"Emergency, El! I need a dining companion for lunch today." Heather comes barreling in and throws herself on my bed.

Tracy rolls her eyes and grabs her things to leave but not before saying, "If she agrees please get her out of the fugly outfit."

Heather jumps right up and her eyes throw daggers at Tracy. "I like her outfit. How about you change your whorish one."

Tracy slams the door and Heather turns to me. "That's it, I'm getting you a new roommate. She's the worst. There is nothing wrong with the way you dress."

I look at my polka-dotted navy cardigan and navy striped shirt that's tucked into my green corduroy skirt. My black leggings don't really match but it's not like it looks bad.

At least I thought so.

"It's okay. We don't see much of each other anyway."

Heather has become really protective over me the past few days and oddly enough we've hung out every single day. She has this ability to talk, and I'm never left out of the conversations. Even when it's about people I don't know. She will fill me in on every tiny detail.

I had opened up to her about certain things. Like the issues I had with my ex and my need to be a penny pusher, which is why I'm looking at her with suspicion now.

"What?" she tries asking all innocently. "Oh, before we go." She digs into her bag. "I've made it official that I am your designated sister and even printed this out."

She takes out a piece of paper and unfolds it then pins it to my corkboard. "I figured this was a great way of establishing it since you're going to be a teacher and all."

It looks like a diploma reading Sister University then underneath It is hereby certified that Heather Carpenter is Elodie Mitchell's designated sister.

I laugh. "Okay, how much time did you take on this?"

"Too much. I may have failed my syllabus quiz for my Ethics class. Now come on, I need a lunch companion."

"First, how do you fail a syllabus quiz?"

"By not reading the syllabus."

"Second." I hold up two fingers. "I told you I made soup. It's fine."

She rolls her eyes at me. "You've had that every day this week. Don't worry I have so many points I could take you to lunch every day of the year." Taking off Tariq's jacket from the hanger, she throws it right on top of my desk. "Think of it like this. You'll be doing me a huge favor. There's this guy in my Ethics class who has not stopped bothering me. I need you by my side so it's not so awkward."

"Maybe if you tell him you failed the syllabus quiz, he'll leave you alone."

She narrows her eyes at me, pretending to be angry and places her hands on her hips. "No, he would probably suggest we study together." She puts quotes around study.

"Maybe that's a good thing. Then you won't fail anymore quizzes."

She pats my head. "Oh, sweetie. No guy wants to actually study when they suggest that. They always have ulterior motives."

"Please remember I did have a boyfriend. I'm not that naïve."

She cocks a brow. "You are. How long did you and Kenny date for?"

"Six months."

"How far did you two go?"

My face heats up. "Kissing, which is probably why—"

"Don't finish that sentence. His fault, not yours. Now about lunch."

"Fine." I relinquish. "But this isn't going to happen often, okay?"

She opens my door and makes a sweeping bow. "Yes, your highness."

We walk to the dining commons and Heather talks as people greet her. She's friendly to everyone and every person I've met genuinely likes her. At the dining commons it's no different and as soon as we sit down some random people join us. I know none of them, but the conversation flows easily, and jokes are thrown around. I sit back and watch, eating quietly yet enjoying myself.

The guy from her Ethics class is here, so at least I know she hadn't been lying. He has that slick preppy style and is laying it on thick with lame compliments. She effortlessly dodges them with ease. I wish I had that kind of skill. I'm either too snarky or weird with my comebacks.

"So, Elodie what are you majoring in?" A rather short guy asks. He's cute with a big toothy grin, short brown hair, and matching eyes.

"Oh, ah, I'm Early Education. Future teacher." I sing the last part out.

He shoves food in his mouth. "That's cool. Communications. I'm Kyle. You like basketball?"

Not really, but I want to be polite since he didn't give me that typical weird look I get for my random singing. "Yeah."

"Cool, cool. I'm on the team. Point guard." He points his fork at himself, and I guess this is where I'm supposed to be impressed.

"Wow, that's—"

"You should come to a game sometime," he interrupts. "See me in action." He winks while chewing aggressively as if he hates his food.

"Oh my gosh! Is that Tariq Araneo's jacket on the back of your chair?" Both Kyle and I turn to the girl sitting beside Heather. She practically lunges out of her seat and snatches it right off my chair, holding it up in awe. "How did you get this?"

Heather groans loudly. "Why is this such a big deal? He's lending it to, El."

"You're friends with Tariq?" Kyle questions with a furrowed brow.

I pause.

Am I?

I mean he jokes about it but?

I go for the safe answer. "Yeah?"

"Is that a problem?" Heather asks tightly and her demeanor changes drastically. Her posture stiff, shoulders tense, and eyes narrowed.

Kyle shrugs. "Just that you should be careful around him, that's all I'm saying. You girls fawn over him like he's some god, so you ignore the rumors."

Heather's whole body goes rigid, her hand clenching around her plastic cup. "I'm really good friends with Tariq and I know firsthand those rumors are garbage."

"Yeah, and how would you know?" Kyle spits back. "Were you there that night?"

Heather shoots up and throws her kale and mango smoothie right in Kyle's face, getting some of the others in the process.

Not a good day to have the Super Smoothies on the menu.

For Kyle.

She chucks her cup right on the table and it bounces, hitting him square in the face.

"What the hell," he shouts, jumping up covered in the green slimy substance.

Heather storms off and I scurry up after her abandoning my food as I get my things, ripping Tariq's jacket from the girl. Heather slams her palm on the heavy door bulldozing through it. By the time I catch up to her she's cradling her hand and staring down at her palm.

"I think it's going to bruise." It's the first time I've seen Heather's eyes so... lost. A harsh laugh escapes her lips. "I did that to him too when I first met him."

I'm confused. "Kyle?"

"Paul," she whispers, dropping her hand to her side. She turns and gives me a small smile I know all too well.

Forced and pained with loss.

"Sorry about that. How about we go back to my place, and I trim your bangs for you, maybe give you some layers? I know you've been talking about needing a haircut."

I can't leave Heather alone in this state, so I agree walking beside her. I know there's nothing I can say to ease the pain because I'm living with it. So instead of talking, I silently stay by her side hoping there's comfort in it.

But I can't help wondering what rumors Kyle had been talking about.

And who's Paul?

It's great to have my bangs out of my eyes. My eye is still pretty ugly, but the swelling is almost gone. It went from black and blue to a yellowish color, which means it's near the end of the healing process.

I'm no longer getting weird looks, so there's probably no need for me to wear Tariq's magical jacket, except for it being chilly. I have my own supply of cozy coats, but every time I leave my room, I grab his jacket without even thinking about it.

It's odd.

People say hi to me I don't even know when I walk to classes, and I'm now known as the girl who wears Tariq's jacket.

I walk into my night class, which is English Literature. I am in for a rough night because this is a three-hour-long one. English is my worst subject and I'd rather have to sit through it once a week, even if the class is ridiculously boring.

I take a seat at an empty table organizing my stuff and combing my fingers through my smooth hair. The layers Heather gave me are exactly what I wanted. They make my heavier hair lighter and bouncier.

Looking around I'm relieved to see that the classroom is small and could fit maybe ten people. Only four of us are here right now. It's the first day of this class so I don't know who's in it yet. Probably freshman since it's a course requirement.

I stare at the big whiteboard and hit my pencil against my notebook with the syllabus lying next to me. We were told to print it off and review it before coming to class so we could get right into whatever we'd be learning. What's nice about this night class is that it makes the countdown to winter break seem not too far away.

Not that I have any reason to really be excited about it.

The professor hasn't arrived yet and the other three girls chat with each other, clearly friends who decided to take the course together.

The girls gasp and when I glance up my eyes widen at the sight of Tariq standing right in the doorway. His corded arms relaxed by his sides, stance dominating with his backpack slung over his shoulder, and coal eyes gleaming from the touch of the smirk on his face. He crosses his arms over that large chest as he immediately gets circled by the three girls. One even touches his arm straightening her back, making his eyes dart down to her chest.

What is with these girls always sticking their boobs out?!

I try acting like I'm busy reading over the syllabus, hiding my face with it, hoping he doesn't notice me. I peer up in time to see a guy who looks a lot like Tariq come behind him. Same brows, skin tone, and mouth but differently shaped eyes with the other guy's a little wider and further apart. He's also slightly smaller and skinnier than Tariq. Both have ink-black hair though that's styled similarly. In that James Dean kind of way.

My hands start cramping from holding up the syllabus for so long, especially with how my elbows are positioned on the table.

I'm getting the reviled elbow tingles.

My brows pinch together as someone slides into the seat beside mine, and all it takes is that intoxicating ginger scent wafting over for me to know exactly who it is.

"Did you really think you could hide behind a syllabus?" His voice does things to me, and I don't like it.

It's deep.

Rough yet smooth.

Gravely.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I say flipping the paper over to study it thoroughly. I don't read a single word and it's about as useful as the Chinese instructions for putting a toy together.

"You got a haircut." He takes a lock of my hair and tugs on it.

My cheeks warm. "Yep."

He starts playing with my hair, which immediately makes my eyes feel heavy.

I love it when people play with my hair.

The other guy sits next to him filling up the rest of the table. "Rasheed this is Blue," Tariq introduces.

Rasheed stretches out his hand and for the sake of being polite, I abandon my syllabus to shake it. "The singing girl who got into a fight with a football. Your eye looks good."

I let go of his hand and smile, wishing I had looked at the class list to prepare myself for this.

I pull my long cardigan sleeves and fist them. "Yeah, it's pretty much healed up. Still not wanting to put a contact in it though."

Tariq leans back putting his arms behind his head and my eyes can't help but stare. A simple black V-neck shirt that stretches and hugs every muscle on his stomach.

I'm sweating.

I quickly avert my eyes before I get caught and push my glasses up wondering if they could steam up from my blush.

"You're cute with glasses."

My stupid stomach does a summersault.

This time I can't stop touching the very thing he's talking about and grip the side of my glasses with nervous fingers.

"They're a little loose so I'm excited to start wearing contacts again."

"No complaint here," Tariq says as his eyes closed like he's ready to fall asleep. "I definitely prefer seeing those big blues of yours on full display." He opens one eye and winks at me.

"Stop trying to charm me! It's not going to work."

Ha!

Welcome back Elodie. Where have you been?

Rasheed laughs, "Don't let his teasing get to you. He does it with everyone."

"Even you?" I joke.

Rasheed chokes on the water bottle he's drinking, then laughs. "Okay, not everyone, just the ladies," then he whispers to Tariq, "I can see why you want to be friends with her."

Another summersault. "Nah he wants to be friends with me because I'm the only female to ever say no to a request of his."

Tariq leans forward, his arm brushing against mine. "You're pretty sure of yourself, huh? Hate to break it to you, but you will cave. I'm confident in that." My eyes latch onto his sculpted bicep and tattoos peek out from under his shirt's sleeves.

I jump at the sound of the professor's voice and quickly give her my attention but not before catching a smirk on Tariq's face.

Crap he saw.

I do my absolute best to pay attention to Professor Baker. She's around her thirties and super pregnant, but she's a force to be reckoned with.

That baby isn't slowing her down at all.

"You guys will be reading The Bell Jar for the first few weeks and will bring a closed reading on it every class."

Rasheed raises his hand. "What's a closed reading."

Professor Baker crosses her arms and positions her body toward our table. "Did you not read the syllabus, Mr. Araneo."

Tariq starts chuckling as Rasheed clears his throat and pulls on his earlobe. "Um, yeah, I did, I just didn't understand it."

A deep giggle escapes my lips at Rasheed's lame cover and Tariq nudges my leg with his knee. My stomach tightens and a very pleasing ache sits in there. I peek over at Tariq as he tries to look serious with furrowed brows, but his hand covering his smiling mouth gives him away.

A small smirk graces my lips and I shift my attention back to Professor Baker, who looks at Rasheed with unbelieving eyes. "A closed reading is an essay consisting of two to three pages. You'll focus on a certain passage in the reading and write a detailed interpretation of it."

Rasheed nods but the way his brow twitches I can tell he's lost. "So, we just pick like a sentence or something?"

"No, a passage, Mr. Araneo." Professor Baker goes to the board and starts her first lesson on The Bell Jar but all I can think about is how Tariq's knee is still touching my leg.

"Do you not have enough room down there?" I ask in a low and slow whisper.

"Nope. I'm a spread eagle kinda guy."

I elbow him. "You're unbelievable."

Three hours tick by agonizingly slow and by the time it's over we're all stepping out of class exhausted and hungry. I didn't have a chance to eat beforehand and class is from five to eight.

Rasheed is massaging his head in misery. "Yeah, I can't do this."

Tariq laughs at him as I slip my backpack over my shoulder listening to their conversation. "You still have time to switch classes."

I bite down on my lip wondering if Tariq will be switching too, which for some dumb reason makes me stay put.

Rasheed sighs, "Yeah I think I will be." He smirks at Tariq. "Too bad you can't since you pushed English off until your senior year."

I relax.

Stop! You don't care!

Tariq shrugs holding his backpack in place by one strap. "It's not that bad man."

Rasheed snorts. "Says the genius."

I decide now's the time to head back. "I'll see you guys around."

Tariq grabs my backpack stopping me. "Oh no, you don't. Your stomach's been growling practically the whole time we've been in there. You're coming with me and we're grabbing some food then doing some of this work together."

Wait, what?

I stand there not knowing what to say.

Say something.

Open your mouth.

Tariq smirks. "It will give you more time to check me out too."

My eyes widen and my whole face combusts with heat. "What? I wasn't. No." I try grasping at any excuse I can find in my frantic brain. "I noticed your tattoos."

Oh.

Dear.

God.

I practically admitted to it.

Rasheed busts out laughing. "Alright, you two have fun. I have a date tonight." He wiggles his brows and pats my head as he walks by. "Nice to finally meet you."

My heart is racing as Tariq slides his arm over my shoulders. "It's okay Blue, we're friends. Best friends. I'm okay if you like to take a look every once in a while. It helps restore the balance from your insults, so my ego doesn't take too much of a dive."

I laugh and slap his shoulder. "I think your ego's just fine."

"But in all seriousness," he continues, "there's no shame in us appreciating the other's body."

I choke on air. "Please don't do any appreciating."

He gives me a devilish smile. "Too late for that, Blue."

Hello everyone! Sorry I've been offline so much. My kids are sucking up a lot of my free time lately and it's been a fight to get some writing and editing done. But here's a new chapter for you and I'll be updating again very soon :) Hope you all enjoy and if you did please click on that little start button :)

~LivingRed