I start my long walk through the quad, heading to my first class of the day. The sprawling campus feels eerily quiet in the early morning, save for the distant hum of leaf blowers and the occasional bird song. Tall oak trees line the wide stone pathways, their branches swaying gently in the crisp fall breeze. Golden leaves scatter across the ground, collecting at the base of old, ivy-covered buildings that seem to whisper stories of students past. The cool morning air bites at my skin but does little to wake me up—my eyes are heavy from another sleepless night.
The quad is vast, stretching out before me like a canvas of grass dotted with benches and towering statues of the university's founders. Clusters of students mill about in the distance, some briskly making their way to class while others lounge lazily on the dewy grass, soaking in the last warm rays of the season. Beyond the quad, the gothic arches of the library loom like a fortress of knowledge, its stained-glass windows glowing faintly with the first light of day.
But none of this distracts me from my exhaustion. Why am I so tired? Because I live with a primadonna, who could make Rhonda Lloyd look like an amateur. Evie, with her perfectly curated morning rituals, insists on playing these bizarre sleep frequencies or something every night—supposedly to help her relax. All they do is keep me wide awake, the sound of droning vibrations drilling into my skull until morning. Typical.

A voice cuts through the haze of my sleep-deprived mind. "Helga!" It's not Evie this time. For a second, I half-expect Jason—his mysterious, poetic aura always making him seem like he's ready to pop out of the shadows. But instead, I turn and freeze. My books nearly slipped from my grasp.

At a huge school—a university, for crying out loud—I somehow manage to run into Arnold Shortman. And it's like time hasn't even passed. It has the same messy blonde hair and the same piercing green eyes that seem a little too happy to see me. He has the same athletic build, although he's taller now. Taller and more... put together.
He slows as he approaches and stops a few inches in front of me. His eyes" briefly flicker down my form, catching his breath. "Hey, um, what are you doing here?" I manage, still reeling from the shock.
"I transferred here a few weeks ago," he says, shifting his backpack to his side. There's a flicker of something in his eyes as they dart over me—taking in the small differences that two years apart have made.
"Right..." I mutter. I don't know what else to say. There's a mix of emotions, none of which I'm ready to unpack in the middle of the quad. Part of me feels elated like some long-buried, childish crush is surfacing again. The other part feels disappointed. I spent so long trying to build a life outside of that old identity, and now here he is, bringing it all back.
"You look different," he says after a beat, his voice softer than I remember. There's something... nostalgic in the way he's looking at me.
I cross my arms, aware that his eyes follow the movement, before snapping back to my face. "Oh yeah? What's that supposed to mean?" I raise an eyebrow, trying to keep my voice light.

He smiles, his gaze dropping briefly to the ground. Was he...nervous? Arnold Shortman? "You look good," he says quietly. "Not that you didn't before, but...you know."
I could put him out of his misery, but where's the fun in that? Watching him squirm is... new. He used to be so smooth, so calm and collected. Now, he's stumbling over compliments like some first-year student with a crush. It's kind of endearing.
I shrug, playing it off. "Yeah, well, you look the same." Which he does, and yet—God, I'm not about to give him that satisfaction. I bet plenty of girls have told him how good he looks already.
Arnold's eyes linger on me for a moment before he nods. "Well, it was good seeing you. Maybe I'll see you around." With that, he turns and heads off in the opposite direction, leaving me standing there, caught somewhere between my past and present.
I walk away, too, forcing myself not to look back, though I can feel his gaze on me. Some things never change.

In philosophy class, we're split into pairs, which is the professor's twisted idea of a good time. My partner is a loudmouth know-it-all, but she quickly finds out that I'm not one to be outdone. Good for her. By the time class ends, I have a headache, but I also feel a weird sense of pride. My temper's better than it used to be, but it's still there when I need it.

(((((

Later, Jason's hands press me firmly but gently against the wall, his lips teasing mine with soft kisses. My fingers curl through his dirty blonde hair as I lean in, letting myself forget everything for a moment. His touch is grounding if nothing else.
Then, of course, there's Evie's shrill voice. "Helga, I need to get in there!"
Criminy, my roommate Evie Shields, could win an award for the most entitled person alive. She's rich, overly confident, and superficial—and I respect her for it. At least she owns it.
I pull away from Jason with a groan. "Sorry, my roommate."
Jason smirks, brushing his hair back. "I know. She cursed me out in French last week."
I laugh, even though Evie's still banging on the door. "She's got a way with words."
When I finally open the door, Evie barges in like a storm. "Can't you take your cockalorum to a motel or something?" she snaps, completely ignoring Jason, who's standing right there.
Jason gives her an awkward smile before turning to me. "See you soon," he says, planting a small kiss on my forehead before heading out.
Once the door shuts, I face Evie with a sigh. "Why do you have to be so rude?"
She shrugs, slipping into a pair of heels. "Oh, please. The boy's cute, but he has an air about him that I find utterly distasteful." She says it so casually, like it's nothing to toss off an insult—typical Evie.

"That's like a mirror calling out a reflection," I mumbled, watching her preen in front of the mirror like she was preparing for a runway.
She smirks at me through the glass. "I've earned my status," she says smugly before gliding out of the room.
I collapse onto my bed, feeling both sexually frustrated and slightly amused. College is a strange place, full of weird people, but I guess I fit right in.
By the time Vinessa shows up, I'm fully engrossed in a book, but her flustered energy pulls me right out of it. She paces, complaining about her latest confrontation with a professor. I listen for a while before cutting her off.

"Let's go get coffee," I suggest. "Maybe I can help with that paper."
We walk into a small, cozy café tucked into the corner of the campus. The shop has a rustic charm, with exposed brick walls and low-hanging pendant lights that cast a soft, golden glow across the wooden tables. The air smells of freshly ground coffee beans, with a hint of cinnamon from the pastries in the glass display case. The chairs are mismatched but comfortable, with old, faded cushions that seem to tell their own stories. Sunlight streams through the large windows, offering a view of the bustling campus outside.
We settle into a corner booth, where the leather is cracked from years of use but feels familiar and worn in, like the pages of a favorite book. I take a sip of my caramel latte, savoring the warmth as it flows down my throat, and finally let the news slip. "You wouldn't believe who I ran into today."
Vinessa raises an eyebrow, setting her oversized mug of chai latte down with a soft thud. "Who?"
"Remember that guy I told you about from high school?" I ask her in a low voice, drumming my fingers on the chipped wooden table.
She squints, thinking for a moment. "Arnie, right?"
"Arnold," I correct, wincing at how easily his name comes out.
"Right, Arnold," she says, leaning back into the booth. "So what, is he here?"
"Transferred a few weeks ago," I say, trying to sound casual as I stir the foam in my drink.
Vinessa shrugs, casting a glance around the shop. "Does that mean you're going to stop seeing Jason?"
I scrunch my face at the thought. "Hell no. Why would I do that?"
"You seemed pretty crazy over that Arnold guy back in the day." She picks up her muffin, tearing a piece off and popping it into her mouth.
"That's old news," I say, waving her off. But I can't ignore the small, knowing smile she gives me as she takes another sip of her chai, the steam curling around her face in the dim light.

Vinessa and I leave the coffee shop, still chatting about Arnold and my love life. As we walk across campus, we hear a commotion coming from the quad. Curious, we approach to find a small crowd gathered around what appears to be an impromptu dance performance. A group of students are performing an energetic flash mob routine to a popular song. The crowd is cheering and some bystanders are even joining in. I roll my eyes at the display, but Vinessa, excited by the energy, pulls me closer to watch. Suddenly, one of the dancers spins out of control and crashes into me, sending me stumbling backward. Just as I'm about to fall, a pair of strong hands catch me from behind. I whirl around, ready to unleash my signature sass on whoever grabbed me, only to find myself face-to-face with a surprised Arnold. Our eyes lock for a moment, both caught off guard by the unexpected proximity. Arnold's hands grasp at my arms for a second too long before he hastily lets go.
"Are you okay?" Arnold asks, his voice tinged with concern and something else I can't quite place.
Flustered but trying to maintain my cool demeanor, I straighten up and brush myself off. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just peachy. What are you doing here, Football Head? Following me?"
Arnold raises an eyebrow, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "Actually, I'm part of the dance group. We're raising awareness for the drama department's upcoming play."
My eyes widen in surprise. "You? Dancing? Since when?"
Before Arnold can respond, the dance captain calls out to him.
"Arnold! We need you back in formation!"
Arnold gives me an apologetic smile. "Duty calls. Maybe I'll see you at the play?" With that, he jogs back to the group, leaving me staring after him in disbelief.
Vinessa sidles up to me, an amused expression on her face. "So, that's Arnold, huh? Interesting..."
I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. "Let's get out of here," I grumble, dragging Vinessa away from the quad while acutely aware of Arnold's presence behind me. This spontaneous encounter adds a new layer to our dynamic, showing Arnold in a different light and leaving me conflicted about my feelings.