When I entered the Dining Hall on Thursday morning Mitch was the only one sat at our usual table with a plate stacked with mounds of scrambled egg and bacon in front of him. He was shovelling it into his mouth with his right hand while his left hand held open a gigantic text book that he was attempting to read while he ate. I watched as he scooped up his fork, let it hover mind air for a moment before aiming it in the general direction of his mouth with little success as it collided with his cheek before, without ever looking up from the page, he rectified his mistake and managed to get the food into his mouth successfully. I swallowed a laugh as I sat down with my modest bowl of yogurt and fruit beside him.

"Good book?" I asked barely containing a chuckle.

"I have a test," Mitch explained through a mouthful of food, "for European history," he finally looked up from his book to meet my gaze with a help-me plead, "who sets an exam on the day before thanksgiving? That's got to be against the constitution."

"I reckon you should write to the president and ask him to put it in," I suggested smirking as Mitch's eyes returned to the thick book but they were glazed over as he scanned pathetically over the paragraphs on the Weimar Republic. "Where are the others?"

"Packing," Mitch mumbled with his mouth full of egg.

"Oh," I remembered they were all leaving me, "yeah, of course."

"Hey, I'll call you," Mitch glanced up noticing my lost expression despite his panic, "you can come to thanksgiving at mine if you want, I know my family would love to have you there."

"My dad," I waved my hand in his general direction by way of excuse.

"Of course," Mitch nodded then reached across and enveloped my tiny hand in his huge one keeping it safe, "it's only for a weekend."

"I know," I gave a half smile, then tugged my lips up even wider on an effort to break the moment before it got too deep, "why aren't you packing now?"

"Did it last night," Mitch pressed his head into his palms as his took his hand away from mine leaving it exposed, "before I realised I had a test," he exhaled loudly through his nose.

"Hey you'll be fine," I patted his forearm in the most unhelpful attempt in helping.

"Only 90 years or so left," Mitch heaved out a sigh as he flicked through the remaining hefty chuck of the book, "and two entire world wars."

"All in," I glanced up at the clock, "half an hours work."

"Fuck," Mitch cursed under his breath.

"I'll leave you to it," I rose from my seat, Mitch instantly sat up straight in panic;

"No," he objected, "I'm sorry I just need to ..," he waved a dismissive hand over the book.

"It's fine," I reassured, "I'll see if the boys need any help packing, you keep revising. Good luck with the test."

"Thanks," he smiled gratefully before placing his head back in his arms to stare intently at the open page.

I headed back to the dorms trying to make sense of the feeling of dread in my stomach, I knew it wasn't normal to be this upset when they were all going away for a mere weekend. I told myself it was because of the shooting, that had scared me. But I couldn't convince myself that was true, I wasn't scared, I wanted them to stay for another reason completely. I wasn't even worried about having to spend a holiday just my dad and me which I would have been a month ago. I was dreading not having the boys presence around me, their good looks that always took the breath out of me and their humour and wit that constantly had me clutching my sides in pain. I need them. I was dangerously addicted to all of them and the thought of being apart for just a few days was terrifying. I needed my fix.

"I'm not fucking packed yet," raised voices from above affronted me when I reached the Juniors floor. Immediately I picked up my pace to see why Nico was yelling.

"Hurry up Nicolas, we can buy things there. Our plane leaves in two hours," Dr Aguilar was stood in the centre of the corridor, hands on hips and face set in a carving of disapproval as he stared into Nico's room impatiently.

"I'm coming okay," Nico snapped, "I'm not ready because I thought we were going this evening. I have a test in a minute as well."

"What on poetry?" the doctors opinion on poetry was evident in the way he twisted the word in his mouth like rotten fish.

"No," Nico's stunted reply came out harshly.

"That scowl better not be on your face when we get to your abuela's," Nico's father warned aggressively.

"Dr Aguilar," that's when I took my moment to interrupt, stepping in with a winning smile and an extended hand, "you might not remember me we met at parents evening, I'm Cara."

The doctor gave me a look like a was a piece of shit he was just about to scrape off the bottom of his shoe.

"Hello," he shook my hand and nodded politely but there was dismissal in his every move. He was less than pleased to see me. His eyes turned back to Nico who was dragging an overflowing duffel bag across the floor, "come on Nico."

"Dr Aguilar," I repeated his name with more force this time and finally gained his full attention and I could see surprise in his eyes, he clearly wasn't used to people interrupting him, "I don't appreciate you speaking to Nico like that," I fought to keep my voice steady and assertive, the doctors critical gaze made me want to melt into the floor but on Nico's behalf I refused to, "you should be more careful and a lot nicer in the way you treat your son or you'll lose him and never get to know what a brilliant, intelligent and extremely talented son you have. He's one of the funniest and most compassionate people I've ever had the privilege to meet and it's your loss if you're unable to see that."

A stunned silence followed as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. I could barely believe what I'd done myself, it was so atypical of me but hearing him speak to Nico that way made my blood boil. The way that the usual glint in Nico's eyes vanished the moment his father was there killed me.

"Let's go Nico," was all his father said bluntly before stepping aside and marching straight past me not acknowledging my existence. I felt like I'd just been kicked in the gut.

"You just can't get through to some people," Nico whispered quietly, he was stood in his doorway looking like a small reprimanded child, "I appreciate what you said."

All it took was two steps for me to reach him and throw my arms around him and hug him tightly into me. I never wanted to let go and hoped that he could feel every ounce of love I was pouring into him as I clung onto him for dear life.