The last time I'd seen Sarah look this mad was when I knocked over her $40 Thymes candle she'd gotten her mother for Christmas. I had been attempting to straighten a pair of reindeer antlers on my head and brushed it off the counter with my elbow.

But looking at her now, I thought I would rather make the drive out to Bed Bath and Beyond in a freezing blizzard all over again.

"So, um... what do we have to talk about?" I asked slowly.

"A lot." Her eyes were blazing. "Does the freak have to be here?"

I glanced at Michael and he licked his lips before responding. "Tell me what you guys wanna eat and I'll go-"

"Just leave us alone!" she cried. "God. I hate whenever you're around."

"Fine, I won't get you anything." He turned to me. "What would you like?"

To get the hell out of here. "Uh... chicken sandwich?"

"Want mayo?" he asked.

"Sure."

"C'mon," Sarah huffed, grabbing me by the arm and dragging me back to her table while Michael walked away. "Do you have any clue how many texts I've sent you? How many times I've called you?"

"I lost my phone," I said casually, taking a seat across from her. "Are you sure you're not hungry?"

"How'd you lose your phone?"

"Pizza looks good," I told her, staring at a table of two girls with slices. "You could get that."

"Shut up about the pizza," she snapped. "I want you to tell me what you were doing last night. What you've been doing all these nights."

"Um..." I gulped and looked at the pizza girls. One of them was scribbling something in a notebook. "Homework," I said quickly. "I actually still have a lot of homework to do, so..."

"Stop lying," she said. "You say that all the time, but now I know the truth. You're... god, you're disgusting."

I narrowed my eyes, flicking them towards where Michael was ordering his food. She couldn't possibly know, could she? "Listen-" I started.

"I thought I knew you," she interrupted. "Thought I knew the kind of person you are. But you've changed. Ever since we got here you don't call me anymore, you don't tell me things anymore, you keep secrets and you run off every night and you do gross things."

"Sarah," I said desperately as my heart began beating faster and faster. "It's really not as bad as you think. It's just like getting with anyone else. Just, you know, different."

She sighed heavily. "Yeah, well, it's kind of an important difference."

I could feel drops of sweat forming along my hairline. "Not rea-"

"I mean, god, if you really had to have... sex... that bad, why couldn't you just find a nice, normal girl who... who studies, and has a future... not someone like that!"

I looked down, the weight of her stare crushing me. "I know," I mumbled. "I know. You're right. I'm just... I'm kinda low on options right now."

"Ugh," she groaned. "This is why I hate men. You're always such dogs. I swear you'd fuck a rock if it had a hole in it."

"That would hurt," I said.

"Stop trying to be funny!" Sarah yelled, slapping her palm on the table. "You took advantage of that poor girl!"

I paused, then tilted my head. "Wait... girl? What girl?"

"Do you have any idea what I'm even talking about?" she asked, her eyes widening in disbelief.

"I thought you were talking about me and-"

"Look!" she said, lifting her phone up. There was a picture on her screen, but it was pretty blurry. I could make out two people lying on a bed, barely clothed and wrapped around each other.

"You watch porn now?" I muttered. "Since when?"

"It's not porn, Ben," she sighed. "It's you."

I jumped a little and reached to snatch the phone out of her hand. Sure enough, that man was me, and next to me was some girl, her only distinguishable feature being huge curly pink hair. Pinky from the bar. Of course.

I breathed a huge sigh of relief and handed her the phone back. "Sarah, thank god, I thought you were... never mind. I don't know anything about that. I was really drunk last night. I don't think we had sex, though."

"You don't even know?" she said incredulously. "You're unbelievable. And gross. I know who she is, by the way. She's one of Amy's bitches. You know, the ones that have to go out and fuck people for her little test. That's why I stopped hanging out with them. It broke my heart. Of course, you wouldn't know because you wouldn't pick up your phone all night." She gestured to her screen. "Great to know this is why."

"Sarah, slow down," I pleaded. "What are you talking about? What's this have to do with Amy?"

She made a tight smile. "Did you think this girl here slept with you because she liked you? She didn't. She was just trying to fit in with the rest of- oh, god. Not him again."

I followed her gaze past my shoulder and saw Michael holding two sandwiches, a plastic fork, and a mini salad.

"I got you this for you, Smurfy," he said, setting the salad down in front of her. "I know you think you'll get nice and skinny and lose all the weight by starving yourself, but I'm here to remind you that it's still important to eat."

"I'm not starving myself," she snarled. "And this... this is your doing, isn't it? You must be the... the bad influence pressuring him to do all these things. Trying to turn my best friend into some man-whore alcoholic!"

He snorted and looked at me, though I kept my eyes down. "Am I now? That's news to me."

"I'm so done with everyone here," Sarah ranted. "Amy. Maria. Brad. The two of you. I just want to meet someone normal."

For the first time, I considered the possibility that she was doing even worse than me. I'd assumed she had moved on from me and was living it up with her cool new friends. Maybe I was wrong. "There's always Lydia," I said.

"Who?"

"Lydia. She helped me drag your ass to the car during Amy's party. She's nice."

Sarah shook her head and stood, avoiding my eyes while she adjusted her shirt and stuffed her phone into her jeans pocket. "I'm done with this conversation," she said. "Talk to me when you're not just killing time till your next party. Or don't. At this point I don't really care."

I watched her walk away, raising her head up in the way she only ever did when she was trying to save her pride, then turned my eyes tiredly to Michael. "So that went great," I muttered.

He nudged me over so he could sit down and picked up one of the sandwiches. "I'm sure."

I didn't reply and folded my arm on the table to lay my cheek on.

"I didn't know you were an alcoholic or a whore," he teased. "You've been holding out on me."

I blushed and bit my lip. "I'm not, I don't know why-"

"She likes you," he said plainly.

"What?" I scoffed. "No she doesn't. We're just friends."

He raised his eyebrows and bit into the sandwich. "You are so oblivious to the effect you have on women."

I rolled my eyes. "You're crazy."

"I'm telling you," he insisted. "From an outside, objective view, it's obvious."

So she's jealous? I thought. Of Pinky? That was just stupid. Since we were thirteen, both of us had dated other people. We used to tell each other about our crushes. We used to talk about having playdates with our kids when I had a wife and she had a husband. We used to lie in bed together, centimeters apart, and talk about movies and places around the world and what it must be like to fall in love.

"Well I don't like her," I said sorrowfully. "At least, not like that." He said nothing and kept chewing, reaching across the table to pull the salad closer to him. I watched his t-shirt sleeve stretch around his bicep. "I like you," I whispered.

He slowed his chewing for a second and looked at me. "Yeah, I know."

I didn't really expect it to be a shock. After all, he'd accused me of this in the past. But I'd never really been sure if he was just kidding around. As crazy as it sounded, sometimes all of it, the flirting, the kissing and everything else, still seemed like some weird joke. And now it was finally solidified in my mind that no, it was definitely for real.

"I just thought I'd tell you," I murmured, picking at the plastic wrap on the second chicken sandwich.

He had finished his already. "You better eat that before I do," he said, staring at it.

I sighed and pushed it in his direction, then stood and walked around to the side of the table Sarah had been at so I could avoid having to crawl over him. "Enjoy."

"Come on, wait a second," he said, reaching for my arm. I pulled it away and his hand ended up colliding with my thigh instead. "Sit down."

I reluctantly took Sarah's seat and watched him slide the uneaten sandwich over to me.

"I got this for you," he said, and against my wishes my heart decided to find that sweet. "So you have it. What are you doing tonight?"

I thought about it. I wouldn't be hanging out with Sarah, that was for sure. I hadn't had a chance to see if Rhoda was even alive, and anyone else I would have liked to spend time with lived over a hundred miles east.

"Nothing." Maybe I'd do some homework for once.

"Okay," he said as he opened the salad. "Why don't you come with me?"

I narrowed my eyes. "Come with you? Isn't every time you leave to go fuck someone?"

He chuckled and aggressively stabbed some lettuce with the fork. "No. I mean, yeah, most of the time it turns into that. But you could come just hang out with me and my friends. You could use some new ones, right?"

"So... it's like a party?"

"Kind of. There's a lot of drugs. Drinking. Sometimes orgies. It's fun. You'll see."

"Sarah's right." I picked up the sandwich and took a tentative bite. "You're a terrible influence."

He looked up and smiled. "I'm a great influence. Wanna try the salad? It's healthy. Lots of..." He squinted at it. "Lots of leaves in here."

I stabbed some lettuce and a slice of cucumber with my fork. "It's nasty," I reported.

"Yeah, I don't like it either," he said, pushing it to the side. "Alright, I gotta go. Oh, by the way. I texted the old man while you were, uh, talking, and apologized for threatening his life and all, and he's going to try to find your stuff. Emphasis on try. Sound good?"

"You threatened his life?"

"Yes. In the heat of the moment. I was very upset. I'm sure he's done things he's not proud of as well. Like stealing drunk college students' clothes. I sorta hinted that I could totally destroy his career and he seemed cooperative."

I smiled and pressed my lips together. "So you said sorry for threatening him and then threatened him again?"

"I guess." He closed the salad and picked up the wrapper of his sandwich before standing. "Bye-bye."

"See ya." I followed him with my eyes as he walked past me towards the huge trash can in the back of the cafeteria, then looked down and angrily ripped a huge chunk of chicken off with my teeth.

╭-°—✞—˚✧❨✧˚—✞—°-╮

╰-°—✞—˚✧❨✧˚—✞—°-╯

Classes, for the rest of the day, felt just a little longer than usual. Not that I paid a second of attention to any of them.

I jogged up the stairs of my building to a pitch-black hallway, thinking that if I were to suddenly trip, that sharp metal edge on each step would slice right through my leg. Maybe it would slice it right off. Then, on top of everything else wrong in my life, I would have no leg.

I tensed a little as I approached my door and heard quiet talking inside, then forced my hand up to knock. The last thing I wanted to do was walk in on Michael and some girl in bed.

There was no girl. I could see Michael in the shadows, leaning against the wall and talking into his phone. He glanced up and waved me over.

I finally did, and he wrapped his arm around me, pressing me to him and giving my shoulder a friendly rub. "He told you that?" he continued to his phone. He had one AirPod in his ear and I had no idea what the other person was saying. "Bro, can't you guys do it yourself? Or literally just hire some-"

I tried not to listen, focusing instead on the part of his chest uncovered by his half-buttoned shirt. The eagle was peeking out. I thought about what Rhoda had said about tattoos. Maybe I should get one. It certainly made Michael look hotter, so maybe it would for me too.

"So get the money from Dad," he said. "You still talk to him, don't you?" He started walking in a sort of oblong shape, and because we were connected I stumbled uncomfortably after him. "Jesus, man. How's Abby?"

Tattoos were tricky. They usually look good when you're young, but tatted-up old folks seemed weird to picture. And what would I even get? What if I hated it in a year?

"Okay, well, you're gonna have to figure it out," Michael told his phone. "Stick to your plan. I might just drive out there at the end of the month anyway." He paused and chuckled wryly. "Uh-huh."

Maybe he comes from a family of robbers, I thought. Or maybe they're a gang and they go around murdering people. It had to be something cool like that.

"Okay, call me when you've talked to him?" he said, lowering his eyes as he spoke. I leaned into him, beginning to grow impatient. His hand had managed, just in those last few moments, to migrate around my side and down my front.

I inhaled softly and tightened my stomach as his fingers grazed over it, trying my best not to make a sound. I wondered if in his weird twisted mind, this was fun for him. Probably. I looked up, hardening my gaze, and planted my hand experimentally over the front of his pants.

He widened his eyes at me and I pressed harder. "Shit, gotta go," he mumbled into the phone. I giggled and pushed myself up on my toes for a kiss. "Hey, remember we're supposed to go out tonight," he told me as I backed us up towards his bed.

"We'll go later," I said, already attempting to take off his shirt.

He tilted his face down to kiss my cheek. "See, that's not a good idea," he whispered, his lips right next to my ear. "Because if you turn me on..." He smirked. "We won't be going anywhere."

I smirked. "Sorry."

"I realized I never said hi to you," he whispered. "Hi."

I inched closer to him, accidentally making our noses brush. "Hi."

He touched my shoulder gently and pushed me down, moving over me so one of his legs was between mine and our chests met. "And how was your day?" he asked.

"Boring."

"Really?" He brought his hand up and smoothed my hair where it had fallen over my forehead. "That's not good. We'll have to liven it up."

I looked up at him, breathing so hard my chest hit his every time it rose and fell. "Can you kiss me?"

He smiled. "Yes."

He lowered his weight on me, sliding his arm under mine to hold the sheet, and pressed our lips together, mouth open, his other hand cupping my face. I felt him touch the roof of my mouth with his warm tongue and clung to him, trying to stop myself from moaning into his mouth.

He ended the kiss slowly and looked at me, moving his hand over to trace his fingertip along the bridge of my nose. "You look adorable, do you know that?"

"It's probably the angle," I whispered, unable to keep the smile off my face. I reached up and pushed the tip of his nose back like a pig's until he pulled his face away. "You know the best thing about being short? Everyone sees you at a nice angle."

He blinked. "Being tall is still a thousand times better."

I scowled at him.

"You could always wear heels," he said playfully. "Or those weird circus stilt things."

"No and no," I said, pushing him off of me so I could sit up. "Now are we going to your stupid party or staying here to fuck?"

He laughed a little and sat up next to me, twisting his fingers through mine. "I have a whole year to fuck you. I'm not in a rush."

I turned my head to the side, suddenly curious. "Will we have different roommates next year?"

"I think they let you stay together if you get along," he told me.

"You didn't get along with the one from last year?"

"We didn't talk that much," he said. "He transferred, I think. I actually don't know. I remember he liked Star Wars. And goldfish."

"Did you ever fuck him?" I asked.

"He had a bowl cut, what do you think?"

"They look nice on some people," I argued.

He let out an exasperated sigh. "I never even saw him without his ugly Minecraft shirt, okay?"

"I didn't know if it was like... a pattern with you or something," I mumbled, letting him pull me to my feet as he stood.

"Well," he whispered, curling his arm around me so I was pressed against him again. "It's not. Do you feel special now?"

I leaned my head back on his shoulder, looking up at his blue eyes. "Technically, you haven't fucked me yet. So me and the dweeb are alike."

"Oh, my. You have so much in common." His phone lit up before I could respond and he walked over to pick it up. "Rolph is wondering where I am. Can we go now?"

I hadn't even realized it, but I might have been stalling a bit. After all, I had just gotten super drunk the night before and probably could have ended up dead, so I was probably right to worry about going and doing it all over again, even if Michael was there to take care of me. I just hoped he wouldn't run off with some girl and abandon me.

"Sure," I said finally. "Who's Rolph?"

"Full-time Walmart cashier, part-time drug lord."

"Drug lord?" I said. "Seriously? How do you- how do you even deal drugs? What do you do?"

He scratched the back of his head. "I have no idea. I'd assume you get drugs, and then you tell everyone that you have them, and people start showing up to buy them."

"Where do they get them? Other drug dealers? The dark web?"

"I don't know, ask him. He would love to tell you about it. It's like his life passion. Oh, and apparently it's ten dollars for an acid tab, but if you don't have ten dollars, which I completely understand, you could probably just give a blowjob."

I smiled. "I can't wait to meet him."