Seriously, why did I ever stop doing this? It's too much fun. Thank you, friends, for your reviews. As always, your words warm my heart and stroke my ego.

I'm trying this thing where I don't let too much time go in between posting new chapters. We'll see if I can keep it up, though.

"I really have to go now, Mom." I switched my cell over to my other ear, clamping it between my shoulder and my cheek so I could juggle my coffee cup and hike my slipping backpack up my shoulder. "I'm almost to class, okay?"

I was rushing down the student green, practically sprinting for Thaxton Hall, and I felt all out of sorts. I had lost track of time talking to my mother between classes, and I was running later than made me comfortable.

"Oh, what class?"

"College Physics…seriously, I love you, but I have to call you back later. Thank you!" I directed the last part to a generous soul that held the door open for me as I rushed past.

"Alright. Fine. My lunch is over now anyway. I love you, Clare. Call me later!"

With a final promise that I would, and a surge of pity for my mother's obvious separation anxiety, I hung up and quietly slipped into the lecture hall. Since I had only made it a few minutes before class, and there were a good sixty people in the room, I was forced to sit closer to the back.

I was pulling the big, intimidating Physics book out of my backpack, when someone fell clumsily into the chair on my left. "It's my savior!" The cheery voice of Adam shouted in my ear, but it was a welcome shock of noise. "My nose is forever indebted to you, kind one."

"Adam! What are the chances?" I smiled brightly, glancing toward the back of the room when a frightening, older man with a stern, serious expression and a briefcase started stomping his way down the center of the room.

"Are you actually asking? Because I'm afraid I don't have enough information to do that calculation off the top of my head."

I rolled my eyes playfully. "No, I'm not actually asking. So, you're feeling better?" I checked.

Adam opened his mouth to answer, but the professor started to clear his throat menacingly. "I am Dr. Leskov." He spoke with a heavy Russian accent, and I started to have a bad feeling about my future grade in the class. "You will refer to me as such. You can access the syllabus online as this university has recently started berating professors about the environment. If you wish to print out a hard copy then it is on your conscious."

Adam snorted loudly, and several people turned to shoot him a nasty look.

"This is College Physics, section 003. If you fear you are in the wrong place, lucky you. As for the rest of you unfortunate souls, we are going to begin." Dr. Leskov turned on the projector and brought up a power point presentation. He started talking about energy and vectors and velocity, flying through each topic in what I assumed was supposed to be an overview of what we would be studying but really just sounded like a foreign language.

I took as many notes as my hand could manage, but by the time the class period was over I felt like I had carpal tunnel and a headache that might have lasted a month.

"Well wasn't that a nice way to flex the ole brain?" Adam chuckled as he flipped his notebook closed. "Wanna grab some coffee? I don't have another class till 3:30."

I slipped my stuff back into my backpack and glanced at my watch. It was 1:30; we had plenty of time, and I didn't have any more classes. "I'd like that a lot. I'm all out, anyway." I help up my depleted cup as evidence.

"Rad." Adam pumped his fist in the air without even the slightest hint of irony. For a second I had a flash of Imogen and her seemingly unparalleled enthusiasm. My brother, Drew, goes here, and he says the best coffee on campus is this little diner in the basement of the student center called The Dot. Coffee's on me."

"No, no, it's cool." I assured him. "My mom sent me here with plenty of stock for my mini-fridge, so I haven't used my meal plan much. I'm sure a university boy such as yourself needs to be careful lest you consume too much food the first half of the semester and run out of money."

I was joking, but something about what I had said left Adam staring at me with impressed wonder. I was about to ask him if he was okay, but he recovered before I could get the words out. "No, I'm serious. I've got it. Consider it payback for the nose."

Adam ushered me into the student center, and I decided not to put up a fight. We both ordered a drink, Adam paid, and then we settled at one of the retro-themed metal tables. "Thanks," I smiled at my new friend.

"Thanks for being the first cool person I met at university." He raised his cup to me, and I blushed at his sincerity. "So what's your story, She Who Takes Pity on Underdog?"

I rolled my eyes at his flattery. "I don't know…I like to read. I'm an English major. I was valedictorian of my high school class. I'm not really a complex person," I confessed.

Adam chucked. "Simplicity can be a breath a fresh air. Plus, I know firsthand you're selling yourself short."

"Fine, then. Tell me about you. Make yourself come alive for me," I challenged.

"Uh, I am alive," Adam pointed out. I glowered at him playfully. "Fine. Well…yeah…I'm a Computer Science major, which is really just code for super-specialized engineer. I have a stepbrother. I like to play video games. You know, stuff."

"Not so easy to talk about yourself, is it?" Adam shrugged, allowing it.

"Clare Edwards!" A familiar voice called from across the room, and then—suddenly—a grey and pink blur was hurdling toward where Adam and I were sitting. "Hello!" Imogen slammed both of her open palms on the table. I had left the room that morning before she had gotten out of bed, so that was the first time I saw what she was wearing: fishnets, combat boots, and a grey dress with pink kitten ears on Imogen's chest, black whiskers sewn on across Imogen's waist, and big, expressive applique cat eyes. I found myself staring at the face of the cat instead of Imogen for an extended moment.

"Someone knows how to make an entrance." Adam was positively beaming at Imogen.

"Thanks! I'm Imogen Moreno. Who are you?"

"Adam Torres," he replied, his eyes roaming appreciatively in a way that made me smirk. Imogen seemed totally oblivious, though.

"How's it going, roomie?" She had a pastry bag in hand and was spinning the coffee sleeve quickly around her cup.

"Not too badly. How did your choir audition go this morning?"

"Isn't she great?" Imogen turned to smile benevolently at Adam. "She remembered I had an audition this morning!"

"She does seem to be number one when it comes to consideration," Adam nodded earnestly.

"I'm in," Imogen clapped. "And an alto, but I knew that part already."

"Congrats. I figured you'd get it. I heard you in the lounge last night. You sounded really good," I complimented. I didn't mention that—because the lounge was just two rooms down from ours—that I heard her late into the night while I was trying to read…and then later, sleep. She just seemed so easily crushed, and I didn't want to be responsible for doing that squashing.

"Aw, shucks," Imogen blushed. "Thank you, Clare Edwards. Hey! The RAs in our hall are hosting an old school game night on Thursday. There will be board games and Nintendo 64 games and Play Station games, and it will be great. You should go with me!" Imogen got a dreamy eye in her look and started to bounce up and down. "You should bring Adam Torres here, too!"

"You should definitely do that," Adam jumped on the offer.

I glanced from Adam to Imogen, quirking my eyebrow. "Yeah, that sounds fun," I decided.

"Hip hip hurray! Okay, I have to go to my biology class. Bye friends!" Imogen waved frantically for a few seconds before skipping off to the steps. I watched her go for a moment, noticing the tail that hung off the back of her dress.

"Who was that?" Adam asked in awe, his eyes practically falling out of his skull.

"My roommate." He nodded dumbly, still staring off after where Imogen had disappeared. "Oh please, pick your jaw up off the ground."

"Jealous?" Adam waggled his eyebrows suggestively, coming back from his infatuation.

"Am I that transparent?" I quipped.

"It's okay, Clare, don't feel bad. All the ladies have trouble resisting me," he pouted sympathetically.

"Must be the beanie."

"Golden rule of being my friend: never disrespect the beanie."

###

Wednesday, I was woken up early by Imogen's alarm again, and I found myself outside my Women's Lit class a half hour early once more. I had just pulled out my copy of Jane Eyre and my notebook to brush up on my notes before the lecture and discussion when Eli folded himself into sitting position on the ground next to me.

"Do you have anything going on Friday after three?" he asked without preamble.

I considered the question for a moment. "Nope. Why?"

"Would you want to meet in the library to research a topic for our project?"

"Sounds good," I agreed. I pulled my planner out of my backpack and scribbled a note in the box for that approaching Friday.

"Seriously?" Eli scoffed.

"What?" I got on the defense right away, prickling at his tone.

"I have never seen anyone more anal retentive in my life." He was smirking wickedly, and I kind of wanted to slap him. Just a little.

"I'm certain I have no idea what you're talking about." I turned my nose up at him.

"Wow…did you really use those absurd post-it strip things to mark pages in the reading? Did you highlight, too?" He was getting way too much enjoyment out of this.

"I'm a driven student, okay? Make fun all you want, but someday all my hard work will pay off and I will laugh in your face."

"Ouch," Eli emphasized the word sarcastically. "You do know you're an English major, right?"

"Yeah, and I'm sure you're majoring in something sensible like medicine." I eyed the journal in his hands scornfully. Eli chuckled and eyed me with a subdued appreciation—like he hadn't been expecting I was capable of being witty. "Wait," I realized something belatedly. "How did you know I am an English major?"

Eli looked caught off guard for a moment, and his cheeks reddened ever so slightly. Catching himself quickly, he smirked derisively. "Lucky guess, I suppose. It's not like it was that hard to deduce."

"Whatever." I scoffed, feeling oddly affected by the conversation and his sitting so close next to me. It made me squirm. I tried to start a game of You Don't Exist by turning back to my notes with a laser focus, but I lost pretty quickly as Eli Goldsworthy reached over and plucked my copy of Jane Eyre out of lap. "Hey!" I protested, quickly shoving my notebook back in my bag lest he go after that next.

"I just want to know what you found important enough to highlight." Eli was practically glowing with sick delight.

"Please don't tell me you are one of those guys who takes classes about women's right and importance just to lord the fact that you are an ignorant white man over everyone's heads."

He looked genuinely upset by my comment, and I flushed with chagrin immediately. He tossed the book back at me and sat back. "Well, you certainly know how to put a guy in his place," Eli laughed darkly. "Consider me properly abashed."

I smiled at his use of the word abashed in casual conversation. "Good."

He smiled back at me, ever so slightly, and then, with a mock-serious expression, he raised his fist and shouted, "Feminism!"

I giggled as a group of students talking at the end of the hall shot Eli looks of skepticism and annoyance. He cocked his eyebrow at me, and I couldn't help but notice that he looked quite attractive.

"Consider us even." I graced him with a smirk of my own, and Eli nodded, pleased.

###

Friday afternoon, Adam and I walked into the library. We had gotten lunch together, and the night before he had come with Imogen and me to our hall's game night. He was fast becoming my best friend, and when I had told him about Eli and all his strange behavior—leaving out the hint of scar that I had seen on Eli's wrist—Adam had waggled his eyes suggestively and claimed that he definitely had to meet the guy.

"All I'm saying is if you're going to interrogate Eli because I maybe flirted with him once, then I get to say suggestive things to Imogen about you when you're not around."

"Why? Do you think she'd be receptive to that?" Adam asked seriously.

Jokingly, I shoved his shoulder, and Adam winced, letting out a little whimper. "Whoa, what's wrong?"

"It's nothing," Adam promised. But his face hadn't relaxed; there was still a tiny grimace of pain.

"Did…did those guys find you again?" I asked under my breath.

"Well, I mean, they didn't have to look very hard. One of them is my roommate—the big guy with the stupid hair and bushy eyebrows? Yeah, his name is Owen."

"What?" My voice flew up a couple octaves with concern. "You live with one of those goons? Adam, that's awful! We have to do something about it. Is he hurting you?" My body was quivering with worry and rage as we settled into two of the cushy chairs off to the side of the entrance to wait for Eli.

"Clare, calm down." Adam rolled his eyes. "We got into a fight, but it's no big deal. I ate some of his food, he was angry, it was stupid." He was being all too nonchalant about the whole thing, and it felt wrong to me. But if Adam didn't want me to worry about it, I should let him handle it, right?

"Alright, fine," I nodded, "but if you need anything you know you can tell me."

"I know." Adam smiled kindly.

"And you should still look into getting moved," I protested under my breath.

Adam rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to say something, but Eli approached just then. "Um, hi," he looked uncomfortably between Adam and me. "You, uh, brought a friend?"

"You're quite the charmer with your words, huh?" Adam cocked an eyebrow at Eli.

"Every sentence I speak is a stunning display of verbal acuity, yes."

Adam laughed loudly, earning a dirty look from the guy at the info desk and a small smile from Eli. I figured that was a good a time as any to jump in. "Eli, this is my friend, Adam. Adam, this is my English partner, Eli."

"It's nice to meet you, man." Adam held up his fist for a bump, and Eli amiably reciprocated.

"Likewise." There were a few seconds of weird silence in which no one could really decide how to proceed. Then, Eli asked, "So, have you known Clare a long time?"

"Only since I knocked her out, like, a week ago. Is that a Dead Hand shirt?"

Eli had looked as though he was going to ask Adam to elaborate, but the boys switched gears quickly. "Yeah—it's from their reunion tour back in 2012."

"Fuck, I am so jealous right now! I wanted to go to that so badly, but…," Adam trailed off with a flush. "I couldn't."

"I have Eric Rothman's drumsticks from the show. And my dad's a DJ, so I got the concert DVD for free." Adam's eyes were sparkling with jealousy and desire. "You could come over sometime—it's been a while since I've watched it."

"Dude, are you serious?" Eli nodded. "Awesome. Here, give me your number. I'll text you." Adam handed over his phone, and Eli quickly punched in a number. "Cool," Adam smiled. "Well, I should probably get going, but I'll see you around, Eli. Bye Clare!"

I waved, and as Eli was taking Adam's place in the chair beside me, Adam turned to give me a discreet thumbs up and to mouth an "I APPROVE."

I stuck my tongue out and shooed him away. "So he's a cool kid," Eli chuckled. "Did he say that he knocked you out?"

"Yes, yes he did," I chuckled. "Want to go up to the fourth floor? I think that's where the computer lab is."

Eli agreed and we headed for the elevators. "So are you going to make me beg you for the full story, or what?"

I considered that. "It might be fun to watch…why not?" Eli glared at me until I held up my hands in surrender. "I was just kidding. There isn't much to tell. Some guys were harassing him, they pushed him into me, it gave him a bloody nose, and I helped clean him up. The end."

"Do wounded people flock to you or something?"

The elevator stopped at the fourth floor, and we both got off. "I don't understand the question?" I wrinkled my nose at him.

"Good."

When he didn't go on, I decided not to push. I was already kind of exhausted with playing his weird mind games. Instead, I switched gears into the reason we were there; after all, according to Eli we were going to do this project and go our separate ways. "So, I was doing some reading, and I think that if we do our project on an individual woman instead of a theory, we could still mention any theoretical contribution the woman made. I found this French poet who was also a philosopher and theorist."

"Helene Cixous?" Eli guessed, setting his bag down at a computer. I pulled over a chair, and sat next to him. We sort of had to crowd in around the study carrel, and our knees bumped. Eli didn't move his out of the way, so I didn't either, hyper aware of our sudden proximity.

"Yeah, that's the one." I smiled.

"She's pretty cool, but Dawes is kind of Cixous scholar. Not only does kissing ass to get a good grade not appeal to me, Cixous is kind of dense and Dawes would know for sure if we said something wrong." He didn't speak harshly, more like he was trying to let me down gently.

"Fair enough," I deflated. "Well, do you have any ideas?"

Eli tapped at the keyboard of the computer, lost in thought. "Hmm…I've always been a pretty big fan of Sylvia Plath."

"She did have the trifecta: deep, dark, and depressed."

Eli chuckled. "Exactly. What do you say, Edwards? Want to dive into some Plath with me?"

Our knees were still touching, and he was smiling excitedly at me, and though I knew we had agreed to focus on the project, but the way he asked the question made me tingly with excitement. "Definitely," I beamed back at him.

Eli searched Sylvia Plath, and we did some quick reading on her life. It didn't take us too long to gather enough information to write the formal proposal. "Look this over, please?" Eli tilted the screen over toward me and I leaned in to make sure everything looked grammatically correct.

He leaned back, stretching out his arms over his head, and I couldn't help but take note of the way his shirt rid up just a little to show a strip of skin. I flushed a deep red. "It looks good to me," I cleared my throat, trying to sound normal.

Eli noticed where my eyes had landed, and quirked an eyebrow at me, subtly fixing his shirt. Neither of us said anything as he printed our proposal out. When I got back from retrieving the sheet from the printer, Eli had packed up his things and looked ready to go. "I have to get to work now," he explained. I nodded, grabbing my own stuff. "Um, you know, if Adam comes over—I don't know if you like Dead Hand—but you're welcome, too."

"Thanks," I flushed with pleasure, trying not to smile too widely.

Nervously tugging his sleeves over his palms, Eli nodded. "Alright. Well…see you around, then."

"I guess you will," I replied, giggly from all the stupid awkward tension between us.