor was endearing. But not to me.

"Hey," Christian appeared at my side, breaking me from my thoughts. He handed me a bottle. "Bottoms up."

I took a small, experimental sip. Sour sweet liquid washed over my tastebuds, making me cringe. I found that most alcoholic beverages tasted the same to me, no matter what flavoring they were masked with, but this honestly wasn't as bad as I had been expecting. I took a larger sip. Ugh. Horribly sweet. But at least I couldn't taste the alcohol.

"Well?" Christian raised his eyebrows.

"Well," I licked my lips. "I don't hate it."

He laughed. "That's the most positive reaction I think I've ever heard from you when it comes to drinks, so I'm going to take this as a win."

I took another sip, growing used to the taste. "So how's Lissa?" I asked.

Christian frowned."She's good. A little swamped with school stuff, so we didn't get to talk to for too long but..." he shrugged.

"Aw," I gave him a one armed squeeze. "I'm sorry I brought it up."

"It's all good," he assured me with a smile, "She'll be back next summer and I think I'm going to try to visit her over winter break, so, you know."

"Oh, well that's good," I said, trying to ignore the weird pang that went through me. That meant I'd be spending Christmas alone. Everyone I knew at school went home to their families. I had no family to go home to. Well, I still had them. They were there. But I wasn't to darken my father's doorstep ever again, not after I'd defied him like this. Last year had been surprisingly okay. I mean, I had Christian with me. And my mom had sent me a few things in secret, not that I cared about presents, but just knowing she still cared was the best thing I could have asked for.

"So," Christian said, eager to change the subject, "See any potential love interests?"

I scoffed. "You and Julia, I swear. You two should hang out and gossip about my lack of a love life and brainstorm how you're going to get me laid by next week."

"Well two heads are better than one," Christian grinned. "But seriously. I just want you to have fun. You're in college. Go, make out with some random dudes. Or chicks. Or both at the same time. If that's what you want to do. If you just want to hang out, help me tend the fire, then that's cool too. Just please don't spend the entire night with your back against the wall silently judging everyone who walks past you."

"I'm not judging!" I exclaimed, offended. "I don't judge!"

"I know that, but people tend to take standing off to the side by yourself as, you know, standoffish," Christian shrugged with a sardonic grin. "People are dumb."

"And I'm the one who needs to stop judging?" I scoffed, not without affection. "Go off and tend your precious fire," I told him, "I'll...mingle."

He hesitated. "You sure you'll be alright without me?"

"I'm not a piece of fine china, you know. I'm not going to break if someone touches me." I appreciated his protectiveness but it made me wonder if that's truly the vibe I gave off to everyone, that I was some inaccessible pure soul that shouldn't be sullied. I may have seen myself as that way once upon a time, but certainly not anymore. Maybe a reinvention, of sorts, was in order.

"By the time you come back I'll be the life of the party, which I am perfectly capable of being." I took a long swig of my drink.

"I'll be looking forward to that," Christian nudged me, "If you need me, you know where to find me."

I smiled in response, watching his retreating figure for a moment before turning back to see if I could spot anyone I recognized and get the whole becoming the life of the party thing going. I nursed my drink slowly, finding the taste more and more enjoyable. After a few minutes of scanning the area hopelessly for anyone I knew, I started to wander. This house was obnoxiously large, yet it was still somehow jam packed with people. It seemed odd to just go up to a complete stranger and start talking, but how else was I supposed to meet anyone new? What did people do in these situations? Everyone around me seemed so comfortable. Smiling, laughing, talking. They made it look so easy, but I was at a loss. Was there something specific I was supposed to open with? I racked my brain for examples from any teen-centric movies I'd seen recently and came up empty. I sighed, taking a long sip of my drink. And I continued to sip that drink until I brought it to my lips and found there was nothing left. I frowned. I wasn't sure if the effects of the alcohol were hitting me yet. Maybe I needed another drink. I looked around to see how I'd go about getting one when I didn't have Christian around to wait on me. I wondered if I should just go out and find him, have a quiet night by the fire, et cetera. But I really did want to try to break out of my shell, at least a little bit.

Suddenly I felt someone grab my arm and I jerked to attention. A girl with wild red hair had me in her grasp. "Ahh! Spencer, look!" she yelled to her right. "Belt!"

A tall, slender dark skinned girl with straight black hair to her waist came forward, giggling. "We got a belt!" She beamed, slinging her arm around me.

"Um..." I blinked, looking back and forth between the girls. "What?"

"We're playing!" The red head screeched in my ear, "A game where...you have like a word, right? Like an article of clothing or something someone would like...have on them? And you have to find the first person who has that thing. And we got Belt. And you have a belt!"

"You have a belt!" The girl the redhead had called Spencer cheered, pumping one fist in the air. "Hey," she cocked her head to the side. "You're really pretty."

"Oh," I blushed through my confusion. "Um, thanks."

"You can't have this one, horndog," the redhead pulled me closer to her. "She's for the closet."

"The closet?" I raised my eyebrows. What was happening?

"You go to the closet because you've got a belt." The redhead explained as she started tugging me along. "And you go in and you get Seven Minutes in Heaven with your prince, so to speak. Wait." She stopped in her tracks. "Are you into boys?"

"I-um...well, yes." I sputtered.

"Okay good," she sighed and continued to drag me as Spencer trotted along beside us.

"Who's my prince?" I asked, still trying to piece together what exactly was going on.

The redhead grinned wickedly at me. "We picked you a hot one. He was actually the second guy we saw with a belt. But the first one was, like, super gross."

"Disgusting," Spencer agreed.

We stopped again and I saw that we'd reached a large white door that a small group of people were gathered around, drinking and snickering among themselves. I supposed this was the aforementioned closet.

"Here," Spencer handed me a shot glass filled with dark red liquid. "Drink this."

"What is this?" I eyed the beverage warily.

Spencer pointed to the girl who still had a grip on my arm. "A redheaded slut."

"Out and proud," her friend shot back with a wink.

I smiled. I liked these girls.

"Um..." I looked back down at the drink. "Why do I have to drink this?"

"Because it's the rules!" The redhead commanded. "Hurry up now, your prince is waiting!"

"Oh, shut up Madison!" Spencer snapped. She put her hand on my shoulder. "Hey. You seem kind of freaked. You don't have to do this. It's just a stupid game."

I was sort of freaked. Uncomfortable, really. I felt out of my element and I didn't particularly like that. And I was about to hand her the glass and mumble an excuse before running off to find Christian and forget this whole seven minutes belt prince nonsense, but when I turned and looked at Spencer, the look in her eyes froze me in place. It was that motherly, concerned, poor little girl lost look. And wasn't that exactly what I was trying to prove I wasn't? I let out a hard breath and shook my head. "No," I brought the drink to my lips. "I'm good." I shut my eyes tight and knocked the glass back into my mouth. It tasted like sugary cough medicine to me. I screwed up my face, forcing myself to swallow. When I opened my eyes, everyone hollered their approval. Spencer took the empty glass from my hands.

"Atta girl," Madison cooed, opening up the closet door and shoving me inside. "Now go get him."

I stumbled into the darkness, the sting of the alcohol still burning my tongue. The closet light wasn't on, and my surroundings were pitch black. Was this part of the 'game'? What had I gotten myself into? I took a few steps forward, my hands out in front of me, and collided softly against a hard body.

I gasped in surprise. "Sorry," I whispered.

A low, masculine laugh cut through the darkness. I felt hands around my waist. Warm, strong hands. I was suddenly dizzy. A buzz spread through me. The hands traveled up my body shamelessly, one wound around the back of my neck and pulled me forward. Lips were on mine. Kissing. I was being kissed. I tensed up in shock. Embarrassed, for some reason. The lips continued to kiss me. Slowly, softly. And then I thought, well I better start kissing back. So I did.

It was a surreal experience, being kissed in the dark by a stranger like this. But this boy, whoever he was...was so...warm. His lips were strong and sweet against mine. The bitter taste of alcohol now a long forgotten memory. My body finally reacted, relaxing against his. My hands reached out and landed on his shoulders, I slid one up to the back of his neck, and up into his hair. I tugged on it softly and he kissed me harder, pressing my back against the wall, pressing his body into mine. His hands were on my waist again. His thumbs stroked against me. Sparks sizzled where he touched. His lips moved against mine so effortlessly. He was obviously good at this. I briefly worried if my inexperience was showing. But then he moved his lips from my mouth to my neck and I was more worried about the embarrassingly loud gasp that came out of me. My body reacted instinctively, pressing up against his. My hands were clutching at his back, his hands were traveling down from my waist, bunching up the skirt of my dress so he could touch my bare thighs. When his fingertips grazed against my skin, I was lost. I felt...drunk, for lack of a better word. I hadn't had much to drink, but the way this boy was touching me, kissing me...made my head swim and my body hum with electricity. He kissed my neck hard, sucking on the tender skin there, and I moaned softly. He kissed his way back up to my mouth, kissing me rougher than before. I matched his intensity eagerly, opening my mouth wide so his tongue could slide in. A thrill shot down my spine. I always found tongue kissing so sloppy and gross, but the way he was doing it was...good. I liked the way he tasted. I let my tongue slide into his mouth, too. God, it felt so good. Kissing him. And kissing him. I never knew kissing could feel so...exhilarating. It had never been like this with Brayden. Kissing always felt something we just did...because that's what we were supposed to be doing. A chore, really. Something I was glad to be down with once we'd stopped. But the way this boy was kissing me...I never wanted to stop. When his mouth finally broke slightly from mine, I tugged on his bottom lip with my teeth, pulling him back to me. He groaned. A low, sexy sound, and gripped my hips tightly, pressing our bodies together. I let my body grind against his as we kissed. My hands moved from his back to his shoulders, down his chest, tugging at the silky material of his shirt. One of his hands slid between my legs. My breath hitched when I felt his fingertips against the material of my underwear.

It occurred to me, suddenly, that this boy might want to do more than just kiss me. It occurred to me a moment later that I might want to do more than just kiss him. It was crazy, really. This boy was a complete stranger. I didn't know anything about him. He could be an idiot. He could be boring. He could be an awful person. He could be not at all my type. All I knew about him was that his kisses were driving me wild. And that I wanted him to touch me. As if he'd read my thoughts, his hand dipped underneath the waistband of my underwear, his fingers flush against my bare, slick skin. I tugged on the front of his shirt hard, a few top buttons coming undone. I slid my hand underneath so I could stroke his bare chest. It was a bit of an awkward angle, but I just wanted to touch him. I wanted to feel his skin on my skin. I'd never felt this sort of blind rush of desire before. I just wanted him. It was overwhelming me.

He circled his finger around me, making me whimper into his mouth. I continued to tug at his shirt until it was completely open and I had full access to his bare chest and stomach, which I slid my hands up and down shamelessly. He was nicely built. Long, lean muscles. I felt anxious, restless in my own skin. I wanted his hands, his lips all over me and it wasn't happening fast enough. I pressed myself into his touch, kissing him hard. His fingers worked steadily against me, moving harder and faster, hurtling me over the edge. It felt so, so good. I breathed hard into his mouth while our kisses turned rough and desperate. When he kissed down to my neck again I thought I made pass out from sheer pleasure. I turned my head and buried my face into his hair. He smelled so good. A combination of stout, heady cologne...and...sea-salt. I slid my hand down the front of his pants. He was wearing a belt, and they were tightly fitted to his body, so I didn't get very far. But I could tell he was hard. Another thrill of desire rattled through me. His breathing had turned hard and shallow, he pulled back from my neck and kissed my mouth softly, deeply. He slid his fingers up and down me slowly, teasing. Our heads knocked together and we simply breathed against each another for a few moments.

Finally, he said, "Do you want to take this upstairs?"

My entire body turned to ice.

No.

No.

No.

This could not be real.

That voice.

It was low, and hoarse, and breathless.

But I knew that voice.

No. Oh my God. No.

I shoved him away in horror, as hard as I physically could.

"Ah, fuck!" he hissed, stumbling over something in the dark. He scoffed, his voice holding a note of amusement, "I guess not, then."

My hands were shaking. The light. I had to find the light. I needed the light. I fumbled in the dark room, my hands scouring the walls for the switch. Finally, finally, my fingers bumped up against a hard protrusion in the wall and I flicked it upwards. Light flooded the dark room. I was wrong. I had to be wrong. This could not be happening.

"Damn," There was that voice again, dripping with that sickly ever-present smarm. "Was it something I said?"

I spun around, still high on shock and adrenaline, and what I saw turned my stomach inside out. Standing in front of me, white button down shirt ripped open, obscenely messy brown hair sticking up at all angles, hands on his hips and eyebrows raised, emerald green eyes staring wide into mine...was Adrian Ivashkov.

I screamed.

a/n: i know this was mostly backstory and character work but trust me the smut is coming, it always does. ;)