Taylor sat in class, waiting for it to be over. Or, rather not waiting for it to be over. But, when you wish the day wouldn't end, the clock just seems to move faster. She was itching in nervousness about today: it was Ryan moves in day. Her class ended at 11 and Ryan was supposed to show up with his stuff around 12, which gave her an hour to re-check the apartment to make sure that it was perfect. Even though it was pretty obvious at this point that he wasn't going to change his mind about moving in, Taylor still had nagging doubts in her mind that made her go crazy. She still felt as if he could change his mind within ten seconds if everything wasn't perfect. Being comfortable around your roommate was supposed to be natural, you were supposed to feel at home with them or else what was the point of trying to live together when you can't be comfortable in your own home?

Trying to regain focus, Taylor tried to tune back into the lecture only to find that the professor was still talking about the same thing he was when she first zoned out. She checked her watch and realized that it was 10:45, the teacher had been talking about Dickens for the past 45 minutes. He wasn't making any new points either, just going around in circles about his old ones.

"Oh God" she muttered to herself " I really should have skipped today."

Taylor heard the person next to her chuckle and say " I know what you mean. This topic was interesting when he first talked about it, but now he's beating poor Dickens to death."

She looked over, grateful for the distraction from her raging mind and the boring class, and nodded. " I know right? He needs to focus on a new point. No one care's anymore about the 5000 reasons why he felt inspired by his father, thus causing Dorrit to be modeled after him." She sighed dramatically. " I just feel like shouting I GET IT and then leaving."

He laughed quietly at this " Man, I hate freshman seminar courses."

"Same. Except that I'm a sophomore."

His eyes widened at this statement and he looked a little worried. " Please don't tell me you failed this class last year?"

Her jaw dropped and she frantically said "Oh no, no, no. I transferred here at the beginning of this year and Berkeley's making me take their freshman courses because "they are a major part of the education here, and my education wouldn't be up to Berkley's standards without it". Stupid seminars." she huffed.

"Oh, good. I was getting a little worried about your intellectual capacity." he said laughingly.

" I am an avid reader thank you!" she said feigning hurt.

"Where did you transfer from?" he asked curiously.

"The Sorbonne, it's in Paris."

The professor's voice boomed out, "Class Dismissed." As Taylor and the guy sitting next to her got up and gathered their belongings, he turned to her and said "Well, I'll see you tomorrow. Maybe you can tell me about France?"

She nodded "Sure. I'll see you tomorrow …." and then smiled nervously " I didn't catch your name. What was it?"

"Trent." he offered with a smile. " And yours?"

"Taylor." she said

He nodded. " I'll see you tomorrow Taylor."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Taylor stood inside the apartment, surveying it and deciding that she would occupy herself with stocking the cabinets with paper plates and cups. She'd gone into her "room" and haphazardly threw the boxes that she still had to unpack into a corner. Taylor gathered up all of her undergarments and placed them in the middle of a box and then covered it with sweaters (there was no need for a replay of last time's incident), Taylor took in the room and decided that it was in satisfactory condition. She'd taken one last took around her bare room, decided that it was satisfactory and walked out. She still didn't buy furniture yet, for some reason a part of her wanted to keep holding onto the fact that maybe this move wasn't permanent and that she could go back to France, away from her controlling manipulative bitch of a mother. Sighing, she turned her attention back to the paper plates and cups when she heard a knock on the door.

She took a look at the clock on her cell phone and it read 11:55. "Damn." She thought. "That hour went by really fast."

Opening the door, Taylor was greeted by a panting Ryan who was juggling two boxes in his hands. She opened the door, moving aside to let him in. He put the boxes down and said breathily "Jesus, carrying boxes up three flights of stairs can really knock the wind out of a person."

She smiled nervously, "You don't want me to help you with that do you? Because, really, I am more of the bookworm type not the macho woman carrying boxes type."

He laughed "You and Seth both. No, that's okay Taylor. I only really have three more boxes, I think I can manage."

"Oh, good." She breathed a sigh of relief. She noticed him surveying the apartment and asked timidly "Is something wrong?"

Ryan turned to face her, "Well… there's no furniture. Even a Chino-kid like me sleeps in a bed on a box spring."

She smiled sheepishly "I've been meaning to, but moving around has been hard and I kind of just wanted to keep the move as non-permanent as possible." Noticing the worried look on Ryan's face, she quickly added "Not, not like that. I don't want to NOT be here, but unpacking everything and going to buy furniture just cements the fact that I've failed."

Taylor looked up at Ryan to find him staring at her intently. "Failed? How?"

She shrugged and sighed, "It's nothing, never mind."

"Taylor, it's clearly something."

Right on cue, her stomach growled. Breathing an internal sigh of relief, she was so glad that her stomach just made that funny sound. How does one tell their roommate that she got married in France, came back to seek her mother's guidance, only to be kicked out by said "mother" and then threatened to be disowned? And, to top it off, Henri-Michel didn't want to sign the divorce papers.

She heard Ryan chuckle at the sound of her stomach and resorted to childlike tactics by sticking her tongue out at him.

"Come on." He said "Let me get these last couple boxes and then we can go eat and talk about that furniture" he added with a wink.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

They were both sitting in a little Mexican restaurant called "El Pavo Guapo", eating and laughing. It registered with the both of them that this was a little weird since they never really talked much and now they were suddenly living together, but oddly both of them felt that something good would come from this.

"So tell me something," Ryan began " Why did you transfer from Paris back to California? Why not Yale or somewhere equally as good?"

He sensed her hesitation before answering, but gave her time to collect her answer. It was something that had been bugging him ever since he left her apartment. In high school she never really fit in, she was like Seth only without the friends. Newport was the place where she was from, but it wasn't necessarily where she belonged. She could fit in so easily at a good Ivy-league school, why come home when you don't really have anything to come home to? In a sense he felt sorry for her, it seemed like she never really got affection, except for out of pity and he was determined to change that. She seemed like a good person, a nice person. Sure, she wasn't someone he would normally hang out with but he knew the feeling of isolation well and it was something he wouldn't wish upon anyone. Besides, its not like he was someone the Newpsies would normally hang out with and look how that turned out? There was definitely hope for Taylor.

Tuning back into Taylor, he heard her say "France's excitement wears off on you after a while. It was great while it lasted, but oddly enough I think I like California."

Nodding, he said, "Berkeley's different than Newport. There are more people here, and they're not all the same. It makes it easier to connect with them; over there if you don't fit in to the Summer/Marissa mold, you don't belong."

Taylor was about to say something but was cut off by the shrill ring of her phone. "Sorry." She answered sheepishly. "It'll just take a sec."

She flipped her cell open "Hello?"

" Yes, this is she."

" He's what?!" her face visibly paled and she excused herself from the table, holding her hand over the mouthpiece and mouthing "Sorry, I'll be right back," to a confused Ryan.

There food had just arrived when Taylor came back from her mysterious phone call, still pale.

"Everything okay?" he inwardly cringed. He hadn't meant for that come out sounding like his "hero-complex" tone. Ever since Marissa died, he'd refrained from girls knowing that he'd just land himself in another mess. But this time, this time there was something different. He couldn't help but let the words come out.

She sighed. "Listen, I really hate to ask but, Seth's not here and you're really the only other person I know, so…" she trailed off "Never mind, it's not like you would ever do that, it'd be way to weird."

His interest was piqued now. "Just spit it out Taylor."

She sighed, slumping her shoulders. "Will you be my boyfriend for a day?"

xoxoxoxox

It'll take you round and round

sometimes you're up, sometimes you're down.

It's just a ride, just a ride.

Don't be scared, don't hide your eyes.


Reviews give me inspiration. More reviews = faster updates. (anonymous reviews are accepted).

Sorry about the delay for this chapter though. The next chapter will surely be up much sooner.