December 2

Stella

"What about this shade?"

"Isn't that the same one you just showed me?"

I groan exasperatedly at Musa's lack of knowledge and throw the foundation shade in my bag. "I don't know why I brought you here. It's like shopping with a monkey."

"And I don't know why I'm friends with you." she bites back. "You know you have a serious problem, right?"

"Being?"

"You're a shopaholic!" Musa exclaims loudly, throwing her hands in the air and making a few faces eye us weirdly. "You stress shop and stress spend."

"You don't think I know that?" I hiss quietly. Just last night I was thinking the same thing. "We've been over this, Musa. There's nothing I can do to fix it."

"Stop buying so much," she suggests uselessly. "You might also be a hoarder with how many clothes you have stored in your closet."

I gasp indignantly. "Stop saying I'm a hoarder!" I glare at her. "You know I'm donating the things that don't fit me anymore."

"You said that a year ago," she deadpans. "And you didn't even donate them. They're still in your room."

"I have attachment issues," I argue poorly. "They're too cute to give away."

"Uh-huh," Musa crosses her arms across her chest. I know she doesn't believe me, no one does. But what they don't realize is that giving away clothes is like giving away your child. "Can we just go? Bloom's making guac today." (1)

"I think I might skip today's dinner," I tell her, taking her hand in mine and cringing at the memory of last night's dinner. "I'm still digesting yesterday's pasta." (2)

"You're lactose intolerant. I don't know why you ate that." she points out as she opens the door of Sephora and exits it.

I fight the urge to strangle her as we walk back to my car. I throw the keys at Musa since I usually avoid driving as much as I can and get in the passenger's seat. Musa turns on the ignition and in less than a minute she's already exiting the mall.

"Is Sky staying over tonight?" I ask curiously, my head leaning against the car window.

"I don't think so, he has basketball practice tomorrow morning." she answers with a shrug.

I knit my eyebrows together and stare at her. "Did Sky tell you that?"

She eyes me weirdly for a second before turning her eyes back to the road. "I mean, he told Bloom."

"Oh, those two lovebirds," I grin to myself when I picture them together. "I deserve a gold medal for introducing them to each other." I muse. "Should I do the same for you?"

"Introduce me to Sky? No," she answers sarcastically. "I don't do threeways."

I laugh at her dry humor. "Why not? You need to put yourself out there, live a little." I suggest.

"Oh yeah? Like you put yourself? Tell me Miss Popularity, when was the last time you went out with someone?" she asks sarcastically.

"I'll have you know that I hooked up with Pete last month," I grin triumphantly. "We've been talking ever since."

"Did you finally lose your virginity?"

I flush at her question and whisper a small 'no'. "Only because I was menstruating." I try to defend myself, crossing my arms over my chest.

But Musa always managed to see through my bullshit. "You know you can't keep blowing guys to get their attention off you, right? Someday someone will ask for more."

"I'll be sure to bury myself when that happens," I mutter under my breath, hating where this conversion is going.

So what if I have commitment issues? What if I don't want to get attached to a boy and then have him break my heart the next day? It's not a crime to be a virgin. And I'm not exactly one. I've been around the block, I've fooled around plenty.

"Listen," Musa starts gently. "I'm not suggesting you whore yourself, all I'm saying is that there's more to life than pleasuring guys and then leaving without receiving any. You want your friends to find someone special yet here you are, refusing to experience something deeper for once."

"I'm not refusing," I reply stubbornly. "I just think that I'm too young to tie myself to one guy. I have a few admirers, why don't I enjoy my time with them?"

"Stella, you already went out with the entire basketball team, what's next? Hockey? Soccer? Lacrosse?"

I roll my eyes at her comment. "Excuse you, I've only hooked up with the majority of the team. There's still Riven and Sky left." Not that I'd ever go out with them. One is technically taken and the other one is a major pain in the ass.

"And the captain," Musa adds with a grin, and my breath hitches.

Brandon Shields.

The only guy in BU who hasn't attempted to get in my pants.

Musa knows my dilemma with him. And Bloom. I always feel like he's avoiding me and that fucking angers me. "I'm thinking he's gay," I tell her and she stifles a laugh. "I'm serious. No guy with a working brain would ever not be interested in me."

"Does he even know you?"

"I think so," I tell her with a shrug. "Sky briefly introduced us at Kate's birthday party last year."

"Has it ever occurred to you that maybe he's got other girls to spend a good time with?" she asks. "I mean, you are famously known for not putting out."

"I put out," I reply stubbornly, but then I think about it and relent. "But, yeah. Maybe you're right."

Musa stays quiet for a few seconds. When she stops at a red light she grabs my hand and looks me in the eye, sympathy swimming in her cobalt ones. "You know not every relationship ends like your parents, right?"

Yeah, she knows where to hit all right.


December 3

The room fills up as Professor Richmond enters the classroom. All chatter dies when she places her book on top of the podium and looking around, I've never felt more out of place. Everyone's starry-eyed and eager to learn with their notebooks opened and their pencils out. I however stay in my seat, my manicured nails tapping the desk and my other hand holding my chin.

Professor Richmond starts speaking, but I don't pay attention. I see her hand out stacks of paper and I receive mine monotonously. I read over it, especially the highlighted part, and groan internally.

Research project topics. Due: January 14.

A project. Just what I needed. Why is it that med students always seem to have a project? Can't the professors just teach?

". . . I know it seems like a lot, but I promise it isn't," I hear Professor Richmond chuckle, no doubt having heard a complaint or two. "You won't be running solo here, if you turn your paper around you'll see your partner. Now, these were assigned randomly and I will not be changing partners, who you see is who you get permanently."

Absentmindedly, I turn my paper around and start searching for my name. It seems like the list was made alphabetically, so I skip over the names until I reach the letter S. Oddly enough, I don't see my name on the paper. As I was about to raise my hand and clear the misunderstanding, I notice, from the corner of my eye, my last name Solaria. It's next to Brandon Shields.

The urge to stare at the paper with my mouth completely open was strong. I re-read my partner's name to make sure it wasn't my mind playing games, but I notice I wasn't wrong and that the notorious Brandon Shields is my partner.

With newfound excitement, I lift my head to gaze around the classroom and search for those familiar brown curls of his. I never saw him entering the classroom so I didn't think being his partner was even a possibility.

Hell, I didn't even know he takes this class.

"Stella?" Professor Richmond calls my name as I still search for my partner. She gestures me to go to her and I take my belongings and do so, nearing her desk in a second.

"I'm sure you noticed by now that your partner's not here, he's at a basketball practice," she explains and I nod in realization, remembering Sky didn't stay over yesterday because of the same thing. "Coach Peterson just texted; the practice's over. I asked if Brandon was busy but he's completely free for the next hour. If you'd like you could go find him so you can talk about the project, I'll excuse you for the day."

I nod and thank her, exiting the classroom. I know she said to go and find him, but I've got to make myself more presentable if I'm going over to him. I mean, we're talking Brandon Shields here.

Basketball captain.

Jock.

Player.

Hottie.

Has the best damn smile I've ever seen.

He can't see me sporting a messy bun and untouched eye-bags.

When I reach the bathroom I notice it's empty and I take advantage of it by spilling my entire makeup bag on its counter. I start by fixing my hair, letting it down, and holding it back with a clip, my bangs floating freely. I grab the concealer to conceal my dark circles and fish out my favorite vanilla-scented lipgloss. For the final touch, I spray a bit of Chanel No. 5 all over my body and smile in satisfaction at the view of myself in the mirror.

Well, well. If I don't clean up nicely, I don't know what does.

I grab my makeup and place it back in my purse. With a last look at my reflection, I open the door and leave the bathroom. I have no idea where Brandon is, but if Professor Richmond said he was done practicing, then I'll guess he's at the locker room, probably changing his sweaty gym clothes.

When I enter the locker room, I find it empty. No Brandon, only beat-up lockers and old, wood benches and the distinguishable stench of sweat and dead rats. Honestly, how can the boys handle being in this room? How can the janitor even survive cleaning this place?

The sound of running water captures my attention. I glance at the double doors and realize he must be in the showers. I inch towards the door and open it, peeping my head through and searching for him.

"Brandon?" I call out in a question. Hopefully he recognizes my voice.

The room seems to pause in silence. I wait a beat before he answers.

"In here," he replies in a muffled voice.

I shiver at the sound of his voice and take his response as permission to enter. I cross the numerous showers, greeting the cloud of steam, and stop in front of the one he's using. He has his eyes closed, his hands furiously wiping his hair. When he opens his eyes, I freeze and he arches an eyebrow.

Brown and swirly.

Just like chocolate.

"What are you doing in here?" his gruff voice snaps me out of my stupor, his eyes curiously searching my face.

And that body. I can't stop thinking about him naked.

"Uh —" I rake my brain for any words. "I'm Stella," I reply lamely, cringing internally.

Surprisingly, his left cheek lifts, revealing the most gorgeous, panty-dropping smirk I've ever seen. "I know that," he replies in amusement.

My shoulders sag. "Of course," I say, my gaze dropping to my hands. "I just thought, y'know, since you don't acknowledge me, that you didn't know who I am and —"

"What are you doing here?" He chuckles, interrupting me mid-rant.

I gulp and my gaze goes from my hands to his face. I pause, noticing a white splosh of something resting comfortably on top of his hair.

Without thinking I burst out laughing, clutching my stomach. His smirk drops and he crosses his arms, watching me intently.

"What?"

I stop laughing and lean inside the shower, careful not to get myself wet and focus so my eyes don't drop to that part of him that I have no doubt is glorious. "Why do you have mayonnaise in your hair?" I stifle a laugh, wiping it off his hair and cleaning my hands with water.

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, wiping his hair. "Blame Riven, he threw mayonnaise at me when he thought I was 'flirting' with Musa," he answers harshly and it's my time to drop the smile.

"Musa?" I question him, all playfulness aside. "As in loves music, will probably beat-the-shit-out-of-you-if-you-steal-her-CDs-Musa?"

He nods and my heart drops. "The one and only."

"She's dating Riven? " I don't intend his name to come out as repulsive as it did, but now I'm glad it did. I hate the guy.

"It appears so," he shrugs nonchalantly.

He turns the shower off and steps towards the door. Even if my mind right now is clouded with betrayal from Musa, my heart rate manages to triple. Water drips down his face, lapping over the small tattoo just below his ear and trickling between his hard, defined pecs. I seem to forget how to breathe as I watch his arm reach out for his towel, first drying his face and then going to his hair, his biceps flexing with the movement.

"So . . ." he kills the moment, wrapping the towel around his waist, not bothering to dry his chest, and stepping out of the shower. "What do you want? I'm pretty sure you're not here to take a shower."

My pulse hammers in my throat. He's dressing in front of me, and if he thinks he can just take that towel off and expect me not to act impulsively, then he's completely wrong.

I lick my lips and force my gaze out of his body. "Professor Richmond assigned a project for the trimester, she partnered us together and suggested I go find you."

"Richmond?" he places his hands on his waist, a skeptical look on his face. "You don't take psychology."

"I picked it up for the trimester. Extra credit." I respond. "We don't have to start today, but I'm free tomorrow if you can," I suggest, going to my purse and taking out the project syllabus. "Here are the instructions."

"Right," he takes the paper and sighs. "I have practice tomorrow but after that I'm free. I'll have to text you when though, can I get a number?"

"Sure," I smile, secretly feeling giddy that finally, Brandon Shields was going to have my phone number. "Where's your phone?" I ask, but I spot it before I can finish the question. "Password?"

"Nice try, sunshine, but unless you want to see something inappropriate then I suggest you give me my phone —" he warns, but I don't pay attention. Musa's a pretty good friend of his, she knows his password and she gave it to me once, saying one day I might need it.

Well, today's the day.

"Uh -" I pause when I unlock his phone, the first thing popping out a picture of some girl naked. "Some chick named Meghan sent you a nudie." I snicker upon seeing his expression. I exit the photo rather quickly, trying to erase that image out of my mind. "Perks of being Brandon Shields, huh? What, you have a folder full of 'em?" I grin teasingly and he rolls his eyes.

"Funny," he glares at me. "Just type in your number and do me a favor, block her number for me, she won't stop messaging me."

I roll my eyes at his comment and scoff. Men are so useless. S o what if she won't leave you alone? At least appreciate the nude.

I save my number and go to Meghan to block her. I enter their conversation and see that he's been ignoring her for a long time. So instead of blocking her, I type, 'That's so hot. Send me another one, babe', just to annoy him.

Maybe that'll teach this boy how to appreciate a girl.

"Done," I grin innocently, handing him his phone. Taking my purse from the floor, I pause before leaving. "Don't forget about me!"


I'm so happy that I received so many good reviews after I posted the first chapter. To be honest I didn't think you guys would like it since my past stories never did so well. I hope you liked this chapter as much as you liked the other.

I received a few questions regarding me discontinuing 'The Triangle' so I'm going to answer them.

Why are you discontinuing 'The Triangle'

I don't know if I mentioned this, but I recently discovered how important it is to keep the character's personality canon if you are writing fanfiction. I've seen lots of stories, Brella stories, about highschool and none of them portray their personality as the same in the show. Mine was one of them. Another reason is that I grew out of it, I didn't feel a connection with it anymore. I guess you could say I've lost motivation to continue to write it.

Also discontinue does mean that I'm going to stop writing it permanently.

Can you also try writing in 3rd person?

I find it easier to write in first! I think this whole story is going to be written in first person. I'm also planning on writing dual points of view, so I might write the next chapter from Brandon's point of view!

Darlene: Hi! Thank you for your nice words! I can also see Stella obsessing over basketball boys even if she doesn't know anything about the sport. Brandon is the captain of the team, we'll see in the future why and you guessed it! Meredith is a slightly important character who I will not say yet who she is. Who do you guys think she is? (I think it's quite obvious). Stella did not buy the Mercedes herself, it was her dad, Radius, he gifted it when she turned 17! And to answer your last question, Stella's majoring in fashion design and Brandon in sports medicine!


(1) guac as in guacamole.

(2) I'm lactose intolerant and I don't know why, but I feel like it would be funny seeing Stella get mad because she can't eat what her friends usually eat.


Have a nice day, guys! Next chapter is almost done, it'll be up in a few days and it'll also be in Brandon's POV! I'm so excited to finish it!