Hot Cocoa and Mistletoe

Is there a way to go back in time and fix this colossal mistake? is what Bay Kennish was thinking as she looked at her books sprawled out across the desk at the library belonging to the school where she was now a freshman enduring a horrible fate: finals.

The 'mistake' she was referring to was that of taking geology. At the time, it seemed like a perfect plan. She would be able to take an English comp course, a requirement for all incoming freshmen, and take two art classes. Perfection! After all, wasn't geology commonly known as the Easy A? "You'll find the jocks in there," other students joked.

Except now the joke was on Bay because geology was anything but easy. In fact, it kicked rocks. Her final was in exactly 48 hours and there was zero chance of her remembering everything since the first class. The worst thing a college student can hear? Cumulative final exam which essentially means, "Hey, hope you paid attention in class this semester, suckers; otherwise, you're screwed."

While it was true that Bay had never been the model student during most of her years at Buckner, during the second semester of her junior year the tides had changed. She no longer was Slacker Bay. Hell, she made the honor roll at Carlton. With that being said, she wanted to keep up her (fairly) new status as accomplished Bay. Scholarly Bay. And yet, all she could see as she highlighted paragraph after paragraph talking about sedimentary rocks was Failure Bay.

If she could go back in time to the day she had registered for classes, she would have chosen differently. That's for sure. A small sacrifice it would have been to take one less art class. Why did she need two anyway? It was her first semester. She was an art major for Pete's sake. She had seven more semesters left of art classes. But no, of course not. Two classes and geology.

Stupid, Bay!

Sigh.

Since studying obviously wasn't doing any good, she decided to come up with another plan. Taking out her phone, she typed up a text.

Do you think Bay could be considered a unisex name?

A minute later she had a response:

Depends. Bay in and of itself isn't a common name, but it could be a nickname for Bailey, which is a unisex name. Why?

How much do you know about geology?

She smiled when she saw the reply.

No.

She had a feeling she would like this game. Take this.

Pleaaasseeeeee.

No.

She was laughing at their exchange. She wasn't really serious about him taking her exam, but why not have some fun?

You suck. A good boyfriend would do this for his girlfriend who is SUFFERING through geology.

Hehe.

You can't see it right now, but I'm playing the world's smallest violin right now for you. And P.S. Geology isn't suffering. Romantic poetry is suffering. You should write my paper for me.

She rolled her eyes. Boys. Why do they think girls live and breathe romance, let alone poetry?

What makes you think I'd be any better at it than you? Besides, you ooze romance.

:) Do I now?

Oh boy, what had she started?

Yeah, don't let it go to your head, Romeo. I'm not bad at that little thing called the Grand Gesture myself.

Do you really want to get into this with me? I did a wall. Declaring our love.

Hmmph.

I organized a zombie movie shoot for your birthday. And Dawn of the Deaf Day at Maui.

Of course he had a comeback for that, though.

And I put a billboard up of your art.

He did have her beat there.

When she didn't respond, he pulled out even more stops.

And at your brother's rehearsal told everyone you were my One. Face it, I win.

That he did. Which brought her back to her original point.

=(

You can't handle defeat.

No, I can. I said you oozed romance which is why you should have no problem writing a paper on romantic poets. I, on the other hand, am no geologist. Which is also why you should take my test for me.

Sorry, no can do. I will, however, let you lean on me if you do fail (and maybe a few other body parts ;-) )

Ha!

No way. If I fail I'm going to go to my other boyfriend who was willing to take my test for me.

Zing.

Or so she thought.

Well, if you have other options stop wasting time texting me and ask him. :)

She rolled her eyes again. He made it so hard to faux-fight. Or concentrate. Or do anything productive. All she wanted to do was lay against his chest and cuddle.

There could never be anyone but you.

Well, I'm glad. I wasn't really worried, but it's nice to hear that anyway. You gonna be there all night?

Unfortunately.

Afraid so :(

Want me to come and keep you company?

More than you know, but I would get even less work done that way. There's a reason the sixth floor is known as the Sex Stacks.

Get your mind out of the gutter, Kennish. I was merely suggesting offering you moral support. I was innocent before you corrupted me.

She starting laughing so loud that everyone around her glared.

"Shh!"

"Sorry," she mumbled.

Bledsoe, you were never innocent. But I like that. You're my motorcycle rebel.

And you are my street art vixen.

Was it normal to still get butterflies from him after all this time?

I love you.

I love you more. Now, go study.

And so, she did.

She must have dozed off though somewhere around midnight. Thankfully during finals the library was open 24/7. She was dreaming about rocks laughing at her, pointing, mocking her stupidity.

Suddenly, she was awoken by someone rubbing her back ever so gently. When she looked up, she saw him.

"Hey, you."

"Hey."

He bent down and kissed her on the lips.

"What are you doing here?"

Man, even her signing was groggy.

"Thought you could use some reinforcements" He handed her a cup.

"Coffee?"

He shook his head.

She took a sip.

Hot cocoa. Yum.

"You did this all for me?"

He rolled his eyes.

"You act like I performed some great miracle. I merely brought you some hot chocolate."

"Yeah, at two in the morning."

He simply shrugged, as if she should know by now that he would do anything for her. Cross a burning bridge; risk freezing in the rain; be her friend when she couldn't offer more. And he was right; she should. But still.

"You really came to the library in the middle of the night just to bring me some hot cocoa?"

He looked at her, studying her, answering her unspoken question that yes, he'd do anything for her. It didn't matter the time, the place, the weather.

"I knew you were here. It's kind of hard for me to sleep knowing you're 'suffering'". He chuckled, but only ever so slightly. And then he locked eyes with her, a more solemn expression appearing: "Because I suffer when you do, too."

She felt a tear roll down her face.

"You can't make me cry in the library during finals. It's not fair."

"I didn't say anything that wasn't true."

"I know."

"You ready to go?"

He offered her his arm.

"Yes. More than you know."

He helped her pack up her books and walked her out into the cold, dark night.

When they were a few feet away from the steps of the library, he stopped and pulled out something from his bag. It was a bit difficult to see given the time, but the lamppost helped illuminate it.

Mistletoe.

"I read that if you are standing underneath this with someone, you have to kiss."

She smiled and obliged as he held the mistletoe over their heads.

"Mistletoe and hot cocoa; yep. Like I said, oozing with romance. You win."

He winked at her.

"I won a long time ago."

As they walked off into the darkness hand in hand, all she could think was, me too.