Cat didn't do all that much that weekend, not even homework. Her friends returned at various times on Sunday, all with exciting conversations about how annoying their families were.

Hannah apparently got incredibly drunk during Thanksgiving and got scolded by her grandmother; Cam got accused of being a closeted gay man by his entire family at once during their dinner, despite coming out as bi last year; and Kelsey "accidentally" hooked up with her ex-boyfriend in the bathroom of a Waffle House hours before returning to campus, which Hannah described as the skankiest thing anyone could ever do before Cam rightfully rebutted that a Taco Bell bathroom would have been skankier.

That Sunday night, while they exchanged stories in the common room, Hannah leaned back in a plush chair and looked to Cat and Peter with a sad expression.

"What did you guys do? What did you eat?" Cat gave a sideways glance to Peter, as if to indicate for him to answer first. Peter shrugged without looking up.

"I had Chinese food delivered and watched a Netflix special about the invention of zero." Good lord. When she gave him an expression that essentially boiled down to "are you serious," he shrugged. "It was good."

"That's the saddest thing I've ever heard," Cat said. Peter didn't even acknowledge that she spoke; for whatever reason, it made her stomach flop.

"What about you, Cat?" Kelsey piped up. Her legs were thrown over the side of the other plush chair; she sat in it kind of how Freddie Mercury did on that one cover of Rolling Stone and it suited her perfectly. Cat gave a small smile. She did miss everyone over the break, no matter how short. It made her heart warm to have them all back again.

"I video chatted my family and went to bed early."

"Oooh," Cameron sounded, sitting up a little straighter, "did you have to do anything for Black Friday?" Catherine rolled her eyes.

"Yeah."

"I feel like everyone gets roped into that in one way or another." Cameron shook his head. "I wanted to do the whole shopping thing, but my friends from home all had to work."

Cat stared at him, frowning. "You're the reason they had to work."

"What? No, I'd give them time off if I was.... Oh. You mean because I participate in Black Friday deals." He sighed. "Yeah…."

"I prefer online shopping. Cyber Monday," Peter offered without any prompting. It was a purposefully neutral take, one Cat heard way too often. It didn't even sound like an opinion he'd actually have.

"The IT people are the ones that have to work during that time," Cat said. "And the warehouse workers. Going online doesn't stop it all from happening."

"It takes more than one person to influence a trend," Peter shot back. Finally, Cat thought. He was finally responding to her like he used to. She maybe got a little too excited at the thought; was it weird she had to stop herself from smiling?

"The collective is made of individuals. Sheep follow other sheep."

"For fuck's sake," Hannah muttered under her breath. She gently rested her head on the table in the middle of them; Kelsey threw her head back and let out a loud laugh.

"Are you calling me a farm animal?" Peter's eyes went wide. A burst of energy shot through her stomach.

"If the shoe fits...or the hoof."

Cameron slapped the table. "It would be-hoof you to stop this before you get started. We were all having a nice time, come on...." Cat shrugged, and leaned back in her chair. She could be satiated by that for a while. Peter grumbled something under his breath that she couldn't hear; otherwise, she would have definitely said something else.

"At least nothing's changed," Kelsey said through her sigh. For the briefest moment, Cat was transferred to when Peter said that to her, when she stood outside his dorm, handing him replacement workout clothes for the ones she bled all over from when he "held her brains in" as Martin so delicately put it. A shiver ran down her spine.

"Anyway," Cam said, as if nothing was said about it at all, "it's nice to be back." Kelsey let out an "mhmm" response, but Hannah's was even less enthusiastic. "Now to get ready for finals!"

Kelsey kicked his leg as she muttered, "Cam, I hate you."

Cam wasn't wrong about prepping for finals, though. On Monday, open registration for next semester's classes started, leaving everyone to frantically remember that their ideal schedules completely hinged on the fact that they passed the current classes they took.

The only one that Cat was relatively worried about was communications, it turned out. Stats didn't go as well as she'd hoped, and she would maybe get a B+ if she didn't completely ace the final, but communications still looked relatively bleak from the horrendous "0" of such a large, first project. She'd pass, but barely, if she didn't make up this speech. For whatever reason, that one speech was weighted just as heavily as the midterm paper and the final test.

She thought that perhaps the professor would give her more feedback when Cat asked for it after class this week, but she didn't. Just like before, she left Cat stammering, and in a cold sweat. There was really only one more option she could think of....

Sighing, Cat approached Peter that Wednesday night after class. He stared at her like she had a fungal infection growing out of her nose.

"Have you gotten any pointers from Professor Harlem?" she asked as he zipped up his backpack. Cat had waited for everyone in her row to leave so she wouldn't have to deal with anyone walking behind her, but a few people grew frustrated at Peter's hesitance and shoved past him. He didn't seem to notice, or to even move all that much. Was that what it was like, being taller than a sixth grader?

"No," he said slowly. "I haven't asked."

"You're not nervous for the makeup debate?" she asked, probably too fast. Peter stared at her for a moment; something in his eyes lit up for just a moment, amusement that faded away when he swung his bag over his shoulder.

"Not really. This class isn't all that important to me." He was trying to egg her on. Cat's hands clenched into fists.

"What's your grade with the zero, right now?"

He sighed. "A C."

"Can you be a tutor if you have a C?"

"In non-major classes...." But he didn't sound too sure of that. "What are you getting at?" Cat picked at the skin around her fingernails.

"Can we like--rehearse the debate before we actually go through it?"

"Rehearse?" he echoed flatly. Slowly, he gestured for them to get moving to meet everyone else for dinner, and she fell in step with him.

"Yes. Okay, I don't care--well, I do care who wins--but I need to do well on this. I'm thinking of majoring in communications and I want to keep the option open for that." Peter let out a laugh, but she glossed over it. She'd berate him after she got him to agree to this. "I'm serious!"

"You want to major in communications?" He cocked a brow at her. His hand reached forward to stop the door of the classroom from slamming into his stupid perfect eyebrow-face. She would have done it if she wasn't staring so desperately at him. "Why? This class has been nothing but torture to you."

Cat gasped when they stepped into the dark, cold night, and shuddered. The temperature was dropping so fast as the days went on. While Peter shrugged into his jacket sleeves without reacting, she had to stop her teeth from chattering. It wasn't like this up north.

"It's not...torture. But I don't want to make one--" Cat glanced behind her to make sure that Professor Harlem was nowhere within sight or earshot. "I don't want to make one stupid teacher shape my opinion about a possible major. It's the only one that sounds interesting right now." Peter didn't seem to be all that interested in that last bit.

"Why communications?" he asked, as if he couldn't figure out why. "You're the...Fort Knox, I think Kelsey called you. And you favor ignoring basic facts about people--"

"Communications isn't just about blurting out everything you know," she grumbled. "It's finding a different way to understand--to help people understand your idea."

"I know. And you're terrible at it." Obviously he was still mad about last week. Cat let out a frustrated sigh.

"Shut up--yes or no?"

"To--?" Ugh, he was acting stupid on purpose.

Cat gestured with her hand. "Just rehearse the debate with me. Right before it, please."

Peter seemed pensive. "I don't think I've ever heard you say 'please' before…."

"Peter!"

"Um, alright--fine, sure. We can meet before the debate so you don't freak out so much when I beat you--"

"You can be quiet now," she muttered, barely audible. But he heard her, and instead silenced himself with a satisfied sigh. Maybe he only said yes to take a stab at her, but she got what she wanted out of it. Thank God.

Peter might have thrown her a bone about the debate out of overconfidence, but not enough to actually help her. That Friday before class, like they'd scheduled, Cat sat in the library, waiting....but after fifteen minutes, she finally bit the bullet and text him.

Where are you?

Why? At least he responded promptly.

We're supposed to meet!

I thought that was next week.

He was such a liar! She'd even confirmed it before everyone parted from dinner last night! Cat caught her head in her hands. She had half a mind to call him, but opted to text instead. She wrote so many drafts, most of them starting with some sort of insult, but she stopped herself. He didn't have to agree to meet at all. After staring at her phone, watching the chat with such fury, she opted to send, I really thought we confirmed for today. But if you mean next week, can we meet two hours before? Just so I have time to prepare if I have to make revisions?

The three dots that indicated Peter was replying took far too long. Actually, she checked--he let those dots loop for a full two minutes before he sent his single letter answer: K.

She had to stop herself from slamming her phone on the table. He was punishing her! For free coffee? God, what a child. Cat ground her teeth together as she stared at the conversation. He responded promptly so he could torture her more. He was waiting for her to text him, she was positive of it.

"Fucking sociopath," she muttered to herself before she slammed her book closed.

With no scheduled dinner with friends to simmer her irritation after class, Cat went to bed just as frustrated, and the mood carried on through work the next day. She couldn't stop thinking about what would happen if she failed this presentation. Her dad always told her, "Give yourself the opportunity of choice. Do everything well so you have all of your options open." But Peter was trying to make that so difficult. She couldn't pick a major in a class she did poorly in. How in the world would she justify petitioning for that major, if she sucked at it?

The only thing to successfully pull her out of her anger was shock. It took a couple looks, but after she greeted the next customer in line, she had to look up again with a dropped jaw.

“Oh, Nate--hi….” She plastered on a smile. “Sorry, just in the zone. Um, what can I get for you?” He had such a pleased expression when she looked up at him; it nearly made her feel guilty for spilling her drink on him at the Halloween party.

“Hey Cat! Great to see you. I feel bad, because the last time you saw me, I got kind of--” His cheeks burned red. “I made a bit of an ass of myself.” Oh. Well, that was...something. Cat glanced to the patron behind him, who seemed to be still squinting at the menu overhead, deciding. Couldn’t use them as an excuse yet to hurry him along.

“Oh, um--it’s fine. What can I get you?” She hoped this would get him to actually give her an order so she could go directly to making it, but he kept smiling at her.

“A second chance, I hope?” he asked. “The water polo team is throwing a party next weekend. I was hoping you’d come along as my date?” She couldn’t hide her surprise.

“Oh--uh, I don’t--I don’t know my hours for next week,” she lied, hoping that would be enough.

“No problem, the party hasn’t actually been set up yet,” he said, waving his hand. “I can text you later with the details and we can see then. Could I get your number?” Shit, he was already pulling out his phone. God, why did men do this? She couldn't escape while she was at work, and she couldn't tell him she wasn't interested because that could be rude, and she was at the mercy of polite conversation here.

“Um…. I’m on the clock…,” she started, but he put a finger to his lips, as if that would make it any more okay.

“Before your manager sees. I heard she’s a bitch.” Yeah, that would be the picture she painted to Martin.

Cat hesitated before accepting his phone in her hand. It was open to a text message screen, waiting for a number to be input. “Just type a message to yourself so you’ll have my number, too.” God, her stomach felt low. A piece of her just kept trying to come up with excuses, to try and find a way of letting him down without actually having any consequences of having to deal with his disappointment, but she was too caught off-guard to come up with anything clever. Instead, she typed her number in with a simple “hi” message and quickly handed his phone back.

Finally, the patron behind him stood in line, ready to order.

“Um, anyway--sorry, got to get back to it,” she said, gesturing behind him. Nate spun around, then looked back with a panicked look on his face.

“Sorry! Um, I’ll take a...medium...frap.” He didn’t seem convinced, but she accepted it without any additional questions and wrote out his order on a cup. Before he even could say goodbye, she called up the next patron and offered him a simple wave.

Ugh. Now she had to find a way to let him know she wasn’t interested without being too...herself. How the hell was she supposed to do that? And now that she gave him her number, she was "leading him on…." God, nothing good could come of this.