No texts.

No calls.

That one time when she happened to bump into him at the mall? He was diving into the nearest store before she could even work out where he'd gone.

Was Jeff Winger being a lowlife jackass? Kind of. But she was nineteen.

It had been a mistake; they'd both said as much the following day as she was leaving his apartment - he'd just been caught up in the whole Britta/Slater love triangle, and she was struggling to deal with almost going to Delaware.

He'd never meant to sleep with Annie Edison.

May 2010

They pulled apart, and a disbelieving laugh tumbled from her lips. The noise Jeff made was a low rumbling chuckle; it came from the back of his throat, and didn't really suggest he was amused at all. Turned on? Maybe a little. But amused? No. Definitely not.

But in that moment, his brain wasn't doing the sensible thing; it wasn't screaming 'she's nineteen, you creep!' at him because it was too distracted by Annie's doe eyes and the smell of Annie's strawberry shampoo and Annie's boobs and all things Annie Edison.

So, technically, it was all Annie's damn fault.

His brain didn't tell him it was wrong when he suggested they take things to a more private place (Kissing in the parking lot when the rest of the student body was still inside the building? Not a smart move).

His brain didn't tell him it was wrong when he pulled the Lexus into the parking lot of his apartment complex and he opened the door for her.

His brain didn't tell him it was wrong when he offered her a drink - and then another, and then another.

His brain didn't tell him it was wrong when her dress fell to his bedroom floor and his breath caught in the back of his throat.

And his brain didn't fucking tell him it was wrong when she was screaming his name and begging for more.

No, the sheer 'wrongness' of the situation came the morning after.

When he woke up he was in a haze; his eyes didn't open all the way, and his mind wasn't fully adjusted to actually being awake yet. He was vaguely aware of a body snuggled against him, and he could feel a nose gently nuzzling into his abs. It was nice. Jeff Winger didn't do cuddling; he didn't do mornings after, and he didn't do making girls breakfast - on any normal day, if he woke up with a woman still in his bed, he would have slipped out quietly, and hid in the bathroom until he was sure she'd left of her own accord. But something made him pull the tiny body in tighter, made him sniff her hair and smile contently.

There was something so perfect about waking up next to - fuck.

Annie.

Fucking Annie.

Shirley was going to kick his ass. And he didn't even want to imagine Britta's reaction to this (Hadn't she said that she loved him like yesterday? Shit). Annie's parents were probably going to call up some TV show or website or something and have him labelled as a creepy perv. Everyone at Greendale was going to look at him differently and...Oh God, would he even be able to keep going there? He was only at Greendale in the first place to get the credits he needed to return to the firm. How bad was it going to look if he couldn't even complete a few years at a fucking community college? Shit.

He untangled himself from the sleeping brunette, silently cursing as he prayed she wouldn't stir from her sleep. She looked peaceful; innocent even, and it only made Jeff feel more guilty.

If he'd banged a nineteen year old on a regular night, maybe he wouldn't have felt so bad about it; there was no law against it, and if he could bag someone 12 years his junior he definitely had many good years left in him.

But Annie? Fuck, well, she was Annie. Sweet, innocent Disney-faced Annie. Sure, she could be devious, and her lips seemed to have some freaking power over him, but she was still Annie Edison. Nineteen year old Annie. A child. Fuck.

Coffee. He needed coffee. Hell, Annie probably needed coffee too, but that was fine right? She'd probably be embarrassed about this whole thing; she'd be too awkward to talk about any of it and he could just act like nothing had happened. It was perfect, the plan was foolproof, there was no way -

She was standing in his living room, hair tousled, wearing his shirt (And nothing else, if he had to guess), beaming at him like he wasn't a creepy, twisted perv who would be beaten and kicked out of Greendale if he ever so much as looked at her again.

"Hey!"

She looked so happy. Why did she look so happy? She had to know as well as he did that this was all totally wrong, and as soon as she realised she was going to break down and suddenly...Kiss him? Jeff pulled back in surprise as her lips briefly pressed against his, but by the time he had a chance to react in any way at all, she was already busying herself making two cups of coffee.

"Ummm."

For what felt like the first time in his life, words failed Jeff Winger and he just stared at the woman before him. No no no, not woman. Child. Definitely a child - that was what made all this so terrible, after all.

"Annie, maybe we should talk about all this. What happened last night-"

Oh God was she blushing? Why did she have to look so fucking happy about all of this?

Jeff Winger didn't want to have to play the jerk; he didn't want to break yet another heart (He figured he'd kind of already broken two the previous day, what with walking out after having not one, but two women confess their love to him) but apparently she'd left him no choice.

Quick and painless, right? Like a bandaid. He wasn't quite sure if the same thing applied to lovestruck nineteen year olds, but he figured it was worth a shot.

And if the worst came to the worst...Well, he'd figure something out.

The wounds were still fresh, as far as Annie was concerned.

The conversation played itself over and over again in her head, even a few weeks on. It was like there was no escaping it and no avoiding it and no way of pretending like it never happened.

"It was a mistake, Annie."

"R-Right. Duh doi. I'm not a kid, Jeff. It was...It was just sex. No big deal, right?"

She'd been lying through her teeth, and she figured he'd realise, figured he'd see right through her and tell her that he was a jerk and that she was completely wrong and hey why didn't they give it a shot?

But instead he'd just sighed in relief and suggested that maybe she head home and get cleaned up.

And naturally Annie had cried in the car on the way home, and then in the shower, and then as she sat on her couch watching Top Model reruns while brutally attacking a tub of Ben and Jerry's.

Jeff Winger was the first person she'd slept with since her high school boyfriend; the only person she'd slept with and thought it might actually mean something (Considering her high school boyfriend had dumped her two days after they'd slept together, and come out of the closet less than a week later...She'd never really seen that going anywhere), but as per usual he was being a shallow jackass.

But she wasn't going to call him, no sir. She wasn't going to send him any a single text or email or Facebook message or whatever the Hell else he'd expect from her. She would make this a clean break, and when she saw him in September everything would be totally fine and he'd think she'd completely moved on from him and he'd be destroyed and then he would come running to her. It was a foolproof plan. Wasn't it?

It was three weeks before he had to start ignoring her calls, deleting her texts and avoiding her in public (Why did Greendale have to be so God damn small, damn it).

Jeff honestly didn't know what to say to her, and he figured it would be a lot easier to just see her again with the rest of the group after the summer was over. There'd be less pain within him her by then, and with the full group around there'd be a lot less reason to be awkward.

If she'd managed to go three weeks without contacting him, he was sure she could wait another nine.

So, it was settled. No more Annie until the first day of the new semester. It was the perfect plan, he'd be out of her system by then...And she'd be out of his.

She hadn't planned on contacting him. She'd vowed to herself that she'd wait until the first day of the new semester by which point he'd be so desperate to see her, he'd probably take her to a supply closet to make out with her or something.

But then the little blue plus symbol had appeared on the piece of plastic in her hands and Annie knew she was well and truly fucked.

Talking to Jeff was pretty much vital by this point...So why wouldn't he answer his freaking phone?