My fingertips rub around the material of my underwear creating a tingling sensation to my core. The slight rub of the fabric above my clit always felt too good to me. Almost better than my fingers. Except if it was Jackson's.

Or hers.

The image of her face appears in front of me, making me stop my movements abruptly. Why do I think about her so much lately?

It's been three years. I should have moved on already.

I mean I have.

It's just something about my sexuality that always leads to her. Probably because all the sexual experiences I had before Jackson were bound to her. She was the one who made me explore my body and my senses, find what feels good to me.

I owe her a big part of myself. Mostly, because I didn't know who I was before I met her.

I used to fly towards every direction. Overloading my day with different people, activities and work, things I thought made me happy, only to realise it was just a way to forget how truly miserable I was. And she not only helped me to change that, but also showed me the way to discover my true self. Physically and emotionally. I was such a different person around her.

No surprise I went downhill after she left.

My hand is itching to continue the journey under my underwear, but I don't obey. I'm pretty sure I won't be able to resist the thought of her touching me and even though Jackson said it was okay to think about anything during this time, I don't want to.

It's either him or nothing at all.

Sighing in defeat, I get up ready to start my day. My feet dig into the soft fabric of the carpet, guiding me towards the closet. It's Monday.

Who created Mondays really? I need to press charges.

I spent about five minutes yawning and rubbing my eyes in front of it, before I manage to drag my favorite pair of boyfriend jeans and a simple white cropped t-shirt. Trying to close the doors unsuccessfully, I huff anoyed pushing on my jackets to the back so I can get it over with.

Honestly, I need to look through my stuff and clean it out before the White Witch emerges through my closet.

I don't ususally go shopping, but I'm one of these emotional hoarders that keeps everything because it's just too hard to let go of them. It feels like every piece has a memory, even if I don't wear it anymore.

Which makes my mom even more crazy, because she tries to get me new clothes every now and then but I resist telling her I have enough stuff, even though most of them are from my highschool years and back. Also, our definition of style is really different, so I don't think that I would wear the clothes she picks either way.

Walking towards the bathroom, I open the shower and check myself in the mirror while waiting for the water to warm up. The hickeys on my neck are a much deeper color than yesterday night, but the memory of Jackson's lips there makes me smile in content.

I can't believe I'm going to see him two days in a row. Usually we don't spend enough time together due to his work and well my fucked up brain, but today he promised to come and get me from the uni after I finish my classes.

That's a good enough reason to get me through the day.

My body relaxes under the hot steam and soon I'm out of the shower putting my clothes on. I take a little extra time to cover the bruises on my neck and chest area and comb my hair.

I need a haircut. A few more inches and they will touch my back dimples.

Taking my phone from the nightstand and the bag with my stuff I walk down the stairs to the kitchen.

My mom is sitting on a chair reading something on her tablet and taking small sips from her coffee.

''There is some pie in the oven if you want.'' She says, without averting her gaze from the screen.

''I'll pass.'' I answer, looking through the fridge for some milk. I don't really eat in the morning mostly because I usually wake up feeling nauseous. But I force myself to get something in my system before I start the day.

Making a bowl with cereal, I sit opposite her and eat.

''Your father called.'' She says after a while.

Crap. I totally forgot to check with him.

After their fight, another work trip came up conveniently and he left for a couple of weeks. I'm sure this was just an excuse to avoid my mother and even though I feel for him, at some point he needs to stop acting like a child and confront her.

He texted and called a few times, but I was so occupied with everything that I forgot to call him back.

''He is somewhere in Florida. Or at least that's what he says.'' She mumbles indifferently.

''What's that supposed to mean?'' I ask, trying hard not to roll my eyes at her words.

''Exactly what I said Daphne.'' She answers oddly calm, still not paying any attention to me.

''Well somebody needs to work.'' I say, drinking the leftovers of my milk.

Her eyes suddenly snap from whatever she was reading and I find her staring at me coldly.

''I agree. Which reminds me. What happened with the baby siting you were doing for the Sothbergs? They are back from their vacation. Aren't they?''

I catch her crude remark but try to keep my attitude under control.

I used to babysit their kids since I can remember. While they grew up I became more like their ''home teacher'' to help them with their schoolwork, but a few months ago, Mrs Sothberg had an accident and took some time off her work, which basically meant they didn't need me. After that summer vacations came up and I lost track of them. I was planning on calling her because even though I never had a problem with money, I like to feel independent, at least in that aspect of my life, but shit happens.

''I'm was planning to contact them.''

''Good. You do that.'' She says giving me some sort of a mocking smile, before she gets up and leaves the room.

Huffing annoyed, I put my bowl in the dishwasher taking a side glance to the powder room across the hall, where I see her fixing her makeup. I take a moment to inspect her appearance, from the floral pattern of her dress, to the high heels and the small golden hoops on her ears. She seems to pay extra attention to her looks these days.

Don't get me wrong. My mom has always been into fashion, not so in a way of buying expensive brands, but more like investing in pieces that she will wear forever. I remember going with her in vintage shops to find clothes and art galleries to decorate our house. It was one of my favorite things to do with her.

I can recall visiting museums in our free time which made everyone in my class making fun of me, mostly because I was the weird kid who actually enjoyed doing these things. I had such a great love for history and art that even though the kids around me used to make fun of my obsession with it, she would always take my side and support my interests.

These sudden memory pieces seem to appear a lot lately. And honestly, I don't know what to do with them. It brings a heaviness in my heart to know that things are not like this anymore and I'm not sure if I can do anything to change it.

Discarding the depressing thoughts, I take my things and walk out the door, grabbing my plaid cardigan in the process.

Focus on the good stuff Daphne.

I mentally whisper to myself which brings only one thought in my mind followed by a smile.

Bob.

The coffee shop if fully packed when I get there.

I stand for a moment outside the window watching my smiley friend making drinks, practically glowing from how much he is enjoying it.

A girl outside the counter spills her coffee on herself and Bob is already treating her with some napkins, while he tries to dry her jacket with his hands.

I'm not sure how he expects this to work but I laugh either way seeing him talking nonstop to her.

I missed this dork.

Soon the girl's face twists into a smile like every other person who spends five minutes with him and she takes a new cup before exiting the shop chuckling.

Yep. That's Bob's effect.

After watching him like a crazy stalker behind the glass, I walk inside taking my place in the line.

There are two baristas working along with him, which explains how they can handle all these people.

When my time comes up Bob is in the back of the store and a curly haired guy smiles politely to me.

"What can I get you?"

I look around awkwardly searching for a glance of my friend's figure in the back but he is nowhere around.

How can I ask for a different barista without coming off rude?

"Yeah?" He says looking at the line of people behind me.

Shit. I'm stalling everyone.

"Can I have Bob? I mean Rob?" I say after panicking for a moment.

"Have him as...?" He aks raising an eyebrow and I almost curse myself for not being able to make a sentence without sounding like a crazy person.

"N-no have him..more like see him? Um I mean.."

His warm laugh saves me from the little meltdown I was having and I see him smiling kindly.

"I'm kidding. Relax. I'll call him."

Exhaling deeply I thank him and move out of the way to let the other clients take their orders.

A couple minutes later the cheerful voice I grew accustomed to, beams through the shop and I turn around to look at my favorite person.

''Little brat!'' He almost screams at my face, before he engulfs me in a tight hug.

My hands move automatically around his shoulders and I squeeze him back.

''I should have known it was you. There are not many pretty girls looking for me usually.'' He says, as soon as we seperate.

''Pretty girls?'' I ask confused.

''Yep. Manuel said a pretty one was asking for me.''

''Oh.'' My face heats up at the sound of his words and I give a side glance to the curly haired boy in the register.

''Relax. It was just a compliment. He doesn't bite.''

''I know.'' I say blushing.

''Wanna sit?'' He asks pointing towards a table.

''Sure but are you allowed to?''

'''Yeah, don't worry. I'll just take my break earlier. Sit and I'm going to get you something.''

Following his lead I take a seat behind the table, while he walks towards the counter. I watch him preparing a drink and even though I try not to look, my eyes drift momentarily to the boy next to him.

As if he felt my stare, he glances towards me giving me a subtle wink and I snap my head quickly in front of me.

Bad Daphne.

''Here it is.'' Bob appears again holding a cup in his hands.

I look at it cautiously, the pleasant smell filling my nostrils.

''What is it?''

''Cinnamon shortbread latte.'' He answers with a smirk.

''What the hell Bob. You know I don't like sweet drinks.''

''I also know that you like cinnamon.''

''In snacks. Like cinnamon rolls, not randomly placed in a cup of coffee.''

''We agreed I will bring some sweetness to your life.''

''That's like a sugary bomb in disguise.''

''Can you try it and stop complain already?''

Giving in, I take a sip from the drink tasting the warm substance. It is a little bit sweeter than I can handle, but the cinnamon flavor saves the aftertaste.

''So?'' He asks impatiently.

''It's okay.''

''Liar. It's more than okay.''

''Fine it's tolerable. Maybe if another barista had made it it would taste better.''

''Ouch. And here I thought you were nothing but cotton and rainbows.''

''Nope. You got me all wrong.'' I say smiling.

''Yeah right. So what's popping? I haven't seen you in forever.''

''I know. I'm sorry. Things were pretty..hectic. But it's better now.''

''Are you okay?'' He asks worriedly and I can't help but melt a little from how caring he is.

''I am.''

And after a long time, I kind of mean it.

We didn't have enough time to catch up since Bob was practically still working and I had a class to attend, but I promised to call him as soon as I could so we could plan a fun night together.

There were a lot of things I wanted to talk about with him, most of them regarding Jackson but I knew that it would be a long conversation, so I chose to share a few facts and keep the details for later.

Bob offered to wait for me after work because we were both ending our schedules around the same time, a suggestion I had to reject considering the fact Jackson was going to pick me up.

''Ooooh I see.'' He said winking at me suggestively, while I run out to catch the bus.

Fifteen minutes later I'm sitting beside Zoey, waiting for the professor to show up.

''Have you heard about that frat party the other day?'' She says, checking her phone.

''No, what happened?''

''Apparently the cops came in and they found an insanely amount of drugs hidden all over the place.''

''Really?''

''Yeah and I'm not even talking about weed or ecstasy. It was cocain. Dozens of packs.''

''You went there?''

''No. Eva told me about it. We had an early class together.''

''Since when do you go to early morning classes?'' I ask, teasing her.

''I thought I would give it a try.'' She says, shrugging.

''That's good. What did you do during the weekend?''

''Nothing really. I hang out a little bit with Josh and made my assignments for the week.''

''You did?'' I ask dumbfounded.

Zoey is in no way a bad student. But she never really cared about these things except from the exams period. She has always been the one to party before a Monday, or during the week, skipped a lot of classes and mostly studied with the notes we took while she was asleep somewhere else. So, to hear that she decided to skip a full weekend to sit home and study makes me at least concerned.

''Yeah. What's with the face? You didn't think I could handle it?''

''No, no. It's not that. I just know you usually work them at the last minute. But good for you.'' I say, offering her an encouraging smile.

''Thanks.'' She mumbles looking at her phone.

A moment of silence passes by and I can't help but observe the way she wears no makeup today. Her hair is up in a bun, a single scrunchy holding her curly black locks. A simple white t-shirt and a pair of green sweats underneath are completely opposite to what I usually see her wearing. And even though I still think she looks beautiful with her natural tanned skin and her perfect almond shaped eyes, she does seem a little dull today.

And there is nothing dull about Zoey.

''Is everything alright?''

''Yeah.'' She answers by shutting off her phone.

''Have you seen you know who these days?''

''Voldemort?''

''No Zoey.'' I say, lowering my voice. ''I mean professor Evans.''

Something shifts behind her eyes and I see her gulping hard before she responds.

''No. We don't see each other anymore. We hardly did anyway. It's over.''

I can tell by the bitterness in her tone that something indeed happenned, but I don't have time to question her further.

The door opens and a familiar tall figure walks inside.

Speak of the devil.

Mr Evan's blonde hair catches the light through the window and I see his blue eyes piercing at us. Or to be more precise at Zoey.

I can see them having some sort of a mental fight, until he finally averts his gaze starting the class.

Half an hour later we are in the middle of Anna Krennina book analysis when Zoey starts sifting restlessly in her seat.

''I think that Anna had such a passionate nature that her wedding couldn't satisfy it.That's why she became so infatuated with Vronsky.'' A girl from the front row says.

''That's true. But even him wasn't enough in the end to make her happy. At least not in the way she wanted. Anna becomes cruel and self-destroying in order to keep her love affair. Why is that?''

''Her feelings were too powerful. The way she loved was too powerful which made her...well crazy.'' Another girl says.

Chris laughs taking off his glasses, casually sitting on top of his desk. ''That's one side of it. I would say she was more of an attention and love seeker in the worst way. Her love was toxic.''

''And Vronsky's wasn't?'' A rough voice breaks the silence and I snap my head abruptly when I realise it was the girl beside me.

Zoey.

Chris takes a moment to study her before he replies calmly. ''Yes he was. We are not taking sides here. We...''

''Oh but you are. Anna is the whore who couldn't feel satisfied with her life and trapped ''perfect'' Vronsky in her ruthless plans. Poor guy. We should feel sorry for him.''

My breath gets caught in my throat when I hear her talk like that in front of the class and so do the rest of them. Low whispers start around us making me instantly touch her leg under the table. And not in a way to shut her up. But to comfort her.

''How about the fact that Anna fell deeply and unconditionally in love with him after HE led her? She was the one who took the biggest risks and paid the price in the end.''

''They were both at fault. No one says the opposite. But Anna's impulsive personality was the reason they didn't have a happy end.'' Christopher answers letting me and the rest of the class watch their interaction like a ping pong match.

''Well maybe he wasn't worthy of her love in the first place.'' Zoey says, with a dead look in her eyes before she storms out the room.

Everybody stays silent after her dramatic departure, but only me and one more person in this room can tell what happened. Actually not even me. I can only make assumptions. He is the one who knows what's going on. As if he read my thoughts, his eyes drift on me momentarily giving me a slight nod to follow her.

Grabbing my things I leave the classroom in order to search for her. Likely I find her easily at the backyard holding her head between her palms.

''Zoey...'' I shakily mumble in an attempt to find the right words without making her feel uncomfortable.

''I know. I shouldn't have talked like that in front of everyone. They are going to think I am a bigger tramp than they already are.'' She says picking on her nails.

''Fuck what they think.'' I answer sternly. She is clearly delusional if she thinks I'm here to scold her. Or that I care about what everyone thinks of her.

Zoey has a certain reputation around the camp. And she definitely tried to live up to it. But I never thought anything less of her because she wasn't the type of ''friend'' my mom or other people would approve of. She likes to have sex. So what? If it was for a guy to sleep around and hook up with different people, or party all day no one would have said anything. Because that's the society we live in. A girl who is comfortable with her sexuality is basically labeled as bad news or worse a whore.

And Zoey was exactly that girl. At least for everyone else.

Because for me, she was the type of person I knew I couldn't be. Free from seeking people's approval, trying to satisfy their needs, make them happy. She was my exact opposite. And that's precisely the reason I became so close to her. I wanted to touch a little bit of this forbidden freedom.

Came for the attitude, but stayed for the character.

''What's going on between you two? I know that whatever happened inside the class didn't have to do with Anna Karenina.''