This chapter really flowed - thanks for the reviews! Enjoy!

Chapter 3: Girl Talk

If the creature is the failed Adam, what does that make Victor?

What the fuck did that even mean? Astrid's head was always reeling after those stupid literature classes. What was she even supposed to be learning? If felt less like class and more like book club.

Back at her apartment after an exhausting class discussion about Frankenstein, Astrid was ready for a hot bath. She dropped her backpack to the floor beside the counter. With a groan she took out her used copy of the cursed book, and flopped it onto the counter. Her professor kept reminding them how important it was to get an early start on their final paper.

Astrid her notebook and tossed it on top of the book. Her hand had grazed an unfamiliar texture and she looked back down to find the leather bound sketchbook. Her mood inexplicably lightened. She set it beside the notebook and novel. She'd look at it later, after she'd found a paper topic.

She arranged the novel, a highlighter, an ink pen, and her open notebook on the countertop. Focus. She needed to focus. But it was proving difficult. She distracted herself with making hot tea and changing into sweats as the water boiled. With the steaming cup steeping and her lower half free from skinny jeans, she committed herself to a topic. But try as she might, her eyes kept shifting to the sketchbook, and she would wench them back to the blanket paper.

She tapped the pen furiously. It left a series of black dots behind. She fingered through the book, spying lines that she had underlined and pages she'd dog eared, at the professor's interest in something or other.

Religion

Astrid stared down at the word. No, that would be a stuffy and boring paper. She crossed it out with heavy strokes.

Society

What about it? It was board. How society treated the creature versus Frankenstein? Maybe. She left it in the list.

Feminism?

Strong women were absent from the story, Astrid had noticed, and she could go on about men controlling the world. Yeah, that topic could work. She crossed out the other and circled feminism with the same heavy stroke.

There. Topic decided. She'd figure out the details later.

Astrid groaned and pushed the notebook away. She grasped the sketchbook in both hands and pulled it over to her. She flipped the front cover open carefully, like an ancient book, as if it could fall apart into dust at the slightest provocation. The drawings inside were amazing. Some were simple doodles while others had amazing detail. There were buildings, animals, and all sorts of things. She became so engrossed in the pictures, flipping pages slowly, admiring each in turn, and not wanting to miss anything.

When she came to the last page her hand frozen. It took a moment for her brain to register the images. The page was covered in sketches of her. Flabbergasted, Astrid turned the page quickly, to find the one she'd caught him drawing in the library. It was the vending machine. Was that unfinished bit on the side supposed to be her, too? That idea put a rock in her chest. She let the page fall back down so she could stare down at her own face. It…felt invading…like he'd stared at her without her knowing, like he'd taken her picture from behind the bushes. But at the same time it was…oddly flattering.

Her phone chirped. She closed the book and set it on the counter. The blue screen was lit up with a new message, from Heather.

Hey, still up for 2nite?

Sure. Class was a drag and I'm out of it, tho lol

Cool, im in pjs lol - movie?

Sure

Astrid cleaned up her apartment. She had a bad habit of leaving her clothes about. By the time her clothes were in the hamper and the dishes were drying on a towel beside the sink, someone was knocking on the door. Astrid welcomed her inside and was relieved to know that Heather hadn't been lying about her pajamas. She was dressed in red flannel pants and a t-shirt under her hipster jacket.

Heather moaned and she kicked off her shoes. "Today had been something else. I'm super glad you didn't want to go out. I really didn't feel like it."

"So if I did want to go get smashed you'd have stayed at home?" Astrid asked.

"No, I would have gone." Heather nodded. "I would have held your hair while you puked."

They laughed. Astrid was glad she'd met Heather so early on in school. They'd had a couple classes together and they hit it off. They'd managed to get several general studies together. She was friendly and even though they hadn't known each other long she felt like an old friend.

"Painting today?" Astrid asked. She gestured to Heather's paint stained arms.

"Yeah," Heather laughed. "You know what they say, 'The life of an artist is full of paint stains and sorrow'."

"Thirsty?" Astrid asked.

"Water's fine." Heather dropped her bag by Astrid's and pulled out two movies. She held them up like playing cards, "What do you feel like? Comedy? Horror? I found this one in my closet the other day. It was one of those odd stocking stuffers from Grandma. I've never seen it."

"Sounds good." Astrid said. She got Heather's water and set it on the table beside her couch.

"You okay?" Heather asked as she turned on the television and knelt down to pop the disc into the machine.

"Yeah," Astrid nodded. It sounded like a lie, even to her, and by the look on Heather's face she knew it too.

"Are you sure?" Heather asked again, tilting her head down.

Astrid sighed. Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to get another girl's point of view on all this. She grabbed the sketchbook and held it against her chest as she walked toward the couch.

"Oh, you started drawing?" Heather asked. "It's okay if they're not very good. I typically hate all of my firsts."

"No, not me." Astrid said as she sat down. Well, she more plopped than sat.

"Hm?" Heather asked, feminine interest spiked. She crawled to the couch and sat down beside her. The movie started by Heather turned down the volume to listen.

Astrid started to tell her about the boy she'd ran into at the vending machines in the library. She told him about seeing him there after that, talking to him, and when she came to the part where he left his sketchbook she was breathless.

"And…you want to give it back to him?" Heather asked. "An excuse to talk to him again?"

"That was my idea." Astrid sighed. She looked down at the sketchbook she was holding so tight.

"Was?" Heather asked as Astrid flipped through the pages.

She found the page littered with her face and shoved it onto Heather's lap. Astrid watched as Heather scanned the page, her green eyes running along the fine lines, with that softened expression she wore when she looked at artwork.

"These are really good." Heather said, quietly, after a moment.

"What does it mean?" Astrid asked the question that she really wanted answered.

Heather smiled, "He likes you."

Astrid swallowed hard. Why did those words bother her like they did? They poked that unsettled lump in her chest, that same damn feeling that Hiccup somehow provoked.

"Don't be so nervous about it. I think it's sweet." Heather said. Her delicate fingers lingered on the page. She turned it to review his other works. "Is he a creeper?"

"Not really." Astrid shook her head. "He's kind of a nerd."

"Hm." Heather said as she scanned his drawings.

"Not like…more dork than nerd. You know?" Astrid asked.

"Yeah, kind of." Heather nodded. She closed to book, "So what are you going to say to him?"

"What do you mean?" Astrid asked.

"When you give him his book back. I mean, he's going to know that you looked at it." Heather said, giving it back to her.

Astrid got up to replace the sketchbook in her backpack. She hadn't thought about that. What would she say? She came back to the couch with a shrug. "I'm sure I'll think of something by then."

Heather grinned and restarted the movie.

Xxx

Hiccup could hear the music on the sidewalk. With each stair it grew louder until it sounded like he was living in a night club's broom closet. He slammed his door, hoping that maybe they'd get the message, though probably not, and he stripped on his way to the shower. The water was cold again, even with the dial as far toward the red H as it would go.

He wrapped a towel around his waist and didn't bother drying off completely. He's air dry soon enough. He came back out and fell onto the air mattress. He bounced back a little and laid there until he felt still. Without realizing it, he fell asleep.

Saturday started with a terrible bang. At first Hiccup was sure that someone had been shot right outside his door, and he scrambled out of bed to find something to defend himself, when he realized that it was just the noise from upstairs. The new song had a gunshot like beat that looped around every few seconds. He shouted and punched the air.

Knowing that there was no way he'd be going back to sleep, he found clean boxes in the basket of clothes that he'd washed and left, and retreated to the living room. With dry toast in his stomach and water to chase it with, he turned on his computer, and went hunting for his sketchbook while it booted up. It usually took at least six or seven minutes. But by the time the screen was on and alive Hiccup was still looking. He'd turned his apartment upside down.

"What the fuck?" Hiccup murmured. He thought back, he'd had it last…he groaned audibly. He'd had it at the library. He'd gotten that call and just walked out. It was in the chair. Hiccup kicked the wall and felt the sting run through his foot.

Xxxx

I know that the love triangle between Hiccup/Astrid/Heather is a popular thing, as much as I love it, I think that the friendship between Astrid and Heather is really underplayed and underused.