I was driving back to campus with Rhoda filling up my car with smoke in the passenger's seat when my phone started blowing up. Probably Sarah complaining I was late for lunch or something.

I really didn't want to go eat a crappy fish sandwich with that annoying girl. I would much prefer to stay with Rhoda. Maybe we could have more sex. Maybe we'd do it in the car. I would feel very proud of myself if I could do a girl in my car.

I picked up my phone and glanced down at the screen, taking my eyes off the road. "Car," Rhoda alerted me calmly.

I looked up quickly and swerved away from an angry red Honda barrelling my way, then looked at my phone again. Michael's name kept popping up over and over. I realized I'd never taken out all those stupid hearts from when he entered his number.

I glanced at the texts, seeing a lot of exclamation points and spelling errors, and instead tapped to call. "I need-" he practically shouted.

"Stop texting me," I said. "I'm driving."

"Car," said Rhoda.

I swerved again. This time it was a blue Ford.

"I'm hanging up, Michael," I said.

"No-"

I ended the call and dropped my phone into the console. "Everything okay?" asked Rhoda as she rolled down the window to toss her cigarette out onto the pavement. I envied how chill she was all the time.

I shrugged and made a wide loop into my building's lot, trampling the grass growing along the side of the road. I really was the world's worst driver.

It was only when I slowed down by my spot, same as where I got hit the night of Amy's party, that I saw him. Michael standing in the parking lot, next to his car, or at least what was left of it. "Jesus," I said.

"Yo," said Rhoda. "That don't look pretty."

I parked right next to him, trying to get a look at his face. He was staring at his phone. I opened my door cautiously, then got out, and Rhoda got out too, walking around the front to my side. I glanced at Michael, then flicked my gaze to his car.

The windshields and windows of the car were entirely smashed, rearview mirrors just gone, tires slashed, and the hood had five lines scraped down it, right together. There was a nice fuck you scratched in, and the word fag across the side.

Rhoda stood next to me, blinking. "Who..." she started.

Michael looked directly at me, and I stepped back, wondering for a split second if he was going to accuse me. "My fucking psycho cunt of an ex is who."

"Kitty?" I guessed immediately.

"Don't say that bitch's name."

"Damn," Rhoda said. "She went all Carrie Underwood on you, man. Did she get all the tires? Or just three of them?"

He blinked at her in confusion but went around to check. "This one's okay," he said from the other side.

"You need to slash the last one," Rhoda told him.

He crossed his arms. "Why would I slash my own tire? And who are you?"

"I'm... uh..." She turned to me. I shrugged hopelessly. "A friend?"

He nodded slowly. "Got it."

"She's right though," I said. "About the tires. They make you pay for it if they're not all slashed. Speaking of which." I pulled my keys out of my pocket and walked over to the side of the car, then started harshly scratching over the writing.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Michael shouted, his eyes looking murderous.

"You a favor," I muttered, and kept scratching.

He marched around the car and I sighed heavily as he grabbed my wrist. "Well, stop, okay?"

I took a step backward and stuffed my keys into my pocket. "Look," I said. "I'm sorry about your stupid car. But if it was Kitty, then you really should have seen it coming. We both know how actually insane she is."

"I kinda wanna meet this girl now," said Rhoda. "This is pretty epic."

Michael stared at her. "She's not epic," he said. "She'd stab you in the throat with her eyebrow scissors for looking at her funny."

"What are eyebrow scissors?" I asked.

"They're little scis-" Rhoda started.

"Can you guys shut up?" Michael shouted. "You're being so fucking annoying, just get the fuck out of here if you're not going to do anything."

Angrily, I gave him a shove. He knocked against the car then pushed me back, nearly knocking me off my feet.

"Why don't you back off," Rhoda snapped, marching over to us. He was at least a foot taller and probably outweighed her by close to a hundred pounds, but she looked up at him fiercely all the same.

"Shut up, bitch," he said.

With those words, it was like something in my brain snapped. "Stop it!" I shouted at him. I grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him back again, fully placing myself between him and Rhoda.

"Fuck off," he said, slamming his forearm into my ribs. I let go and stumbled back a few steps, sucking in my breath. Then I ran back up and, making a fist, punched him as hard as I possibly could in the middle of the face.

It was a good hit; he hadn't been expecting it. His head whipped back and cracked against the car, and then he stood up, covering where his nose bled down into his mouth.

I felt like I'd just crushed every bone in my hand and it was all I could do to keep from crying out in pain. I jumped away from him before he could hit me back and wrapped my arms around Rhoda protectively. Michael laughed. "What is this?" he said. "Are you trying to be all tough in front of her? There's so many ways you can do that without breaking my nose."

"Stay the fuck away from us," I hissed. "You fucking psychopath."

He laughed again and smeared some blood across the back of his hand. "Whatever you say, buddy."

I didn't reply, just backed up and led Rhoda safely to my car, her arms around me.

I waited for her to get in the car to back up out of the lot, my hands still shaking. "I punched him in the face," I whispered. Why did punch him? I liked him. Maybe I'd imagined things wrong in my head. Maybe I was so used to my dad going after me and Sarah that I'd just thought that was what he was doing.

"That was so, so hot, you defending me like that," Rhoda said, laying her head back against the seat. "What was it even about? His ex? They both seem crazy."

"Rhoda?" I murmured. "How many claws do cats have?"

"How the hell would I know?"

"Is it five?" I wondered aloud. "It might sound crazy, but maybe those five scratches were supposed to be cat claws."

"On the car?"

"Yeah. The girl... if it's the right one... she's, like, obsessed with cats. I think she thinks she is one."

Rhoda giggled. "This bitch is next-level."

I drove to Rhoda's building and parked outside so I could walk her up to her room door. I didn't want to go back to my place, especially with Michael the way he was, so maybe I'd go straight to the caf for lunch. Sarah wasn't ringing my phone off the hook yet, so I calculated I had a little time to spare.

"You're gonna be okay, right?" I asked Rhoda, taking her hand as we stood in the hallway.

She nodded. "Yeah, don't worry about me. I'm tough. I'll be fine. I'm not really hurt, just like, shaken up, you know?"

I looked down at my knuckles, stained with blood. "Can I come inside and wash my hands?"

"Oh yeah, of course."

She opened the door and I followed her inside, looking around the room. Lights and posters of scary-looking dudes in jewelry and all-black clothing covered the walls. It smelled like vanilla and cinnamon.

"I'm by myself," she explained, clasping her hands together. "And I'm so, so stoked about it. The girl I was with got, like, homesick or something and dropped out, and nobody else wanted the room, so I get to do whatever I want with it, bring in whoever I want, play whatever music I wanna play..."

I looked over at the empty, seemingly untouched bed across the room. She probably had guests a lot. Maybe I could be one of them. Maybe I could just move in with her, period.

"Bathroom's right there," she said, pointing. I went in and turned on the faucet, scrubbing my hands under the water. I felt sick looking at the blood swirling down the drain. But Michael would be fine, right? He was probably more concerned with his car than the punch.

Still, I didn't even want to think about what things would be like tonight.

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"Oh my god, Ben," Sarah said after I was finished telling her my punching-Michael-story. "That's all so insane. I- I never expected that." We'd both gotten mini sandwiches from the caf and were sitting outside.

I scoffed. "Why, you didn't think I could fight him?"

"No," she said. She took a bite of her chicken sandwich. "So, what do you think the freak's gonna do to you?"

None of the things I wanted him to now.

"I dunno," I said. I obviously wasn't about to let on to Sarah about how attracted I was to him, but all that was meaningless if he now despised me. Why'd Kitty called him a fag anyway? Did that mean he openly dated men? Would he have wanted to date me?

"Just be careful," Sarah interrupted my thoughts, widening her eyes. "You never know what people will do when they snap." She nodded to the sandwich. "This is so good by the way, do you want to try it?"

"No thanks," I said. "I'm not really hungry."

I'd half-blindly grabbed an egg salad, but I was repulsed by the thought of any food right now, especially eggs. Eggs could only be eaten scrambled in my opinion, with a pound of hot sauce.

"Look," I said suddenly. "I just remembered I gotta be somewhere. I'll call you later, okay?"

"Okay," she said doubtfully. "Ben, I have to say. I'm a little worried about you..."

"Don't be," I muttered. "I'm fine." I made sure to turn the corner before ditching the sandwich. I didn't need Sarah commenting on my lack of eating.

I unlocked my phone on my way to class and opened the conversation with Rhoda to ask her what she was doing tonight.

ummm nothing why?

I sat down in a row farther back into the room, next to a tall, bearded guy with a nasty-sounding cough, and looked down at my phone again.

i kinda want to get my mind off things and you said we should go out..

oh damn i didnt think u wanted to 2nite 😂 do u have a fake id?

no.... do i get one?

In response, she sent me a voice memo. "Oh god, am I corrupting you?" I smiled at the sound of her laughter. It was pretty. "So, my buddy Vaughn made mine pretty good, he can probably whip another up in no time."

I paused to glance up at the professor, then smirked at the text I sent.

tell him to make my height at least 5'9.

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Vaughn probably could have been some cool hacker guy living in a mobile home filled entirely with technology if he didn't sit around smoking weed and reading government conspiracies all day. He gave me a little card with a bunch of random information on it and said to hope the bartender wore glasses.

Rhoda and I went around getting approval from practically her whole hall before lighting up two cigs and leaving. I didn't call Sarah like I'd promised. I just wanted to go have fun without her for once.

There were two bars in town. Rhoda picked the one where every cool kid hung out at night. The other was reserved for lonely old people. I wondered if someday, she might end up as one of those lonely old people.

"Okay," she said, goofily brandishing her Vaughn-ID as we entered the establishment. "Inspection time." She was around the height of most freshmen in high school, not college, and me... well, I kept my head down the whole time.

Literally no one asked for ID.

We both got shots of vodka and I'd figured it wouldn't be long till she was tipsy, just based purely on her size. "What should we drink to?" she asked, twirling her finger around her glass.

"Um," I said blankly. "You. Drink to you. You're pretty cool."

She snickered. "Alright then. To me?" She raised her glass and I did too, a second later than I probably should have, and clinked them together.

I hesitated to drink, watching her throw her head back and take the shot, and then before she looked at me again I followed suit, wincing at the burn. I hadn't eaten anything today except a couple bites of cereal, so I expected to be drunk fast.

"Hey, wanna dance?" she asked me when the music playing stopped. "We need to drink more first though, then my moves come out." She wiggled her eyebrows and I laughed.

I started to say "sure" but the sudden loud beat of the new song drowned out my voice. "Sure!" I yelled.

She grabbed my hand and led me to the dance floor, while a whole bunch of other people did the same. I recognized a few from a couple classes, but their faces grew hazy. I gripped Rhoda's waist and turned her around and we danced for the rest of the song, her leaning back into my neck. She smiled and pushed back, grinding against me, her hands running through her own hair.

For a while, I just lost myself in the music and the dancing and I started realizing why everyone did this so often. We went back to the bar after the song and I got two more shots, and Rhoda got one. I could tell she was drunk and I was feeling the alcohol too. It wasn't enough. I needed to be drunk. I picked up the bottle when the bartender set it down and poured my own refill.

"Hello, pretty," I heard a deep voice snarl somewhere to my side.

Oh, hell no.

I peeked over the brim of my glass to a tall, scruffy-looking guy in a plaid, this ugly vest over it, and jeans resting his hand on Rhoda's shoulder. "May I have the honor of this next dance?"

I slammed the glass down and forced myself around, pushing past her to get close to his face. "She's fucking dancing with me, asshole."

His lip curled slightly. He looked to be in his mid to late twenties, so why he was partying with a bunch of college kids was beyond me. "Woops," he sneered. "Didn't see ya there, pal."

My blood boiled. "Fuck you!" I yelled. I jumped at him, latching my nails onto the sides of his throat. He gasped and stumbled back, slumping into the bar. I didn't want to punch him, if for no other reason than I'd already punched one person today and my hand hurt, but I still gripped his face with one hand and raised the other in a fist, trying to look as threatening as possible.

"Okay, okay," he choked. "My bad."

I let go of him and walked back to Rhoda to have another drink. "Sorry," I muttered.

"I think it's hot when guys are possessive," she said.

I wrinkled my nose. "I wasn't being possessive," I said. "I was... saving you. From that creep."

She laughed. "I don't really need saving, but okay. C'mon. Forget him."

The crowd closed in on us and began to feel like one big wave of people moving together. In the next break, I looked through the wall of kids bouncing around and saw a big group sitting at a table towards the back of the club. I immediately spotted Michael among them, talking to some girl sitting on his lap. I wondered if he'd seen my heroic feat.

I knew he was probably mad at me, but I was drunk now, I'd kind of just fought someone, and I was staring dead at the man that was on my mind 24/7. "Rhoda, let's go, c'mon, c'mon," I mumbled, tugging her out of the circle of drunk dancers.

She fell against me as we stumbled over, grabbing onto each other. "Oh, my god, it's him," she whispered. "Psycho."

I giggled and stopped abruptly in front of the table, almost falling over. "Hi," I said breathlessly.

Michael looked over his shoulder with an annoyed expression and retracted his hand from the girl's body where he'd been feeling her up. "Oh, you two. Lovely."

I wasn't too drunk to understand that meant he wasn't happy to see me. Probably because I punched him. Or because I was infringing on his friend group like a lost puppy.

"So," an angry-looking guy sitting across the table said. "Who the fuck are you and why the fuck are you over here?"

Everyone in the circle laughed. The guy who'd spoken wiped his nose aggressively.

"My new roommate," Michael answered for me when I said nothing. There were a couple sinister chuckles. Nose guy bumped his elbow into the dude next to him and nodded. "Anway, they were just going," Michael said. He smiled tightly. "Goodbye."

"Hold on, hold on," his friend said cheerily. "Let 'em sit down. Want a drink, kid? Yeah, you want a drink."

I wobbled over to the chair while he stood up and started making his way around the table. "Hey," Michael said as I brushed his arm with mine. "Hey." He snapped his fingers at me. "Look at me. Look at my face. Do I look like I want to spend another second of my life around you?"

"I'm sor-" I started.

"Jesus, kid, take a seat before you pass out," the nose-itching guy said, and shoved me into the chair so roughly I almost yelped. "You, my fine lady..." he purred to Rhoda, "can sit with me."

"No!" I yelled, grabbing her arm.

"Hugo, didn't you know?" Michael said dryly. "This fine lady belongs to our dear friend Benjamin. Better leave her alone."

"I thought someone was getting me a drink," I said, burying my face in Rhoda's wavy hair as she collapsed onto my lap.

"You seem really drunk," Hugo said. "How many you had?"

"Twenty," I lied, then laughed.

"Damn," he said.

I looked around at the faces with a plastered-on grin and thought about the right thing to say. "N-no," I said as convincingly as possible. "I'm okay."

"I'd like another drink, too," said the girl with Michael, and I looked over to smile at her too. She had pastel pink hair and glittery eyeshadow, which sparkled as I did my best to focus on her face instead of... other attractions. Two big ones, specifically.

"Count me in." As soon as the words left her mouth, Rhoda tipped over and facepalmed into the table. I frowned and touched her shoulder lightly. Guess she wasn't going to dance with me anymore. Maybe Pinky would take her place.

"Uh-huh," mumbled Hugo, and with a deep sniff he headed off.

Maybe he had a cold.

"Hey sweetie," said Michael when he was gone. That's me, I thought. "Why don't you just get out of here with your little girlfriend before you embarrass yourself more, hmm?"

"Are you mad I punched you?" I asked, slurring the words. "'Cuz I... I didn't... um, I just-"

He shook his head and rolled his eyes, then turned back to Pinky. "How 'bout you and I-" he began.

"Oh, shut up, Mike," she said, shoving him away. She got up, making her boobs bounce, and leaned over the back of my chair so her shiny face was right next to mine. "He's right, you should get out of here. Maybe with me."

I couldn't even pleasure a woman sober and concentrating, so I shuddered to think how I would fare in this state. "Okay," I agreed anyway.

It was then that Hugo reappeared and passed the new drinks out to everyone. I got one sip in before Pinky scooped mine up and downed the rest herself.

Damn you, I thought. I dropped my arm from around her and lied my head on her boob like a pillow as she swayed to the music, making a light bounce off my glass and aim straight into my eye.