A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts for a few months now, so I thought I would turn it loose on the world now and just see what happens. The rating is tentative while I work through plot-points. Super fun change of pace from the other things I have going on, so I hope you enjoyed this beginning here. Do let me know what you thought and as always, I hope you have a great day! :)

Chapter One

Padmé Naberrie stared at her ceiling, silently counting the ceiling tiles in her dorm room as if they'd changed since the last time she'd checked. She tossed in the covers, flipping the duvet off of her and glancing at the alarm clock on the desk. Just past 2:00 am. She couldn't sleep. Finals were next week, and despite all her friends' assurances that she could handle a night out, she insisted they go without her, anyway. As usual. Even after her roommate Dormé tried to convince her that what she really needed to relax was someone tall, dark, and handsome. She didn't necessarily disagree with that, especially not now as she lay in bed trying to think of something to do with her hands and sleepless mind, but it wouldn't be some random person lurking around a bar, or worse–a frat house. And tall and handsome were fine, but she'd skip out on dark hair, dark eyes, dark anything else that would remind her of her stupid ex-boyfriend.

She was immediately ready to thank whoever was causing her phone to buzz when she heard it across the room. Then she remembered what time it was. Looking over the edge of her lofted bed, the device lit up atop the stack of notebooks in her desk chair that she'd banned herself from touching one more time tonight. She ran a hand over her face, deciding whether it was worth the effort to get up. Who could possibly be texting her right now, anyway? She knew her sorority sisters were nowhere near done for the night, and they were pretty much the only people that talked to her. Since she broke up with Palo, most days her phone functioned better as a paperweight than a means of communication. After the third buzz, she mustered the energy to figure out what was so urgent in the middle of the night.

Three notifications from Tinder lit up on her screen. That forsaken app she meant to delete months ago, only downloading it to appease her friends. A match, two messages. Eager much? she thought to herself as she tapped the app to see who the owner of the "Hey. You up?" message was. Her eyes widened, realizing that at some point she'd swiped right on Mr. Tall and Handsome himself. Anakin Skywalker, blonde-haired, blue-eyed, captain of the men's baseball team, and… frequent attendee of her weekly tutoring sessions. When and under what influence had she ever saw this man's profile, and better yet – why did he swipe back? Oh god… The three little dots reappeared before she'd even figured out what to say. She needed to respond before he dared to send a third message, or worse, an unsolicited picture.

Padmé: Hi! I'm up. You?

That may have been the stupidest thing she'd ever written, and she was responsible for a handful of horrendous typos in the campus newspaper already… Of course he's up, he's texting you. She smacked her forehead, getting back into bed to sit with her knees pulled into her chest. She rested her forehead against her legs, disappointed in herself already. Getting out of bed was a terrible idea.

Anakin: Ha yeah, kinda why I messaged, cause I'm up. Wyd?

She definitely had that one coming… She told Yané being on this app would be nothing but trouble. She'd have better luck standing around campus with a sign that said "Take me on a date" than she would by trying to navigate swiping, messaging, or hooking up. Example one, Anakin Skywalker.

Padmé: Laying in bed, so nothing. Wbu?

Anakin: Same

Riveting conversationalist… Guess that wasn't really the purpose of this interaction, though, was it? Maybe she'd just cut to the chase. There weren't too many translations for 'You up?' that she knew of except the universally acknowledged reason you send that – to see if someone wants to be 'up' and in your company. And well… as long as they were on the same page… She sent her reply before she could second-guess herself further, adding to the established embarrassment of it all.

Padmé: Alone?

Anakin: Yup. You?

Padmé: Roommate's out for the night. Bar crawl.

Anakin: Didn't wanna join?

Padmé: Not really my thing, no.

Anakin: Not mine either

She locked the screen and dropped the phone against the covers. Rolling her eyes, she thought to herself, Yeah, right. This coming from a man she'd personally seen passed out on the quad more times than she'd care to have noticed. And that excluded all the times he'd shown up, dark sunglasses on, hungover for their peer review writing sessions. Each of the sessions where she was forced to discern what he meant to say from the gibberish coming out of his mouth while discussing his paragraph structure, or citation mistakes. Which were plentiful. Or the few where his head actually slammed against the desktop, practically drooling on the pages of his book while she tried to carry on with her small group. Why was she even answering him in the middle of the night, knowing he only wanted one thing to begin with? And knowing who she was dealing with? Her phone buzzed again against her hip. Don't pick it up. Do not pick it up. She groaned, reaching around beneath the jersey cotton sheets to grab it again.

Anakin: Anyway you wanna grab coffee some time?

Wait, what? Coffee? He only wanted to get coffee with her?

Padmé: Coffee?

Anakin: Or tea or whatever those pink things with strawberries are that girls get from Starbucks

Anakin: Idk what you like but whatever it is

Padmé: I think you mean açaí refreshers. But okay, sure?

Anakin: Cool is the morning good? Meet outside the library?

Padmé: Are you asking me on a date?

Anakin: Well it's a dating app so.. unless you're here for something else?

Padmé: OH, no. Haha dating is all. Definitely just dating.

Why was she like this? That was a little too close for comfort. She wasn't sure what exactly she was still on the damn app for but she wouldn't, under any circumstance, let this man believe she was there regularly for casual hookups. Even if she was. Which… she wasn't. Maybe there was some kind of alternative meaning to the 'you up' message after all.

Anakin: Ok great

Anakin: By the way your pictures on here don't do you justice

Padmé blushed, looking at the message, still a little astonished he wasn't asking her to come over to his apartment. Especially not after telling her he was alone? And she was too? And now he was making her blush. Only a handful of messages into this chat and here they were. Maybe she should've been the one asking him to come over. She quickly scrapped that thought. Bad idea.

Padmé: Thank you. Yours… are pretty accurate, but maybe you're just that attractive.

She rolled her eyes at her own words. Unbelievable. She was going to kill Yané. And Dormé. And anyone else she'd ever heard encourage her to 'get back out there.'

Anakin: Doubtful. Still nothing compared to you, you look like an angel

Anakin: Fuck that was corny I'm so sorry. I wish this app had an undo and unsend option

She held the center of her chest, grinning like an idiot at the small message blobs staring up at her. This was stupid. There was no way Anakin Skywalker was interested in her for anything other than one thing. Unless he needed help on his next paper due or something… This would be an elaborate set-up for extra tutoring time, though. Whatever. It was coffee, not a marriage proposal. If it turned out to be bad, then she'd just refer him to another person in the writing center. No harm, no foul. Besides, he's just a guy. One listed (unofficially) as the sexiest guy on campus two years in a row, but still! A guy. That had just compared her to an angel. She slid down into the covers, pulling the sheet up over her head. Fantastic. She thrummed her fingers against the black screen, deciding on her next move. Before she had any more time to debate it with the better thinking part of her brain, she was typing again.

Padmé: No, it was cute. Thank you. Coffee. 9 am?

Anakin: Wouldn't miss it. See you in the morning

Padmé: I'll be waiting.

Okay, now it was time to die. Honestly. She would be waiting? This was not her first date, even if she was acting like it. For reasons she couldn't explain. First one with an all-star college athlete, sure. But she wasn't sixteen! This whole thing was already going horribly, and it hadn't even begun.

Anakin: Not if I'm waiting there first

Oh, no. T-R-O-U-B-L-E. She was in it now. Big time.