... oh dear, has it really been that long? Hello everyone, and welcome back to Finding Gilmore! I know it's been ...awhile. And I know I suck, but let's just say it: Life happens. And due to certain circumstances in life, I had to put writing on hold because of work and studying, but I am slowly but surely trying to make a comeback. Who knows how long that comeback will last, but I just want to say that this story is so near and dear to my heart. I want to finish it so badly and give Richard and Emily the story they deserve. So please bear with me as I try to maneuver my way back into writing! So without further ado, here is Chapter five of Finding Gilmore!

Chapter Five:

October 11th, 1963: Emily's POV

I wake up to the sound of bells—clear and distinct ringing that makes me slowly smile as I wipe away the sleep from my eyes and stretch in bed. The campus bells ringing this early in the morning on a random day in fall can only mean one thing for us Smith girls: Mountain Day. After a month of rigorous workloads, endless reading assignments, unhealthy amounts of coffee consumption, and witnessing the first of many of Francine's panic attacks, I was feeling thankful for a day of cancelled classes and a picnic lunch in the park.

Mountain Day at Smith was a random day out of the year, preferably in one of the fall months, that was chosen by the President for the Smith girls to play hooky. Instead of dealing with boring books and monotone lectures by old and tenured professors, we were able to throw it all away for a day and trade it in for a relaxing and exciting day of no classes.

"Oh thank God," I hear Francie mumble as she rolls over in bed and takes off the sleeping mask from her eyes. "I think I'm just going to stay in bed for this year's Mountain Day. Wake me up when it's tomorrow morning."

I rise from my bed, wrap my robe around me and put on my slippers. "No Fran, we have a tradition remember? Eat an unhealthy amount of cereal at breakfast, prepare a sack lunch and have a picnic in one of the parks."

Fran pulls her blanket over her head and groans. "But I'm so tired! Professor Browning is determined to kill me and I haven't had one ounce of restful sleep in a month!"

I walk up to Fran's bed and yank the blanket off of her rather harshly and throw it across the room. "Emily?! What in God's name are you doing? I swear if you weren't my best friend …" Fran replies as she shoots up from her bed and walks towards where I've thrown her blanket.

"We have a tradition to live up to Fran. You're coming with me," I say and walk myself over to our door to begin preparing for the day. Hopefully no one was already occupying the upstairs bathroom with the heater.

"She's a wolf in sheep's clothing, I swear," I hear Fran mumble, but I know she won't cross me on this day. Fran knew how much I loved Mountain Day, and that an important part of it was our picnic in the park. Mountain Day always held a special place in my heart. It was a day where everything was put on hold and classes were swept aside. No matter how many readings you had or how much you felt like plotting the murder of that one particular professor you knew hated you for no reason, today was the day to put all of that aside and simply relax with the people you loved. Mountain Day, for some reason, always made me incredibly giddy and happy to be at Smith. It reminded me that this was the place where I was happiest and no one was going to take that away from me.

After I finish brushing my teeth and fixing my hair, I walk back to my room and find that Catherine is already there talking to a sulky Fran who, thankfully, has switched out of her PJ's and is wearing a cute black skirt with polka dots and a white blouse. Catherine looks beautiful as ever in a baby blue military dress that was very … liberal at the hem. But of course, Catherine always found a way to make it look elegant. As for me, I was going incredibly casual in high waisted black pants, a white-buttoned up blouse and a cream cardigan.

"Oh, how very modern Emily. Pants!" Catherine says as she walks up to me and envelops me in a perfume heavy hug. "I hear you went medieval on Fran this morning. I wish I was there to witness the raucous."

"There was no raucous, I simply told Fran that tradition is tradition and that she couldn't waste away a well-earned Mountain Day," I reply as I walk over to my closet to grab a purse for the day.

Catherine sits down on my bed, grabs a tube of her signature red lipstick and begins to apply it. "Emily, your fascination with this day is very romantic. I wonder why that is."

Fran mumbles something that sounds like, "Romantic and violent," but I brush it off because I know she'll forgive me for mishandling her blanket soon enough.

As I settle on a small black satchel and fling it over my shoulder, I hear the telephone ring from downstairs and faintly hear a girl pick it up and converse with someone on the other end. These walls in Talbot house were so incredibly thin that it was easy to hear the girl from downstairs say Fran's name after a couple minutes of pleasantries.

"I believe there's someone on the phone for you Fran." I watch Fran perk up as we wait for the footsteps getting louder and louder as they reach our door and sure enough, Dawn Noble, the sophomore who always seemed to grab the telephone before anyone else, steps into our room.

"Excuse me Fran? There's a boy on the line for you. Says his name is Henry?"

At this, Fran becomes incredibly panicked and jumps from her vanity seat. "Did you tell him to wait? Did you tell him I'd be right down? He hates waiting. Ladies, I'll be right back!" Fran rushes out of our room and only Cat and I remain looking at each other in surprise.

After a few moments of silence between the two of us, Catherine decides to speak. "She … She didn't used to be like that. At the beginning."

Not looking at her and pretending to be preoccupied with something in my closet, I simply respond with, "I know."

"Well, has anyone talked to her about it? Have you? It's not normal to be so … panicked when your boyfriend calls."

"Maybe she's just excited," I shrug and sit down next to Cat to put on my cream ballet flats that match perfectly with my cardigan.

"That wasn't excitement, Emily. That was panic. Fran worries me sometimes with this … fixation with Henry. She's so afraid of losing him that she over-caters to him hand and foot, and she's not realizing that he's—" Cat stops in the middle of her sentence and begins to concentrate incredibly hard on something outside our window.

"Please continue, Catherine. We all know you're always eager to speak your mind," I say tightly. As much as I did worry about Fran, especially with what happened over the summer, it was none of my business how Fran conducted herself with the man she chose to be in love with. Fran was a dedicated person and if she was trying to make her relationship work, I needed to respect that.

Catherine looks at me and I can see the passion and concern in her eyes. Catherine and I were incredibly different people, which is why I always found it odd that we were friends. While I tried my hardest to remain calm and collected by always holding my tongue, especially when conflict ensued, Catherine boiled over with compassion and worry that was written all over her face. She couldn't hide her concern no matter how hard she tried, while I tried to emulate my mother in her cold and silent demeanor. It was the only way to keep myself safe.

"Fine," Catherine continues with her line of thinking. "If you really want to know, Henry is a wart on the bottom of Fran's foot that will ultimately prevent her from wearing the cutest heels when she wants to the most."

I laugh and stand up to inspect my outfit in the mirror. "You would express your thoughts through fashion, Cat."

"You know what I mean! Fran is an amazing girl with extraordinary talent and knowledge! She doesn't belong with a brat like Henry who will expect her to stand by his side in silence while he lives his life and she what? Stays at home and wastes away? That's not Fran's destiny! She is brilliant, Em. And Henry is just holding her back. I know it and you know it."

I cross my arms and turn towards Catherine who has gotten red in the face from her rant. "Well, what do you expect we do? I understand your point, I really do, but this is what Fran wants. She wants Henry; she's always wanted Henry since she laid eyes on him. This isn't our battle, Cat. This isn't our relationship. It's hers."

Catherine's brow wrinkles and proceeds to put her hands on her hips. "We can't—Or, hell, I can't stand by as she does this to herself. Henry is a slime of a person and Fran deserves better. To hell with— "

Cat isn't able to finish her expletive because right at that moment, Fran walks in with a completely changed attitude. She's wearing a smile on her face as she practically skips into the room. "So! Let's get this Mountain Day started," she says and grabs a black coat hanging from her bed frame.

Cat gives her a quizzical stare, but I can tell she's eager to ask why the sudden change of mood. "So … Fran. How's Henry?"

I give Cat a warning stare, but Cat isn't the type of person to listen to anyone. "All's well with him up at Yale?"

Fran looks down at her shoes for a moment before deciding to face us with an intent look on her face. "Well, funny you should ask Cat! Henry has actually invited me up to Yale today. He heard it was Mountain Day and wants to see me."

I begin to object, but Fran puts up her hand to stop me. "Now wait, Em. We can still eat copious amounts of cereal and make ourselves a packed lunch, but instead of a picnic, how about we eat our lunch while we road trip to Yale! And since it's a Friday, we don't have to be back until midnight! Please girls!" Fran is practically hopping out of her shoes as she lays out this unexpected plan for a road trip.

Catherine looks panicked and about ready to bolt at the idea of having to see Henry. She, obviously, was not a fan of his. "But darling, I'm sure the invitation only extended to you and not to me and Emily."

Fran shakes her head vigorously and walks up to Cat to hold her hand. "No! He said to bring whomever I wanted! His fraternity is hosting a party tonight and it looks good to the members if he brings along a few ladies."

"Ah, so we're cattle then," Cat replies to that reasoning.

"No! You know what he means, Cat. He needs to look good in front of his friends and it gets us off campus. We need a break from this place! It's a win-win!"

"Hmm," Cat contemplates. "What do you think Em? You're awfully quiet over there."

I look over to Cat who is giving me a concerned look, almost as if she can read what is currently on my mind. The fact that I hadn't told anyone what had happened this summer felt too much like betrayal, but I knew saying anything would do me no good because so much time had passed, and the longer I kept it to myself, the harder it was to try and say anything. So I tucked away my concern and simply smiled to both of my best friends and tried to muster up the ability to be pleasant about this. "If that's what you want Fran. If you want us to come, we'll go."

Cat glares at me from Fran's side, and if looks could kill, I would surely be lying flat on the floor instead of trying my hardest to keep myself upright at the thought of having to see Henry since that awful night in August.

"Well then! It's settled! We're going to Yale!" Fran excitedly grabs her purse and practically floats out of our room most likely to get a head start on breakfast.

Cat slowly walks up to me and I know she can sense the panic that is trying its best to stay at bay. "Something wrong, Em?"

I look into Cat's blue eyes and simply shake my head. Cat may be the uncontrollable fire that consumes your every last breath, but I was ice. Hard to move and impossible to break.

And today, I would not break.

"Nothing wrong here. You heard the girl. Let's go to Yale."

O~O~O~O

Richard's POV:

"Truly, we can see a dualism in Honore de Balzac's work throughout the 19th century. And as we progress in this class from romanticism to realism, you will find that the transition is clear throughout the span of Balzac's writing. The ultimate question we must ask ourselves then—and surely what French intellectuals asked themselves during this period—is where did "realism" begin? Balzac is where we must start with our investigations, because surely this man's work is where it is said to have begun, though others may differ of course. His successor, Flaubert …"

Professor Sweeny's voice begins to fade as I aimlessly try, but ultimately fail to get down every last sentence he is saying. Although I want to be focused and pay attention to this excellent man's words, I can't seem to concentrate on the task at hand. All I can think about is the letter I received from my mother yesterday. Trix had been gone all summer and fall in Italy, doing another tour of the country with her travel companion, Nora, our neighbor back home. Both had lost their husbands around the same time, so they ended up finding solace in one another's company. And although my mother's travels left me alone for most of the time I was home from school, I was delighted that she was healthy and able to do the things that she loved with someone she had so much in common with. My mother was not coming home until the end of November, deciding to take a short rest from traveling in her London home before coming back to Connecticut, so this long period of time being apart meant that she wrote to me often.

Usually, I was delighted to receive correspondence from my mother while she traveled abroad. Reading about how she managed to continue to live her life after my father's passing soothed my heart, because for a time, I was worried that Trix would never be able to survive the grief that overcame her when she lost my father. Usually, I would be excited to read what new cultures she was soaking in and what types of people she was befriending, but yesterday's letter did not have the same tone as others, and it revealed a shocking surprise to say the least.

My dearest Richard,

Everything is going marvelously well for Nora and I here in Italy. You would not believe the weather here. Sun all year round—it's a wonder how anyone gets anything done here. A good length of cloud and rain builds character, you see. People who do not live through tumultuous weather cannot truly aspire to other challenges in the future. One must fight through challenges to exercise a mental strength that builds fortitude and an upstanding quality of life.

Speaking of challenges, my dear boy, you cannot guess who Nora and I ran into while we were staying in Milan for a quick week before heading off to Sicily? Or perhaps you can guess, as I'm sure you've maintained consistent correspondence with her as you've kept with me throughout these months I've been away. That's right, my boy. We were staying at the same hotel as your dear bride-to-be, the young Ms. Lott. Her mother looks glowing and vibrant, but if I do say so myself, she should feel horrid over this… divorce between her and Mr. Lott. It really is quite a shame to see such an upstanding family in our society lose sight of what is important: familial obligation, strength and unity under one roof. But all that is beside the point, Richard. I asked Pennilyn, during one of our interactions out in the lobby, if she and I could have a moment together over breakfast. Just her and I.

Well yesterday morning, we sat down together and she mentioned that she was incredibly excited to get back home to you and her friends at school. I told her that you were hard at work at Yale and that surely you were thinking of her as much as she was thinking of you. Now, as much as I believe that to be the case, Richard, I do hope you still plan to remain steadfast to the promise you've made to Pennilyn. I know you are busy in school and still have another year to go, but remember. The Lott's, despite their misgivings, are an excellent family with great connections in society. The melding of our two families is something that must go as planned, not only because you love her—and she you—but because it is what we all want. In any case, Pennilyn told me that she would be cutting her trip a month short. She should be returning at the end of October and I will be home at the end of November. Surely that month will give you the time that is needed to reconnect with your beautiful future wife.

I hope your studies are going tremendously well, my son. I will see you in the winter.

From your loving mama,

Mrs. Gilmore

"Cutting her trip a month short."

The words kept spinning round and round in my head from the time I received the letter to now.

"Flaubert enjoyed clashing with the official moralists of the period with his debut novel, Madame Bovary, which we shall read in its entirety this semester. Continuing on with the realism movement in French literature, we shall also delve into …"

"Cutting her trip a month short."

It would be exactly like my mother to have a hand in this new idea wouldn't it? I love my mother, truly I do, but this reeked of my mother's meddling, and as much as she was a stern and stoic woman, she could not hide the passive hints within her letter.

"Naturalism in itself, bloomed out of realism, as we will see in the works of Flaubert's protégé, Guy de Maupassant …"

What did it all mean? This trip being cut short. And why hadn't Pennilyn written to me of this change of plans? Did she want to surprise me? Or did she not want to say that my mother was essentially casting her out of Europe?

"All right, please have pages 1-200 of Madame Bovary read by our next meeting on Tuesday, I shall see you all then."

I hear the rustling of papers and students standing up to leave. I look up in surprise and the professor is up at the front packing his suitcase in a hurry. Was class really already over? To my side, I see Michael taking off his reading glasses and sticking them into his pocket before packing up his books.

"Is … class over?" Stupid question, I know, but I could not believe that a two-hour lecture had concluded and I only had two pages of notes to account for it.

"Yeah, Richard." Michael looks down at my desk to see only two pages of unruly scribbles on my notepad. "Wow," he continues in surprise and proceeds to take out his notepad from his case and hands it to me. "Just have it back to me by next class. If not, I know where you live."

I smile up at my friend and decide now would be a good time to pack up my books and leave. As we walk out together and back to our room, I can tell something is on Michael's mind, but he doesn't know where to begin.

"Just say it Michael. I can hear you thinking." We walk out of the building and onto campus. For a moment, I let myself breathe in the fall air and enjoy just how amazing it is to have the privilege of being on this campus everyday. But only for a moment do I let myself revel, and it is back to reality.

"Something seems off Richard. And don't say it's not, because you've been acting strange since you got back to campus. Did something happen over the summer?" I can hear the concern in Michael's voice and of course my best friend of two years was right. There was something wrong, but how could I explain to him what was wrong, when really, I had no idea what was wrong myself?

"Nothing's particularly wrong. I got a letter from my mother yesterday saying Penny's coming back a month early. She should be home by the end of the month."

Michael slaps my back in congratulations. "That's great news! Then why the surly attitude? She's coming home!"

I nod my head and put my hands in my pockets because the next words out of my mouth were going to sound incredibly shameful. "It is good news. But … but what if it's not?"

Michael gives me a quizzical stare. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"I don't know. I don't know what it is, but ever since she's been gone, I've worried more and more that perhaps… perhaps there might be something missing."

"Missing?"

"Yeah, missing. I love Penny, I have been in love with her for so many years that I've forgotten what it was like not to be in love with her. But these months that she's been away… I'm afraid that it may change us. Will we be missing something we once had when she was always here?" Not the most coherent answer to the question, but at least I was getting somewhere with my thoughts.

Michael pats me on the back again. "I'm sure it'll be fine once she's back. You worrying about it isn't going to change anything. Just give yourselves the chance to reconnect. At least she'll be back early and you'll get to see what's there and decide what is best for the both of you. And I'm sure you're going to find that it was like she never left."

I smile to myself and return the pat on the back. "I'm sure you're right. Well, all this talking and zoning out in class has made me hungry. Should we grab a bite before heading back to the room?"

Michael smiles up at me and begins to walk faster towards the dining hall. "Now you're speaking my language!"

O~O~O~O

Emily's POV:

"I want a father exactly like Franie's! Maybe then I could be blessed with such a beautiful car! Why doesn't my father work for GM?" Cat is screaming as we make our way south towards New Haven, Connecticut in Fran's bright red and new convertible that was a going away gift from her father, a high up executive over at General Motors.

Although it was frowned upon to have a car on campus, Fran's father was able to pull some stings with the administration. Oh, the joys of the wealthy.

"Stop yelling Cat! I want to listen to the radio and I can't very well do that with your screeching!" Fran yells, but I can tell she's enjoying her time behind the wheel and with us as she begins to giggle. She turns the music up and as the lyrics start bursting out, we all begin to sing along:

I don't know how, I'm gonna do it

Do-lang, do-lang, do-lang

But I'm gonna make him mine

Do-lang, do-lang, do-lang

He's the envy of all the girls

Do-lang, do-lang, do-lang

It's just a matter of time

Do-lang, do-lang

"Sing it Fran!" Cat begins to yell again. "Are you going to sing this to Henry when you see him?" Cat sticks her tongue out at Fran who makes a mean face at her in the review mirror while I sit back and enjoy the wind through my hair.

It took about an hour and half to get from Northampton to New Haven, but with the way Fran was driving her new car, we were probably going to make it there in an hour. I suggested we take the bus, but Fran was eager to drive her new car, seeing as she didn't get to drive it around school much.

He's so fine

Oh yeah

Gotta be mine

Oh yeah

Sooner or later

Oh yeah

I hope it's not later

Oh yeah

We gotta get together
Oh yeah
The sooner the better
Oh yeah

I just can't wait, I just can't wait
To be held in his arms

"Christ, you would think the only thing to make these women happy is if they had a man." Cat mumbled from the back as she read through the latest issue of "Vogue".

"There's nothing wrong with wanting a man. Is there Em?" Fran asks as she briefly looks at me through her oversized white-rimmed sunglasses. I stare back through my own oversized black-rimmed sunglasses and just shrug.

"Seeing as Em hasn't had a beau in ages, maybe she could give us some deep insight on this topic. 'Glamour' was just talking about this in their latest issue as well." Cat was oh so invigorated with her women's magazines that it was always hard trying to figure out what was her opinion and what was just magazine speak.

"Well, what do you think Em? Is the woman of the 1960's a liberated woman, free to do as she likes, or is she meant to marry and pop out a bunch of babies at home while she waits for the husband to come home and fertilize her once more?" Cat was never one to hold back, that was for sure.

"Ugh, Cat, you're so crass." Fran makes her way towards our exit and I am thankful to finally get out of this car soon. This discussion wasn't one I wanted to be a part of.

"It's just a question! You all know times are changing!"

"Oh look at that!" I exclaim and point towards what I can tell is the faint outline of the Yale campus. "We're here. Now hush, Cat. No more talking about this. And besides, Fran, if you're happy that's all that matters."

I hear Cat scoff from behind me, but thankfully the topic is dropped and I can go back to the absolute bliss of not talking about a subject that I was not ready to be talking about.

O~O~O~O

"I didn't say you could come."

And just like that, our plans to come to Yale were absolutely thwarted. What a great start to Mountain Day.

Fran, Catherine and I had finally made it to the campus dorms, but couldn't find Henry at his room. When we were there though, a passerby said he would probably be at the Delta Kappa Epsilon house getting ready for tonight's mixer. So that's where we found ourselves currently. But what we were not expecting was to find Henry coming out of the house and giving all of us a quizzical look before grabbing Fran by the wrist, stepping away from us and softly reprimanding her for coming.

"What gave you the idea that I invited you? Darling, that wasn't an invitation to come tonight. But since you're here, you might as well come."

Fran crosses her arms around herself, almost as if she's trying to protect her heart from the embarrassment. "But you said! You said I could invite my friends to come, and seeing as it was Mountain Day, you said we could spend the day together perhaps touring the campus. How could I have made that up?"

Henry stands up straight and stretches his arms before he rests them on Fran's shoulders, which have sunk to a new low. Catherine and I were leaning against the bright red convertible and giving our feet some not so needed attention, but this interaction between Fran and Henry—after months of not seeing each other, I might add—was too horrid to watch.

"Darling, I was simply postulating. I didn't want to take you away from today's festivities back at campus. I was just thinking how great it would be to have you here, but I didn't say anything about you actually coming."

"Yes, but then I said that since I had the day free, we might as well not postulate and make it a reality. I'm so confused. I drove all the way up here, Henry."

"Yes, I do realize that. And now that you're here, it's not a problem, but next time, sweetheart, listen to me when I'm speaking. I have a lot to finish today, so I can't show you around, but feel free to come tonight. You've been here briefly when I moved in yes? How about you revisit the places we went to with your friends and I will see you tonight." Henry finishes the conversation with a kiss on Fran's forehead and walks back into the house where there is certainly tons of commotion.

Cat clears her throat and walks up to Fran who is still standing in front of the house in utter shock. Cat wraps an arm around her shoulders and guides her back to the car. "Pardon my words, dear Fran, but that was simply shitty and I have no qualms turning around and going back to school if that's what you wish. I'm sure Em would agree too."

Fran shakes her head and her red hair goes flying. "No. I—I must of misheard. Perhaps he was just hoping that I could come and perhaps he really didn't invite us… I feel so foolish. Of course that's what it was."

Cat looks up at me and gestures with her face for me to say something that would help Fran feel better, but really, what could I do? I wasn't privy to the conversation, I didn't know what was said and what wasn't said. Of course, I knew Fran wasn't an idiot, and if she believed we were invited than that's probably what she heard, but me implying it wasn't going to fix the fact that Fran was hurt.

So I simply grab Fran's arm and squeeze it softly. "It's all right honey. I'm sure there are plenty of things to do here if you want to stay, and if you want to go, then we can go."

Fran sniffles, and I can tell by her watery eyes that she is on the verge of tears, but she manages to pull herself together and muster a smile. "No, you heard him. We can still come, and I want us to have a good time. So let's stay." I see Cat throw her arms up in the air behind Fran in utter aggravation, but I smile at Fran instead and nod my head in affirmation.

"Of course. If that's what you want."

Fran's smile becomes bigger and she begins to rummage through her purse looking for her keys. "Yes, that's what I want. Now, I know the campus a little bit, so if you want to see it and perhaps pass through the library while sipping some coffee, I wouldn't mind doing that." Fran's voice is small, so anything to make her feel confident in herself is something Catherine and I were going to have to do.

"Well Cat, it looks like we're going to get a tour of campus. Let's make our way over. Come on, honey." I guide Fran over to the car.

Cat gives me a tight smile and even though she's wearing sunglasses, I know she's glaring at me and wants to tell someone off so badly for what just happened to Fran. Both Cat and I were incredibly protective of Fran, we just had different ways of expressing it. Cat walks up to me and whispers to me so Fran, who's in the driver's seat now, can't hear. "I swear, if I get any time alone with that weasel tonight, he's going to regret making her feel so small."

"I'm sure you will, but until then, let's try to enjoy our day." I put on my sunglasses and enter the passenger seat of the car. As the engine revs, I glance over to the house and see that Henry has come out to the porch and is leaning against the doorframe, staring. And as much as I wish he was staring at us as a whole, I can tell that he is simply staring at me, and I can feel a chill run down my spine as he stands there in his fraternity sweater, hair perfectly groomed and black pants without one wrinkle. From the outside, Henry was the boy every mother would want her daughter to meet. But when you saw the look in his eyes, the smirk on his mouth and the air of arrogance surrounding his entire person, all you really wanted to do was scream and run away as fast as your God given legs could take you.

I stare intently back with a blank expression over my entire face and wait for him to end the staring contest, which he eventually does with a small laugh and smirk before turning back into the house.

"Henry was talking about this quaint little café near the heart of campus. Want to stop by there first and then we can walk over to the library?"

"Sounds peachy," Cat replies monotonously from behind her magazine.

"Excellent plan, Fran. Let's go."

O~O~O~O

Richard's POV:

After eating way too much food at our favorite on campus dining hall, Michael and I slowly but surely make our way back to our room. My spirits lifted over the course of getting out of class and eating, and I was beginning to feel like everything was going right until we got to our front door and saw the message waiting on our message board.

Michael groans and rolls his eyes as he looks at me. "So? What do you think? Do we dare make nice?"

I push my glasses upward and scrape my shoes on the ground, because this was truly not something I liked doing, and I absolutely loathed it when Henry invited us to anything ever. It's not that Michael and I weren't social people; we just didn't feel like being social with all of the Delta Kappa Epsilon community.

"You know he'll give us shit if we don't go. And look at the bright side, Percy will most likely be there, and he'll have us drunk off our feet before you know it, so it's not like Henry will bother us."

"Because we'll be too drunk to notice Henry yelling slurs of expletives and monologues from Shakespearean tragedies?"

Michael scrunches his face at me in disgust and begins digging through his pocket for his key. "Don't sully the name of the bard by putting him in the same sentence as Henry please. It's too much. But what do you say? Shall we go?"

"We'll get flack for it if we don't," I reply simply and unclip the message from our door. As I sit down at my desk to start my reading for my 19th century French literature class, I look over to the letter I received from my mother yesterday lying in a stack of notes from other classes. The good mood I was in slowly dwindles as I recall what is in the letter and it only gets worse as I re-read Henry's note left for us at our door:

"Big Mike and Richie, Mixer tonight at DKE house tonight at 7 o'clock sharp. Wear your finest or be charged with indecency. See you there!"

And there we have it! Hope you all enjoyed! Also, I know I said we would be getting some R&E interaction this chapter, but after I passed page 15, I realized I was going to have to stop here and save that interaction for Chapter Six. So sorry!

I can't make any promises as to when I'll be back, but know that I love this story so much and your feedback and comments are always super appreciated! Until next time!

xxx

Priscilla