3.

The third time Aubrey sees Chloe naked, she doesn't exactly see Chloe naked, but she sees why Chloe is, and it mortifies her just the same.

Admittedly, Aubrey returns to their shared apartment earlier than she usually does on Thursdays. But junior year is well underway, papers and tests are piling up, Alice is turning into an even crueler slave-driver, grad program invitations are dropping in, and her father is on her case for not yet selecting a law school. Aubrey skips her workout after night class, just wanting to curl up in bed, sleep in peace, and hopefully wake up with a settled stomach.

Which, she tells herself for a while afterwards, is why what happens at home upsets her so much.

She opens the door and sees Chloe's bare legs propped up on top of the couch. "Hey, Chlo," she calls out in the warm tone she reserves for her best friend, even though she also feels like hitting Chloe (or her legs) for being able to be so relaxed.

"He-e-ey! Aubrey!"

At the strangled tone, Aubrey looks up from where she's placing her keys on the counter. That's when she sees that Chloe is only partially wrapped in a blanket.

"Ch…l…o…e…" she begins, but it's too late. She's already seen the redhead's bare shoulders and collarbones, more than a hint of her cleavage, her heavy-lidded eyes, flushed cheeks, tousled hair.

Then, a guy Aubrey has never seen in her life steps out of their bathroom.

In the same breath with which Aubrey thanks pantheons of aca-gods that he is wearing boxers, she also prays she will soon forget the nail marks on his stomach.

"Bree…" Chloe croaks. "This is Tom. If… If you just give us a minute…"

Aubrey gives them four hours.

She knows Tom must have left their apartment only minutes after she fled it, but she doesn't return. She loiters in the library until the last possible second, then holes up in a deli.

She's just giving Chloe some privacy, she tells herself, even if nine texts and six missed calls suggest that might not be what Chloe is after.

Aubrey doesn't know why she's this bothered by walking in on her best friend and some guy she's been dating (if this Tom is the Tom Chloe's mentioned before) after they had sex. It was not an impossible thing to happen in college—hell, in life. It was also partly her fault; she didn't tell Chloe she was coming home earlier than planned.

Besides, she reminds herself, if her history of spotting Chloe in various states of undress is any indication, Chloe is no nun. And what did Chloe expect her to think, on those nights she didn't come home and gave Aubrey no explanations in the morning? It's not as if Aubrey expects Chloe to kiss and tell. (Aubrey wouldn't. Aubrey didn't.) But, for serious, it's not as if she hasn't noticed—

So what is her problem now?

Because all those guys were never in your dorm room or apartment, Aubrey thinks. (Neither were those girls—Aubrey's stomach churns at this additional thought. My God, Chloe, you and boundaries.) This time, you feel your space has been invaded. Chloe's never brought anyone home before.

Not that it is actually Chloe's home, or hers. Not to mention theirs.

"I'm sorry, Bree," Chloe says later, way past midnight. She has waited for her to come back, lounging on Aubrey's bed and not on any other controversial piece of furniture. "I promise I'll clean the couch. I'll even buy a new one."

"You don't have to, Chloe. Just—just warn me next time, please, if you can manage." Of course. Of course Aubrey is going to make this about scheduling and protocol, as she organizes stuff around her room and avoids Chloe's contrite gaze. For some reason, she is more unable to look at her now, fully dressed in pajamas, than when she was just covered by a blanket.

"I'm so sorry. We were going to go out, but he came by here, and it just happened…"

"Please don't tell me how it happened."

She meant that to come out lighter than it did. Chloe swallows, tears springing to her eyes.

Aubrey sighs. Maybe this Tom really matters to Chloe, she thinks. Maybe, this time around, Chloe really matters to whoever she's sleeping with.

Aubrey tries not to add to that thought.

"Chlo, I'm sorry. Forget about the couch. Just… well…" She sits down next to Chloe and takes her hand. "So... Tell me about Tom."

A smile so quickly forms on Chloe's face that she almost wants to drown in a pool of her own vomit. Did that guy really make her best friend so happy? Or was Chloe also just that relieved that she wasn't (that) mad after all?

The only things Aubrey takes away from Chloe's story are that Tom is a baseball player; Tom is a really sweet guy and a shoulder to cry on; Tom does not mind that Chloe is also into girls; and Tom has always wanted to meet her, because "I always tell him that you're amazing, Bree!"

When Chloe drifts off to sleep in mid-story later, her head is nonchalantly tucked into the crook of Aubrey's neck, her hand casually dropped across her lap. As Aubrey slides Chloe off her and towards the other side of the bed, she tries hard to ignore a voice in her head.

It's whispering: So. Tell me about Chloe.