Two weeks into the semester, Marinette still isn't accustomed to her college schedule. This makes for hectic mornings.

"Can-you-fix-my-tea-for-me-while-I-shower-thanks-I-love-you!" she yells as she runs into their shared bathroom.

"Do you really need to shower before ceramics?" Alya called back. "You're just going to get dirty again!"

"I can't just go to class with greasy hair!" The running water muffles whatever else she has to say. Alya rolls her eyes. You give Marinette one class with her crush, and she panics every morning. Like his opinion of her would change if she showed up to an eight-a.m. class with greasy hair.

Rinsing out one of the mugs left in the sink, Alya fills it with water and heats it in the microwave. Neither of them like to make tea this way ("It just feels wrong," Marinette frequently complains), but the guesthouse has no stove, and so they are forced to make do.

The 'guesthouse' they share could better be described as a glorified dorm room, but Alya prefers to think of it as cozy, rather than cramped. There are only one large room and the bathroom, but the girls made it work. When they moved in, Alya considered it a challenge for her developing skills as an interior designer, and anyone who saw it had to admit that she had done an impressive job. There are two of everything: twin beds, desks, dressers, standing mirrors, couches, Marinette's mannequins, and the girls' easels. Under Alya's direction, the space appears bright, crisp, and open…

Or, at least, it could, if Marinette ever made her bed, or left her books on her desk instead of littered around her couch. Her assortment of teas complicates the small countertop, and her and Alya's myriad mugs fill the sink. Alya, however, is generally unbothered by the mess, feeling that the disorder brings a completeness to the space she designed.

Small or not, Tanya lets them use the house for free, and so the girls are more than content. They stayed in the dorms their first year, but the rooms were tiny and the halls were always noisy. Marinette made a good impression on her supervisor, Tanya, at the library, and the sweet-as-honey middle-aged librarian offered to let the girls stay in her guesthouse the next year, as long as they behaved themselves, didn't create too much noise, and ate dinner with her a few nights every week. Marinette and Alya eagerly accepted.

As Alya sips the coffee she brewed earlier that morning, she enjoys the show of Marinette darting out of the bathroom and attempting to simultaneously get dressed, fix her makeup, and pack her backpack. At the end of the debacle, the girls hurry out of the house and across the lawn—still green even in January—to Alya's car, Marinette shuffling at full speed, trying not to spill her tea.

Every morning is an adventure.

After much practice, Marinette has become an expert at not spilling hot drinks while Alya speeds the little red Toyota Yaris around the winding mountain roads. They live about thirty minutes from the school (a twenty-minute drive for Alya), and Marinette spends her time alternating between DJ-ing and fixing her mascara.

They rush into the ceramics lab only five minutes late, which Marinette considers to be ten minutes early, on account of Professor Elizabeth Simon's ("Ellie" carved elegantly into the base of all of her pieces) habit of never coming in before 8:15. Today is no unlucky exception, and they are both able to set up their wheels before she comes in.

"Someone's early," Adrien teases from his spot next to Marinette.

She pouts at him. "It's not like I didn't try!" she complains. "If people were meant to wake up before seven, the sun would come up sooner."

He laughs. "That may be true for birds," he admits, "but people have alarm clocks."

"Yeah, yeah, Mr. I-wake-up-at-five-a.m.-every-morning-and-accomplish-things. We can't all be superheroes."

"Even if you can't be Superman, you can always be my Lois Lane…"

"Yeah, right." Marinette snorts. "I think I'd rather be—" She stops midsentence as he walks in the door, almost fifteen minutes late, and, head down, hands in his pockets, slouches his way across the room to set up his wheel. Marinette watches, frozen, heart speeding up just by being in the same room as him.

He pulls back his shoulder-length red hair into a ponytail, as usual, showing off the hoops lining the cartilage of his ear. Marinette's lips part in awe as he yawns and his elegant hand rises to cover his mouth. His fingers themselves are works of art, created to create.

Adrien rolls his eyes beside her. Does every class period have to be like this? If it didn't sting so much to be ignored by her, it would be annoying.

"You'll catch flies," he grumbles.

Marinette jumps. "Did you say something?"

Before Adrien has time to snap out something clever, the professor walks in. Adrien glances at his phone: 8:19.

"Glad to see you're all set up. Let's get right to it, then, shall we? It looks like…" She glances at the clipboard left on one of the tables from the last class period. "Only Adrien, Corinne, Nathanael, and Micah have finished their second forms. That's fine, you guys still have lots of time. Still, I'll go ahead and demo the third form for their sake, so if everyone wants to make themselves comfortable…"

Marinette isn't surprised that Adrien finished his second form early; he is studying 3D Art, after all. This is a beginner's ceramics class, but Adrien's hands are used to this kind of work. She is impressed by Nathanael, though. From what she's seen, there isn't anything he isn't good at. Alya finds it annoying, but Marinette thinks he's amazing.

Marinette herself is not necessarily taking to the class. It seems like the more she focuses, the worse her hands are. Because she's so used to sewing, she thought she would be fine with something requiring refined hand motions, but the motions are entirely different and she is finding that her lack of upper-body strength is impacting her ability to control the clay. Truth be told, she is only taking the class because so many of her friends are in it: Alya, Adrien, Nino, Nathanael, and even Chloe, although Marinette suspects Chloe is only here because Adrien is. Marinette thought it would be fun for the whole gang to take one of their electives together, even if that elective wouldn't have been her first choice.

It would benefit her to watch the teacher, but instead she watches Nathanael, the way his forehead creases as he focuses on her hands. He nods to himself, taking careful note of every motion. With the serious way he focuses, it's easy to tell how important this is to him. Sighing, Marinette confirms to herself that he is indeed the epitome of an artist, throwing all of his emotions into his work to create something stunning and emotive.

Marinette isn't the only one ignoring the teacher. While Adrien nods along with the demonstration, Chloe can't hold back a proud smile watching him. He's so focused, even though his hands will easily master whatever they attempt. She's always admired the way his hands could create things that were both beautiful and intense. Although this is his first time studying pottery, she's watched him develop a distinct painting style over the years, and he even got into wood-working in high school. She's always been able to tell that his hands were made for movement. He usually comes across as laid-back and reposed, but when she's watched him paint, his movements, still controlled, are fierce and emotional.

She's always been by his side, so she knows that he feels he can only express himself through art. Although he's never talked much about his emotions, she can usually tell how he's feeling. They've been together since birth, after all—born in the same year to two mothers who were best friends. In high school, after the death of Adrien's mom, they grew even closer. At that time, she watched him draw back into himself, and although it hurt her to see him hurt so much, she stood by him and supported him through everything. And she's still here.

She doesn't have a passion for art, but she doesn't have a passion for much else, either, so she decided to double-major in business and fashion design. This way, she can study something she enjoys (fashion), have electives in common with Adrien, and also come away with a degree that will help her after she graduates. Besides, art and business are complimentary. Her dad didn't necessarily like the decision—especially not that she wanted to go to such a small school—but the school, though small, was prestigious, and once Chloe made up her mind, it was better to accommodate her. Besides, if her degree doesn't get her any opportunities in the real world, her daddy's name certainly will.

When their teacher finishes her demo, the students return to their wheels and get to work.

Nino glances at Alya's wheel—next to his—and notes with displeasure the smoothness of her motions. He takes more care with his own, not wanting them to look rough by comparison. They aren't in the same major, so they don't have many classes together, but when they do, a competition always arises. So far, the two are neck and neck, completing each form within the same class period. Even if he can't pull ahead, he is determined not to fall behind. He doesn't mind competing with her: they both produce excellent work in their shared classes because of it, and there is an unspoken but mutual appreciation of each other's art.

"How are you other classes coming?" Nino asks while they worked.

"Meh," Alya answers absently. Neither looks up from their wheel. "Sewing is kind of rough, but Marinette's been helping me with it. Residential Interior Design is interesting, though. It won't get really hard for another month, so right now I'm just along for the ride. What about you?"

"My actual graphic design classes are great. It's the extra stuff they make us take that's getting to me."

"Which extra are you taking this semester?"

"Business 101." Unable to roll his eyes, he sneers. Alya, of course, does not see his expression. "It just seems so extra."

"Yeah, Marinette's been struggling with that one, too. I'm not taking it until next year."

"Lucky. I'm having to get help from Chloe."

Alya cringes. "I am so sorry."

"She's not that bad." He shrugs, looking across the room to be sure Chloe can't hear them. He's fairly positive that she can't, but lowers his voice anyway. "I mean, she can be kind of obnoxious, and asking her for help was totally humiliating, but she's the only reason I'm not failing yet, so I can't complain. I'm just glad she's willing to help me."

"Where do you study?" Alya asks.

"Uh, at the house… why?"

"Then obviously she would help you. What wouldn't she do to be around Adrien?"

"Valid point," Nino concedes. "But she's good at it, so it's okay. Marinette could join us sometime if she really needs the help."

"I can bring it up…" Alya doubts that would go over well. Marinette's and Chloe's personalities clashed—badly. She doubts any sort of productive studying would come at all from such an event, and she would have to deal with a fired-up Marinette afterward. Maybe not.

Although… it would give Marinette an opportunity to hang out with Nathanael. He, Nino, and Adrien all share a townhouse in the small town of Paris, NC, kept alive by liberal arts university it hosts. Maybe Alya can go along for the study session, in case things start to go badly and she needs to mediate. She nods to herself. "Yeah, I'll let her know. She might appreciate that."

"Sweet. You almost done with this form?"

"Not quite, but I think I'll get it today. We still have about an hour, right?"

Nino glances at the clock. "About, yeah."

000

Marinette glances at the clock and groans.

"You okay?" Adrien asks, looking up from his wheel.

"Yeah, I'm fine. But we only have half an hour left, and I still haven't finished this stupid form."

Adrien glances down at the almost-finished shape on his wheel, then quickly deforms it. "Don't worry," he assures her, clearing the wheel and starting over with a new lump of clay. "You'll get it eventually. It just takes practice."

"Easy for you to say. You're actually good at this."

He frowns. "Talent is only, like, 12% of success. It helps a lot, but overall what really matters is that you stick with something and work hard. And be patient," he adds, noticing the stress in her shoulders. "I come in here a lot in the evenings to fit in some extra practice. That's helped me more than any natural talent."

Oh. "I feel like I could definitely use that," Marinette agrees. "It's hard to get over here most nights, though. I usually ride home with Tanya after work, so I can't really stay late."

"Yeah, that would be an issue. Lucky for you—" He flicks a little bit of clay at her, smiling as it sticks to her face and she ignores him, glaring down at her wheel— "I'm in the habit of driving myself. So if you ever need a ride, just let me know."

Marinette spares a thankful glance at him. "Thanks, Adrien, but I couldn't ask you to drive that far. I'll find some extra time, don't worry."

"Your apartment's only like 15 minutes from my house," he argues. "It's not that far. So, just, don't hesitate to ask for something if you need it, alright?"

"I won't," she promises. "Thanks."

He's already helped her so much, however, that she probably won't take him up on it. Ever since she met him at the beginning of their first semester, he's been helping her. When she mentioned that she was minoring in Chinese, he immediately offered to help tutor her. Dr. Pike, the chairman of the university, is a family friend of the Agreste's, and Adrien introduced her to him. Adrien is the one who secured her job at the library, and even helped Alya to get her job at the restaurant in town where she now waitresses part-time. Marinette is convinced that Adrien is the World's Nicest Person.

By the end of class, she still hasn't finished her second form, and her arms are killing her. She stretches them over her head as they leave the classroom, bumping into the door frame. She winces.

"Same, Mari," Alya moans, using one hand to massage the opposite forearm. "I should really take Ellie's advice and start doing some push-ups."

Marinette groans. "I hate push-ups."

"It shows." Marinette punches her friend in the shoulder. "I'm kidding!" Alya whines. "Let's make it a competition. It'll be fun!"

"You only say that because you'll win."

Grinning, Alya shrugs her shoulders. "Only one way to find out…"

"Whatever. I'm only doing it because I really need to get better at this. We on for lunch?"

"Yes ma'am. Catch you outside the caf at 11:30."

They part ways, each trying to alleviate the pain in her arms.

"Adrikins!"

Adrien jumps as Chloe wraps herself around his arm.

"You're walking me to class, right?"

Sparing a final glance at Marinette's retreating back, he sighs. "Of course, Chlo."

She rubs her forehead against his shoulder as they walk off.

A sharp tug on his short ponytail pulls Nathanael's attention away from whatever he was watching.

"You're cooking tonight, right?" Nino asks.

Nathanael nods. "Do you have cash? I need to run by the grocery store, but I forgot my wallet."

"Bro. You should get, like, a wallet chain or something. This is getting ridiculous."

"Because all I need is a big metal chain hanging out of my pocket. How emo do I look?"

Handing over twenty dollars in small bills, Nino raises his eyebrows. "Do you want me to answer that?"

A sharp glare from Nathanael only makes his taller friend laugh. Nathanael yanks the money out of his hand. He isn't even that short anymore, not since his belated growth spurt just before he started college. Nino is just… really tall.

As Nathanael stalks toward his next class, Nino spares a disgruntled look at his wallet. He has exactly four dollars left over for lunch. Seriously, would it kill Nath to make a checklist or something before he leaves the house? His absent-mindedness is taking a serious toll on Nino's diet.

Whatever. For Nath's cooking, it's a worthwhile sacrifice. Nino exits stage left for his business class.