Not for the first time, Ron Stoppable wished he was somewhere else than the flat that he shared with two of his catering co-students at Middleton Community College. Jon and Steve were both out – they shared afternoon sessions on Asian cooking, an option that Ron had chosen to pass on, preferring classic French cuisine. He switched off the game console that he had been using to occupy himself for the last 45 minutes. It seemed as though the entire accommodation block was out that afternoon as he could not hear any of the normal shouts and bumps that accompanied college life, despite the wafer-thin walls. Maybe it was because term was due to end the following week, and some students had already left.

He was someone who needed company, and he found the silence oppressive. It reminded him yet again of the consequence of his failing to get the B average at high school that would have secured him a place at Go City Catering College where he could have joined his girlfriend who was enrolled at the neighbouring University. Ron turned to his desk and stared at the photo of the two of them, taken at graduation, casting his mind back.

She was sitting in his parents' living room when he opened his results only to find that he was mere points below the required standard for Go City. She of course had sailed through with a straight A average. She had seen the despondent look on his face and walked over to him, hugging him tight. "It's not so bad, Ron." she urged. "MCC is a great place to learn cookery. And I'll only be a few hundred miles away." She saw the panic on his face. "Hey, we can see each other every weekend."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course, Ron. We can get through this. You know how I feel about you." She smiled at him, ever the optimist. "We've been together ten months now and I'm not going to let a small thing like this get in the way of us."

A small thing. It felt like a very big thing that day. And the next. And the one after that. Ron Stoppable was not the most confident of young men. He still marvelled at the fact that they had hooked up at all. She, the beautiful, talented cheerleader. He the awkward goofball at the bottom of the "food chain", that scourge of high school life for those who were different in any way. And Ron was certainly that. "Never be normal" he had proudly told her when she first asked him about his thoughts on life. That philosophy had sustained him from his Pre-K days to last summer's graduation. It had succoured him as he watched her throw herself at golden boy Josh Mankey, feigning indifference despite his inner pain. And he would never forget the glorious day when, a couple of weeks after she and Monkey Boy broke up, he finally overcame his inner demons to reveal to her his feelings, and to find that they were reciprocated, indeed that she had felt that way about him for a long time.

But now he just wanted to be normal. He wanted to have a normal relationship with a girlfriend who he could see regularly. Their best intentions – to get together every weekend – had been thwarted by the sheer number of courses that she was taking.

The first time she called to cancel her visit left them both in tears. "Ronnie I am so sorry. " She had apologised. "I can't get away this weekend. I've just been given a stupid essay to do by Monday." She sounded stricken. He had blinked the wetness away from his eyes. God, how he missed her. He hadn't seen her for almost two weeks.

"Please don't be sad" he had pleaded, though his own voice was unsteady. "Let me come to you next weekend. My schedule is lighter than yours."

"Oh yes, please do that" she brightened up. "Oh …" she fell silent.

"What is it?" with trepidation.

"I forgot – we've got a field trip next weekend." Her voice was low. "Please don't hate me."

"Of course I don't hate you." he said sharply. He sighed. "Sorry, I'm just upset that we can't see each other for ages."

"I miss you so much" she sniffed. "I promise that I will come in a fortnight, whatever happens."

And he had to be content with that. They spoke for a few more minutes, reassuring each other of their feelings and reluctant to lose the comfort of each other's voices.

He hated ending the call almost as much as he hated that she couldn't come.

And since then they had only managed a couple of visits a month. Even these were frequently unsatisfying when she had to bring a term paper with her. He would watch her as she sat at his desk on Sunday morning, her face screwed up in concentration as she focused on trying to achieve the highest possible score - she had always been a perfectionist. He loved to observe her when she was unaware that he was watching, her hand running through her hair as she pondered the next sentence. And the curve of her neck as she tilted her head to one side. But much as he loved to watch her, he begrudged the time they didn't have together. And when the time inevitably came for her to return to Go City, he held her close, not wanting to let her go, and his heart ached as he contemplated another fortnight without her.

The last month had been particularly bad. She had only managed a single visit three weeks ago. And she seemed distracted. No term paper to complete this time, but he caught her staring into space.

"What's the matter, love?" he had asked. She turned to him quickly, a blank look on her face.

"Nothing, Ron. No, not nothing. I'm worrying about the end-of-term exams," she confessed.

"You worried about exams? You're going to sail through them!" He could not hide his surprise.

"Yes … it's just that I will have to revise most weekends between now and the end of term" she responded guiltily.

He looked at her, seeing her discomfort. I know she worries about study, but this seems a bit over the top. But who I am to judge – I'm hardly academic material.

"Of course. I'm going to miss you." Damn, no need to make her feel worse that she is already feeling. Stoppable, you are such an idiot sometimes.

"What I mean is, we'll speak over the phone and end of term will be on us before we know it."

She smiled sweetly at him. "I'm sure you'll have lots of study to do yourself too."

Well, the catering course isn't easy but there's never weekend work.

"I'll be fine. Don't worry about me. I've got the latest instalment of Zombie Mayhem to keep me busy."

He grinned at her but he felt flat. It was six weeks to the end of term.

The freckled blond was brought out of his reverie by the sound of something dropping through the letterbox and falling onto the mat of the flat. Turning away from the photo he walked to the front door and picked up a lavender envelope, the hand-written "Ron" on the front instantly recognisable as her hand-writing. He flung open the front door to see a student from the adjacent flat walking away down the corridor. "Did you just deliver this letter?" he called.

The boy turned. "Yes, I found it in your pigeonhole. Figured you'd probably want to see it. It's from your hot girlfriend isn't it?"

"Okay, thanks". Ron looked at the envelope. No stamp. Had she been on campus this weekend? And not come to see him? This made little sense.

Walking back into the room he closed the door and stared at the envelope. Something stopped him from opening it. A sense of foreboding. It's too quiet around here – it's making me stir-crazy.

He tore open the envelope and pulled out a letter. He opened it and started reading.

Dear Ron

This is the hardest letter I have ever had to write. I've found not seeing you so much harder than I thought. I've been so lonely, especially at the weekends.

Something's happened that I really hadn't intended. Several weeks ago I bumped into Josh Mankey – did I tell you he's a student here too? Josh was, well, someone to turn to when I was so down. He was so kind and understanding. I truly didn't mean for anything to happen but – I am so sorry – we're back together.

He stopped reading and let the letter slip to the floor from his shaking fingers as a wave of pain rolled over him. She promised we were going to get through this! He felt as if he had been punched in the stomach, and collapsed into a chair, tears coming freely.

The insistent sound of the doorbell finally pierced his misery. He looked up, eyes red with grief. One of his room-mates had forgotten their key again. He wanted to ignore the door but a sense of responsibility forced him to his feet.

"Hi Ron, I was just passing so I thought I'd come by and say hell …" the girl's voice tailed off as she took note of Ron's distraught appearance. "What's happened, what's wrong Ron?" she asked in concern.

In answer he pointed to the floor. She followed his direction and walked over to the desk, bending to pick up the dropped letter. She read it, her face paling, until she got to the end. She put the letter down and ran to Ron, flinging her arms around him. "Oh Ron, I am so sorry. You two were made for each other. And with Josh …". She hugged him closer. "Come with me – you need to get out of here."

The auburn-haired girl took him by the arm and led him out of the flat. Silence returned to the room. Only the discarded letter remained.

I want you to know that you were very important to me, and you made me so happy. I really didn't mean to hurt you, and I know that you will hate me now. I wish we could remain friends but I know how you felt about Josh so perhaps it's best if we keep our distance for now.

Tara