Hot, cold. Hot, cold. Hot, cold. I'm so freaking sick of it. I like to think I'm a fairly understanding person, however, when people don't explain what is going on, why they're being the way they are, it's hard to understand. It's the situation I'm in with her right now. I don't understand because she won't tell me anything. I get it, we barely know each other. She doesn't even know my name, but that doesn't excuse her from being this way with me.

So I do what any girl would do in this situation. Social media stalking. I dig through her Facebook, twitter, Instagram, anything that has her name attached to it, you can bet I'm looking through all of it, but I find nothing to indicate why she'd be the way she is about us, but I come across an interesting fact. Her father is a professor here. I think I've seen him around before, judging by the photos I found of him, so I take the next logical step...

"Bree, do you know Professor Mitchell?"

"Yeah, he was my Comparative Lit Professor in junior year. Why?"

Would it be going too far to ask Aubrey to scope him out and possibly ask him about Beca? Nah, not for me to do anyway.

"Did you know he's Beca's dad?"

She turns in her seat and looks at me, eyebrow raised. "Beca as in, the Beca you want to bone, Beca?"

"Well...yeah. What's your deal with her anyway?"

"Where do I start? The tattoos, the piercings, the general 'I hate everything' look she has about her."

"Bree, I don't..."

"The fact she hurt you." She cuts me off and I sit there for a second and process the comment.

"How do you know she did?"

She gives me a 'seriously' look. "Oh come on Chlo, you haven't been the same since your "date". I'm your best friend. I know these things."

I roll my eyes, damn Aubrey for knowing me too well.

"Alright, fine she did. But, I'm sure she has her reasons. She was fine until she got a phone call."

She sighs and sits back, facing the TV again. "What do you want me to do?"

Score one for Beale!

Rehearsal over the next couple of weeks has been fairly uneventful. We've mostly just been focusing on the dialogue rather than the music, but Beca has been there every day, watching, sometimes making notes about God knows what.

I'm sitting with the rest of the cast off stage as Jesse works on his dialogue and blocking onstage right before 'Once In a While'. Just before he gets to the song Beca pulls him offstage and takes his position to sing the song without movement. I've personally always loved this song and hearing Beca sing it is just doing things to me and not in the 'I want to rip her clothes off' kind of way. It's more like the, 'my heart is pounding and my palms are sweaty' kind of way. She looks directly at me and I have to bite my lip and look away, a light blush making itself known on my cheeks, but the few seconds of eye contact we shared I could see nothing but sincerity and longing in her eyes.

Damn it Beca!

Here we go again.

Here she goes again.

Making me feel things other than anger and frustration.

When rehearsal ends and everyone leaves, I stay back and take my place on stage to sing my part of 'Superheros'. I feel the song right through my chest. I feel everything that has happened since she showed up. Then rejection, the unexplainable, raw need I feel for her. The ache in my chest when I think about the day in the booth. I manage to get through the song and I hear clapping. I quickly turn around and see Beca leaning against the wall stage right.

"Your roommate asked my father about me. Why?" She questions without much pre-emption.

I bite my lip and make my way backstage to pack up my sheet music. I don't feel like playing this back and forth game that had become our conversations, but I feel her eyes on me the whole way.

"I wanted to know about you and your dad..."

She holds up her hand to interrupt me. "He's not my dad."

"Your father was the only person who'd know." Didn't get much out of him though. He doesn't seem to know you very well. I want to tack onto the end, but I don't want this to turn into an argument if I can help it.

"What about me? Didn't you think to ask me at all?"

I sigh. I'm so sick of this. I hate this. Ask her? Yeah right. She would never give me a straight answer. She wouldn't even stay in the room long enough to say 'hi' lately.

"I would've if you hadn't been giving me whiplash."

I look up at her and see the amusement dancing in her eyes and it just infuriates me further because God she's beautiful and perfect and...Ugh! No Chloe, you're mad at her. Cold routine remember?

"What?"

"This hot and cold routine Beca. I'm so sick of it. Just tell me the truth. Why, all of a sudden are you avoiding it anytime I bring up what happened on the roof?"

I watch her turn her head to look at the staircase that leads there.

"I...Red, look, feelings aren't easy for me okay. I'm no good at explaining how I feel. I shut myself off sometimes because of things I'm not ready to tell you. I mean it's crazy, I feel so many things for you but I don't even know your name and...It's just insane...I – you make me feel things."

She looks so lost. I can't stand it. I take the couple steps forward to close the distance between us and I turn her head back to look at me with a finger at her chin. She looks up at me and I see the bob in her throat as she swallows hard.

"I can't...the roof...it was a mistake. I shouldn't have tried to kiss you. Can't you just let it go?"

"Not this. I won't. Not when I know that I want this. I want you."

Her eyes lock onto mine before she smirks.

"Why couldn't you sing the song like that in the booth?"

"Because I couldn't feel it the way I could today."

My eyes flick down to her lips and I feel myself start to lean in.

"Tell me no. Tell me you don't want this and I'll back off."

She stays silent and I take that as an answer before leaning the rest of the way and claiming her lips in a tender kiss. God, her lips are soft. I feel her arms wrap around my waist and pull me closer to her as she tilts her head and tries to deepen the kiss before suddenly breaking away.

"I can't..." She breathes her breath warm against my lips still at such close proximity to hers.

I groan and step away from her, grabbing my bag. Dramatic exit take two...hair flick. Check. I stop at the door to turn back to her.

"My name's Chloe by the way."