"You picked a dance with the devil and you lucked out."—Chase Atlantic.

"He drank from your straw?" April puts a black dress, draped on a hanger, over her form as she stands in front of the mirror, cocking her head to the side contemplatively.

The dress looks extremely skimpy and leaves nothing to the imagination. The sleeves are laced-covered, and the cleavage and back area are widely low-cut. One bad shift and her chest will be displayed for the whole world to see.

She seems to be going somewhere, and I solemnly hope she does not try to drag me along like last night. I am not up for meeting anymore handsome, creepy boys.

It is as if my words have just sunken it as she turns to look at me, her eyes wide with disbelief. "He drank from your straw?!"

I nod. Well, welcome back to earth.

Sighing in exasperation, she flops down onto the bed next to me, splaying the dress onto her lap. "I keep warning him to stay away from you, but he just won't listen." She shakes her head frustratedly. "Blaze can be quite stubborn."

I recall how easily he and I bonded over his drawing, and how Mr. Jones' had warned me to keep my distance from him. I am feeling greatly conflicted because the image they are painting isn't what I am seeing at all. I rub my arm. "Uhm, he doesn't seem so bad..."

"Bad?" She sighs, shifting her torso to face me. "Okay listen, Harmony. You can't take Blaze seriously. He is never genuine with anyone. It's not that he doesn't want to be...he just can't be even if he wants to."

I don't think I comprehend that last line.

My eyebrows knit together, and I coil my feet beneath me. "What do you mean by that?"

Immediately, the door to the room opens, interrupting our conversation. Tia and Yuna stroll into the space, bringing with them a strong whiff of feminine cologne. They are both arrayed in short dresses, and their hairs are properly done with makeup perfectly applied to their skins.

"Ready?" Yuna questions and Tia looks at me with a smile.

"Are you coming, Harmony?"

"Coming where?" My eyes drift between her and April, who puts a palm to her forehead as she shakes her head.

"I forgot to ask you. We are going to a party right down the street. One of the social frat members lives nearby here. Want to come?"

I shake my head instantly, without the need for mental contemplation. "No, I will just stay here, it is not my thing."

She frowns, nudging me pleadingly. "Come on, it will be fun."

"Another time," I promise, then regret it immediately. I hate parties. People are always smoking at those sorts of gatherings and that's not good for my asthma. Alongside that, creepy drunk guys tend to lurk around at such events, and I don't want to be the victim of some frat party battery. It is just not the place for me, and the whole thought of it makes my skin itch.

"Okay next time it is then!" Yuna smiles, and I resist the urge to say, 'don't hold your breath.' My thoughts can be quite feisty sometimes, but my sassy sentiments never seem to leave my mouth. I am yet to gather the courage to speak boldly.

April gets up from the bed. "I haven't changed yet, give me a minute, guys."

She walks to the bathroom with her chosen dress, leaving us in the small room. The girls send me awkward smiles, and I render a weird one back. I have no idea what to say to them. I've only met them last night and they aren't as talkative as April, so I just purse my lips and run my small hands along my thighs, keeping my gaze on the pink bedsheets.

Talk about awkward...

April's bath didn't last long and soon she's out, relieving me of this uncomfortable situation. My eyes scan her outfit, and I realize that my speculations were correct. It leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination. If my mom were to see me wearing something like that, she would ship me off to a nun school after getting Pastor Dennis to splash me with holy water.

The girls start chattering again, mainly about things I have no clue about. Finally, they are ready to leave and a contented sigh escapes me. I could use some alone time.

April waves to me and throws me the room key in case I decide to leave the dorm. That will not happen, but I accept it anyway in case I'll need food from the hall's snack bar.

They close the door behind them, shutting out their prattling as the room becomes quiet once again. My lips stretch in a broad smile at the peaceful stillness that now surrounds me. I love being alone.

Deciding to take a shower, I settle onto my knees on the bed, hauling my duffel bag toward me. My teeth catch hold of my lip as I unzip the bag, merrily welcomed by the scent of Snuggle fabric softener. It's a scent similar to a fresh toddler's and I smile as my thoughts regress to my mother. On Sundays, she would normally do everyone's laundry while I get the foodstuffs out of the fridge until it's time to start dinner. Then we would cook together, eat, and later watch a movie on Netflix until we felt drowsy. I miss her already.

My mom and I were not close. I was a daddy's girl but after his death, I have been clinging more to my mom to distract myself from the bittersweet memories. We are each other's mutual medicines since spending time with me saves her from becoming a dire widow.

I pull out a large yellow T-shirt with a pair of white shorts before getting up and making my way to the bathroom.

I climb under the shower, my toes flinching as they meet the chilled ceramic floor. Goosebumps immediately trail my skin as I turn the rusted pipe on, cold droplets pouring from the holes and trickling down my back. I clamp my teeth together chillingly as I quickly apply soap onto my rag. There is no way to have a warm bath at Homewood so this will be my fate for the next four years; I might as well get used to it.

I rinse off before switching the pipe off and reaching for a towel from the rack, stepping out onto the furry mat as I dry myself off.

Leaving the bathroom with damp hair, I plop against my bed, forking my fingers through the knotted strands before sloppily tying it up into a quick bun.

It's solitary moments like these, when I am alone and comfortable, that I can exercise my talents. So instead of revising the notes that I got today, I decided to sketch something. Seeing Blaze's drawing had ignited my passion for the skill, and since after today things may become busy with all those AP assignments waiting, why not take the night to bask in my creative abilities? Call it the hecatomb of freedom.

I pull my sketch pad from my rucksack before grabbing my 3b pencil from my pouch. I place the book flat against the bed, pulling one of my knees up to my chest as I ponder on what to draw.

Almost instantly, a pair of aquatic eyes flash across my mind, and my cheeks heat up terribly, embarrassed at my own thoughts. It's not that I have any form of interest in him, it's just that his eyes are beguiling, and I've never seen anything like them. It isn't only about the color they have, but also the way they tend to appear void sometimes. I am unable to accurately put my finger on it, but they seem stranger than anyone else's I've ever seen.

My reason for wanting to draw his irises is entirely innocent. I am sure.

My pencil hovers over the page, and I bite my lip in concentration as I begin to sketch the eyes of my English desk-mate.

••

"Oh, Shit!" I laugh, as Cole spits out alcohol onto the hard table, unable to keep it down as liquid flows through his nostrils. I shift away from the surface of puke as the brunette on my lap shakes her head in disgust.

"I give up, I give in," he says between breaths, and my lips spread in a grin.

"I can see that. My money." I stretch my hand out, and he sighs, digging into his trousers with a pained face. James stands next to me, laughing his face off whilst awfully chewing on a straw.

Would you believe me if I told you that I hate being here, at this party, around all these people? I can't pinpoint one person in this room that I genuinely like. James is alright, but I can't feel that brotherly love that other people feel for their bros. My heart is just void, and all I can think about right now is how this brunette's rear is pressing the life out of my dick.

"You sons of bitches should know that you don't challenge, Blaze-motherfucking-Xander!" James bellows with open arms, glaring over the room of gawking people. "He's the champion of gambling! Please know that! Who else wants to challenge him? Who?!"

I chuckle. "Shut up, you idiot..."

The only reason I come to these gatherings is to make some easy money, by betting with fools who have a lot of cash to squander. We do this thing called: 'The Beer Challenge.' Yeah, the title is stupid as fuck; I'm not the one who came up with it. We bet on who can drink the most liquor in one go without throwing up. Cole just lost to me, and so he has to give me two hundred dollars. This is the only reason why I am here around all these irrelevant people.

"Fifty more, fool." I shake my palm, and he sighs before feebly pushing his hand into his pocket, pulling out a crumpled note. He hands it to me, and I smirk while unfolding it, lifting it high under the white living room lights to check its validity.

"Thank you. Pleasure doing business with you." I say, and he can't keep off the weak smile forcing its way onto his lips as his friend ushers him over to the couch. He's practically crouching, and I gawp at him in mock pity. Jeezus, it's just alcohol, not a lethal injection.

The crowd breaks up since the fun is over, and I can feel my junior falling asleep. This girl needs to get up now.

"Get up. Have a good night." I tell her, and she swings her face around.

"Really?"

Did I speak Chinese?

My brows furrow as she tucks her hair behind her ear sensually. "I just thought we were going to go up to one of the rooms and—"

"Do you have a condom?"

Her face reddens. "No..."

"Exactly. You're not gonna try to tie me with a baby, now ease up, my legs are falling asleep."

She frowns, getting off my lap with a disappointed face. I notice she's still standing next to my head with tightly folded arms, and I ignore her as I stuff the money into my pocket, looking over at James.

"Where's my cousin?"

"That's what I'm wondering." He pulls out his cellphone, the blue light illuminating his face as I stand to my feet. I see the brown-haired girl finally stomp away at the corner of my eyes and I smile in amusement, biting my lips to keep back a chuckle.

What was she still standing there for?

The party is loud and crowded, and since my purpose is over, I am starting to get quite bored. I haven't seen my cousin all night and truth be told; I am secretly hoping she brings that shy girl with her.

It'd be fun.

"Goodnight, you two imbeciles."

A voice sounds from behind us, and we turn our heads to see April standing there with a palm to her waist.

"Speak of the devil and she shall appear." I smile, and she rolls her eyes, bringing her body into mine for a hug. I kiss her head and move away as James eyes her attire hungrily.

Tia and Yuna are standing beside her and Harmony...

Not here.

I lean against the wall, pressing my head against the surface. "Where's Mary?"

"Who?" April scrunches her face up, and I chuckle. "Harmony, duh."

"She's at the dorm." Tia answers.

"Blaze, for the love of everything holy, please leave the poor girl alone." Yuna throws her hands up dramatically, and I splay my arm around her, pulling her into me sideways.

"Are you jealous? We can go back to my dorm if you like."

She hisses as shifts away from me, screwing her face up in feign disgust. "Whatever, your charm does not work on me."

"April, my baby. Looking very splendid tonight." James salivates his lips, and my cousin cringes as she pulls her eyes from him and to me.

"Anyway, Yuna is right, Blaze. Leave Harmony alone. You should choose another first year to bother this year."

"See April, I can't do that, because when my eyes are set on something, I can't stop until I get what I want." I turn away and begin leaving the room, and she frowns behind me.

"Where are you going Blaze, we just got here!"

I raise a finger, beckoning to the front door. "To the bathroom!"

Not.

I am going to find Ms. Innocent. I think she is more interesting than a party.

••

I place my pencil and crayons down, pleased with what I have produced. It has been a while since I have exercised the talent, so I am appalled that my skills are still the same. I smile to myself as I tilt my head, staring proudly at the accurate piece.

I intended to draw just a pair of blue eyes, but now Blaze's entire upper body is on the paper. My photographic memory has saved his image so clearly in my head and I could not resist the urge to carve more than just his eyes. It's scary how precise the illustration is, that I can feel butterflies gathering around in the pit of my stomach. I stare into the eyes of the sketch, my cheeks becoming flammable once again.

"Don't let him near you"

"You will regret it"

I flash my head. Drawing an image of him does not mean that I am interested in him. I am sure.

Now that I've proven to myself that my talent is still present, I should dispose of this.

I take it up and hold the tips on each end to rip it in half, but a gentle knock on my door causes me to freeze.

Is April back so soon? It has only been about forty-five minutes. Perhaps the party was a lot lamer than I thought it would be.

I postpone ripping the page, setting it onto my bed as I get up and move toward the door.

I open it, and my body immediately stiffens when my eyes encounter a familiar oceanic pair. Not on paper this time, but in real life.

"Hi, Harmony."

"Blaze?" My forehead puckers bewilderedly and I am almost certain I look electrocuted right now. Why is he here?

He's wearing a grey T-shirt with ripped black jeans and instead of his silver hoop earrings, he's wearing a gold pair. Judging from his appearance, he was probably at the party.

His gaze is one of amusement as I gawp at him like a statue. I pull my voice from my throat. "Uhm, April isn't—"

"I am not here for April," he interjects. "May I come in?"

He doesn't wait for a response as he steps past me, his mesmerizing scent meeting my nostrils. I am uncertain if it's body wash or cologne, but all I know is that the fragrance is heavenly.

I hesitantly close the door after him, deciding not to press the lock in case he tries to do something to me. I've been getting plenty of warnings about this guy. What if he's a rapist? I don't want to find out.

"W-why are you here?" I ask as I turn around, pulling down my shorts so it covers more of my thighs. He notices this and smiles faintly, turning away to inspect the wooden nightstand.

"Just checking up on you," he says as he reaches for a photo frame of my mom and me. He stares at it, and I watch him steadily, fiddling with the sleeves of my T-shirt.

"How old were you here?" He looks at me, and I swallow uneasily.

Why is he in my room right now? This feels ominous and I would be lying if I said his presence doesn't scare me.

"Fourteen."

He nods slowly, looking back at the picture as he tilts his head observantly. "You have been pretty since then."

My face blooms like a red rose, and he rests the image down as he continues to look around the room like a plumber at work.

Please leave now!

He walks toward the bunk bed, and I see his eyes squint as he intently stares at something. I track his gaze, and a soft gasp leaves me as he grabs the drawing from the bed.

Oh God, no.

"Is this m—"

I snatch it quickly, tugging it behind me as I step back from him. A smile pulls at his red lips as he steers his torso to me.

"Can I see?"

I grip it tighter behind me. "No..."

"Why not? I am the factor of your inspiration, so I am entitled to see what I look like in pencil."

"It's not you." I lie, and he folds his arms across his toned chest, his biceps bulging boldly.

"Really?"

"Yeah...it's just a random person..."

God, forgive me for lying. I'll pray about it later.

He shrugs and nods, and I perceive that he's letting it go. "Okay, no problem..."

He turns away as if to walk off but immediately spins around, catching me off-guard and grabbing the picture from my grasp in a blink.

My eyes tear open, and I gesture to grip it back, but he swings around, laughing throatily as he quickly inspects it.

"Woah." He beams. "This is good. I look even more handsome as a drawing!"

"Give it back!" I protest, pulling at his arm but it barely budges as the muscles flex under my grasp. I frown. "Blaze!" I tip on my toes, trying to reach for it as he holds it high above his head. He's smiling his handsome face off while I am badly embarrassed.

If I don't get this back, I might as well write a suicide letter.

Impulsively, I make a huge jump for it, but that's the wrong approach since I end up knocking us both onto the bed.

I fall on top of him, my bust landing flat against his hard chest. A small gasp leaves me at the contact, and he stares up into my eyes with a smirk on his lips. My stomach lurches at the intense gaze he's giving me, his teeth coming down to sink into the flesh of his flushed lower lip.

I blink nervously, trying to pull away when he presses a palm against my back to keep me in place. My eyes enlarge, and his smile stretches further.

"Don't give up so soon," he whispers. "Try again...reach for it."

He's holding the picture above his head while he gazes into my grassy marbles. I stare back at him for a while, his alluring eyes setting me into a trance. But I recall the ones I drew tonight that will be the most embarrassing predicament for me if I fail to get it back. And so, I stretch my arm up to reach for it, frowning when my limb is not as tall as his. He chuckles lightly at the look of struggle on my face. "Try harder."

I push my arm out again, my need to retrieve the drawing overshadowing the fact that my face is now dangerously close to his. My arm socket is starting to throb as I use all the strength and effort within me, and just when my fingers are about to graze the paper, he subtly pulls his hand farther away. I knit my brows at him, and he chuckles. "What? Try to get it."

He's being unjust but I don't have the time to bicker about that. I need the drawing back right now or I might as well sail off a cliff.

I gesture to try again but stop when I realize that one more move and our lips might collide. Each time I stretch my arm further, we become closer. Our faces are inches apart now and he gazes up at me through hooded eyes. I begin to understand that this was his intention the entire time. He wants us to be this close; he wants our faces to be less than inches apart.

I catch onto his scheme and throw my towel in, attempting to get away from him when he flips us over, so that I am lying onto my back while he hovers over me.