AN: I don't know how I feel about this one. It came out so easily, though, that I didn't even question it. It's all I envisioned, so I shouldn't be complaining, but... yeah. Let me know your thoughts. I love knowing your thoughts!

From behind the podium at the front of Boyko's CJ 101 class on Friday morning, Sam could hear the whispered conversations going on around the room. He could smell the coffees from the front row and cologne from the one kid in the back—he was young, a little too liberal with the stuff. It was taking all of his power to keep his eyes trained on the book in front of him. It was for one of his own classes that he was taking. He'd been spending a little too much time at the Penny and worrying too much about impressing Boyko that he'd forgotten all about the five chapters he needed to cram in before 3 that afternoon.

When he heard cheers coming from the front row, though, he looked up to see Nash and Peck standing to clap. Before he even turned toward the door, he smiled and stood a little straighter. Andy was leaning against her knees, breathing deeply, and dressed in tight running pants and a black tank top that was sticking to her torso. She pushed herself up and hoisted her arms above her head triumphantly—looking directly at Sam.

"Welcome to class," he said and she smiled widely turning toward her friends. Gail tossed her an ice cold water bottle that she caught and cracked open immediately. "Where're your books?"

Andy kept the bottle to her lips, but he was sure she was smiling as she nodded to Traci who was holding up Andy's blue and black plaid backpack. "So, you just… ran here? That was your plan?" He asked, slightly disappointed at the lack of excitement in the plan she had been so proud of two days before.

"For your information, yes," she said, walking toward him. She placed her bottle on the podium, effectively holding herself upright, as her other hand rested on her hip. "I ran, but thanks to Oliver, instead of running around the Langham Building, I ran through it. I don't know why I didn't think of it sooner. It's genius."

"You're dripping sweat on my book," he told her flatly, though he was smiling at her. She rolled her eyes at him and pushed herself off of the podium just as Boyko joined them.

"McNally, take your seat so Sam can take roll, please," he said without even looking at her. The look of pride on her face fell and Sam smiled tightly but genuinely at her again until she was able to do the same in return.

He waited until she was sitting next to Traci, next to the only other empty seat in the class—his—before he started calling roll. When he got to Andy's name, her friends clapped again until Boyko told the whole class to settle down and Sam finished the rest of the class without incident. When he sat next to Andy, Boyko remained seated at his desk in front of the window, so he leaned closer.

"Are you going to be able to keep this up all semester?" He asked, nodding toward her outfit and she shrugged.

"I think there's a shuttle in the winter," she admitted quietly. "I'll look into it, but can you just be happy that I got here today?"

"Hey, I'm ecstatic, McNally," he said and she rolled her eyes at him, causing him to laugh. "I'm just a little worried is all."

"Yeah, me too," she smiled. "I haven't run like that since last semester. I'm more out of shape than I thought I was."

"Could have fooled me," he promised, sitting back in his seat as Boyko took his place.

Andy left Boyko's class stuffed between Traci and Gail. She tossed Sam a smile before leaving and he nodded in her direction as he finished up helping an overly cologned student on his homework. Traci was going on and on about her most recent hookup with Sam's friend, Jerry, and Andy could see a spark in her eye that she could only guess was the beginnings of falling in love.

Andy'd never been in love. She dated throughout high school, sure, and they were always jocks. Funnily enough, she was more attracted to the quiet, strong types, not the loud and proud type. But she was a jock and jocks dated other jocks. That was high school, wasn't it? The strong, quiet types were the ones she would befriend in classes and they were the ones that fixed her dad's car when she got into a minor accident. They were the ones she watched closely as they poured over a good book in the cafeteria while she was surrounded by kids tossing food at each other's faces. She loved her friends from high school, she missed them every single day, but she liked being able to start over in college. And she liked that she could date whoever she wanted because she had no history here, no reputation. She was just one of the freshmen, just like Traci. But Traci was the one falling in love with a grad student, not Andy. Andy was just along for the ride, which she was happy for.

As they entered the courtyard, Andy was blinded by the hot sun. She wasn't complaining, though, because it would only be around for a little while longer. She stopped when they hit the grass and her friends turned to look at her with raised eyebrows.

"It's bad enough I went to English and Criminal Justice dressed like this," she explained. "I'm going to head back to the room and get cleaned up. I'll grab a granola bar before Bio."

"Andy, you have to eat lunch," Traci argued and Andy smiled at her to ease her worries. "I'll stuff a change of clothes in your backpack from now on, okay?"

"I'll remember to do that," she smiled. "Thank you for lugging it over here."

"It was nothing," Traci promised. "Just remember to look closely when you register for classes next semester."

"I don't know," Andy laughed, starting to walk backwards. "This whole running thing might be good for me."

"Probably not in the snow and ice, though," Gail reminded her and she shrugged. "I'll make sure Dov brings you something to eat while you guys are in Bio."

"You don't have to," Andy promised, still walking backward.

"I will, though," Gail said before she dragged Traci toward the dining hall. Andy smiled, happy she was actually making friends.

When she turned in the opposite direction, she ran directly into a muscular chest. "Um, hi," Sam said, gripping her shoulders to steady her. "You okay, McNally?"

"Ugh, sorry," she said, pulling on her backpack straps.

"You didn't listen to me," he said, hands still on her shoulders, and she cocked her head to the side in confusion. "Keep an eye out; you don't want to miss anything," he reminded her of what he told her in the dining hall on her first day of classes. It was hard to believe that it was only a few days ago because the hands on her shoulders felt familiar and the smile in front of her reminded her of something she had missed but couldn't quite place.

"Right," she smiled, letting her arms fall to her side. After they looked at each other in silence for a bit, she saw the recognition flash across his face right before his hands left her skin and slid into his pockets. She tried—and failed—to keep her face from falling. "Thanks for the help," she muttered, shifting from one foot to the other. "You know, for the…"

"Help?" He asked when she wrestled for the right word. The smirk on his face was teasing and she ran a hand over her embarrassed face.

"Yeah, the help on that assignment," she finished weakly. "Thank you."

"You said that," he reminded her and she rolled her eyes at herself. "Do you want to walk over?" He asked, nodding toward the dining hall and she shook her head.

"I've got to run back to my room," she shrugged. "But, um, have a good weekend."

"Yeah," he nodded, scratching the back of his neck. "You too. And remember that you don't need to squeeze everything in on your first weekend of college, okay? Be… Just be careful."

"I'll remember that sage advice," she promised, bouncing onto her toes. "And I will make sure not miss anything."

"Find that middle ground, McNally. You've got your whole life to make stupid mistakes. Don't make them all in one weekend."

"Are speaking from experience, by any chance?" She asked, stepping toward him and he laughed, shrugging.

"Just make good choices. Stick with your friends," he said, serious now and Andy nodded. She was honestly a little surprised at the intensity behind his words. He wasn't just warning her, she could hear the worry in his voice. "But have fun."

"Truth is, I'm probably going to end up at a bar or hold up in my dorm room," she shrugged. "Nothing too crazy. I'm not really that type of girl."

"Well," he shrugged. "Good. Later, McNally."

"Later, Swarek," she said as he walked past her to join his friends in the dining hall.

She watched after him for at least a full minute, until he was too far to see the tattoo peeking out from his t-shirt sleeve.

Sam dragged his feet from his last class as he made his way to his truck. Leaning his head back against his seat, he tossed his backpack onto the passenger seat before gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. His classes on top of the two he was TAing were making his head pound every night. It was only the first week of the semester and he was already overwhelmed.

Eventually, he loosened his grip on the steering wheel and pulled himself to sit up enough to start the truck. His apartment wasn't far at all, but the ride felt like it went on for days. He just wanted to get inside, crack open a beer, and lay down in front of the television. And that was exactly the plan until he got inside the somewhat rundown building and found his best friends banging on his door.

"No," was all he said, causing Jerry and Oliver to turn toward him—eyes bright and smiles trying too hard to convince him. "Not happening."

"Brother," Jerry breathed, coming toward him. "The first week is over. That's cause for celebration. The Penny is calling us."

"No, the Penny is calling you," he said, moving around him and then Oliver so he could unlock his door. "My couch is calling me. And, let me tell you something, I'm going to answer that call."

"Sammy," Oliver said, following him inside. "We went a whole year, just the two of us. You're back now, so you're coming. It's Friday night."

"Where's your girlfriend, Oliver?" Sam asked, leaning against his wall. "I'm sure she's looking for you."

"No, she's not," he shook his head. "She's not. She's out with some work friends. She couldn't care less where I am. I care where you are, though, and I don't think the couch cares as much about you as you think it does. Jerry and me, though, we care. We care enough to drag your sad ass to the Penny."

"Sammy!" Jerry yelled, dropping his fist onto the kitchen counter. "You're coming. Let's go."

Oliver looked up at him with a hopeful smile while Jerry glared at him, waiting more for a movement than an answer. So, Sam let out a breath and shrugged. "Fine," he said, zipping up his sweatshirt. "But I'm not driving."

"Cab it is," Oliver announced. "Because that's how we got here and we assumed you'd drive. No worries. We're off."

Sam rolled his eyes, but followed them back to the hallway and then out to the sidewalk. Jerry was able to flag down a cab within seconds and the three of the squished into the backseat as Jerry told the driver the name of the bar. Sam rested his head against the cool glass of the window, already missing the comfort of his couch and the free beer in his fridge.

They climbed out—very ungracefully—outside of the Penny and Sam groaned at the line of people outside. They weren't waiting to get inside—the Penny wasn't that kind of place—but just the sight of that many people meant that the inside would be full of people he didn't know and didn't care to. He watched as Jerry and Oliver nodded to a number of the people he was complaining about and followed them inside.

It actually wasn't all that busy inside. The people outside were probably the bulk of the patrons and they were mostly ruining their lungs with cigarettes. Whatever it was, he didn't mind the clear path to the bar or the fact that his favorite beer was on tap after they were out the night before. He ordered three for him and his friends and slid the two down the bar. Oliver threw down his card, telling Liam to keep his tab open, and put his free hand on Sam's shoulder to direct him toward an empty table.

As Sam followed his lead, he heard a loud laugh and then felt a sturdy back hit his elbow. "Come on, really?" He sighed, turning to see who it was that spilled his beer down the front of his shirt.

The laugh came from Chris Diaz, one of the freshmen in Boyko's Tuesday/Thursday class, but the back that hit him belonged to the one and only Andy McNally. Her eyes were shooting daggers at her friends, but they slowly swept the room until they met his.

"One of these days, I'm not going to physically run into you," she promised him and despite the dripping from his shirt, he smiled. "Seriously, one of these days, I'm going to have a reason to stop apologizing to you."

"I can't help but notice that you haven't apologized yet," he said and her jaw dropped in mock shock.

"That was implied, Sir," she spat before breaking out in a fit of giggles. His eyebrows shot up as he watched her regain her composure. He could tell she was sober, but her friends were all still laughing a few feet away. It looked like she was doing as he told her—having fun and sticking with her friends.

"Don't worry about it, okay?"

She stopped laughing, but smiled up at him, narrowing her eyes. He felt a little uncomfortable under her scrutiny and when he looked over at his friends, Jerry was on his way toward Traci while Oliver was looking from Sam to Andy and then back again.

"You're nice," she said finally and Oliver laughed, earning him a dirty look from Sam until he put his hands up in defense and sat down.

"Thank you?" Sam said to Andy and she shrugged her shoulder and bit her lip.

"To me, at least," she finished and it was his turn to shrug.

She wasn't wrong. For whatever reason, the two of them had hit it off and he had been especially kind to her. Not that he was unkind to anyone else, but there was a special attention he was paying toward her. It was only obvious to him now, but it had clearly been weighing on her mind.

"Why is that?" She asked, taking a sip of her drink. "Why me?"

"I don't really know what you mean, Andy," he lied, taking his own drink. He wasn't about to tell her that she challenged him and he liked that about her. He wasn't going to say that she was quick on her feet and that he respected that. He wasn't going to admit that he liked having her around even if it was just in class or walking to the dining hall. He couldn't say any of those things. Hell, he'd only known her for five days. And she was a freshman.

"Okay," she said, deflating now. She looked behind her, right at her friends, and they were all talking to each other. They were oblivious to what was transpiring between the two of them right now. "Want to know secret?" She asked, looking at the space on the floor that remained between them.

"Uh, yeah, I guess," he whispered. He wasn't quite sure he wanted to know what she was going to say or why he was whispering in a loud bar, but when she looked at him again he remembered how, despite their first class together, he wanted to know more about her the second she opened her mouth. "Yes," he said loudly, more confidently.

"One of these days," she said again with a smile. "I'm going tell you why I'm nice to you and why I'm glad you're nice to me."

Sam could feel his eyes widen involuntarily and could see the surprise on her own face. Maybe she was drunk and his first impression was just plain wrong. "But not tonight," she shrugged her shoulder.

He knew what that very shoulder felt like and he remembered the look on her face earlier in the day when he realized he had been holding onto it for so long. It didn't look like she minded until he took his hands off of her.

"One of these days," he said, stealing the turn of phrase she'd used. "I'm going to want to hear that." The smile that graced her lips was real and he could see a light in her eyes that he hadn't seen before."But, you're right."

"Not tonight," she finished, still smiling, and he nodded. "I'm glad I bumped into you. Literally."

"I could've gone without the wet shirt, but… the rest wasn't so terrible," he agreed.

"I'm going to go now," she said, hitching a thumb over her shoulder. "Looks like I'll see you around."

"Yeah, see you around."

She flashed one last smile his way and he watched her until she was sitting with her back toward him.

"Dude," Oliver said from behind him. "You're so screwed."

As soon as Andy sat down, she felt the last few minutes talking with Sam rush through her. What the hell had she been thinking? Did someone slip something into her Diet Coke? She dared to look back at Sam's table, but his back was to her and pounded her palm against her forehead a few times until Dov had to pull it away.

"What's up?" He asked. Thankfully everyone else was occupied because she really didn't want to deal with their prying eyes at the moment. Dealing with Dov was bad enough.

"I may have just ruined my entire college career before it started," she told him quietly and his eyebrows shot up. "I think I had a stroke. I just soberly almost admitted something that I can't admit to someone I shouldn't even be associating with on a social level," she babbled.

"What the hell are you talking about, Andy?"

Her shell-shocked eyes searched his confused ones and she rubbed both palms over her face furiously. "I have a crush on someone," she told him quietly.

"I kind of figured," he shrugged. "I don't know women all that well, but I know enough to realize what you're dealing with. So, what happened? You… Almost told him?"

"I almost did," she nodded. "I mean, I basically told him everything. I wasn't very subtle."

"Why is it such a big deal?"

Andy thought about it and couldn't quite pinpoint why telling Sam would be such a terrible thing. Now that she couldn't deny her feelings for him to herself, why would it be bad to admit them to him? She wasn't so sure that he felt the same way, but he definitely didn't seem disgusted by the fact. Plus, he was the one who kept his hands on her shoulders that day and the one who so casually guided her to the dining hall with his hand on the small of her back. He was always there and, yeah, she was the one who was running into him, he was the one that made the conversation. He seemed to like having her around just as much as she liked being around him.

He was an adult, though. Like, a real adult with real responsibilities. Why would he ever think of a freshman the way that Andy was thinking about him? He was an adult and he was gorgeous. Andy probably was just a blip on his radar, a pretty face to look at while he waited for an even prettier, adult face.

"He'll never feel the same about me," she told Dov and he put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side for a quick hug.

"Want me to get you a drink?" He asked. "Something a little stronger than that Diet Coke?"

"Something with a little rum in it, maybe," she said and he smiled, hopping from his seat. She turned toward the bar to see if there was a line that would hold him up. There wasn't, but there was a redhead and he had already started walking toward her. Andy's drink had already been forgotten, but at least Dov had a chance with that girl.