"I'm surprised he never mentioned me," Heather mused as she followed me over to Michael's bed.

She stood there, looking confused as I collapsed, then turned and shuffled across the room. Her curly strawberry blonde locks bounced every step. She was cute, but there was something about her that made me inexplicably mad.

I wished she would just be a bitch and then I could say something mean.

"Are you alright?" she asked, tucking her legs underneath her to sit.

I scowled. "No. I'm not."

She blinked once, then jumped up as she heard heavy footsteps near the door. "That must be him." That happy smile was back on her face.

I resisted the urge to scream into my pillow.

She opened the door to Michael standing there with a brown paper bag that was crusted with tiny sugar particles. Somehow, he had procured a shirt.

I stared at the wall, unable to even look at him. What could I have possibly been expecting? That we would wake up in each other's arms and spend our whole day wrapped up together? Stupid.

"Have at it," he said, dropping the bag onto the table by my bed. Heather tilted it to one side and gently shook out a round plain donut, then pawed through them until she selected a puffy Boston cream.

I looked at her with one eye, the other pressed shut by the pillow. She was close in height to me, but probably around ten pounds lighter. I also happened to notice that, like Kitty, she had practically no boobs.

Apparently, Michael really liked women that looked like ten-year-old boys.

"Hey," he said to me as he walked across the room. "Want a donut?"

I gave him a bright smile. "Hi, Michael, nice to see you. Guess what? Go fuck yourself."

Heather looked alarmed. "What, um, what happ-"

"Don't worry," he told her. "He gets cranky when he's hungover."

"Yes, I do," I agreed. "I get even more cranky when I get manipulated and used for my body and then left in the morning like a random Tinder date. See, Heather, I don't know how your night went, but that's what happened to me."

"Oh my goodness," she whispered. "That's awful."

"I'm sure that's not what-" Michael began uneasily.

"It is." I smiled wider. "You wouldn't really know, of course, it's not like you were there. But that's definitely what happened."

"A donut will cheer you up," he decided, then turned and slammed the bathroom door behind him.

Heather picked up the bag and carried it over to me, then sat down and placed it tentatively on the bed next to me. I rolled onto my side and stared at them for a good ten seconds, begging myself to remain strong and not give in, but eventually reached over and snatched the first jelly one I could spot.

Heather gave me an encouraging smile like I was a dying dog she was trying to feed a scrap of meat.

"So," I said as I took a huge bite out of the donut. "How did you meet the love of your life?"

"I was sitting in that little coffee shop in town when I saw him walk in. I was too shy to go up to him at first... I mean..." She blushed down at her lap. "Why would he want to talk to me..."

I narrowed my eyes.

"He sat at the table next to me. I smiled at him, and after a bit we just started talking. Every couple of days he'd be back and we'd talk again. I think those were the best moments of my life."

I raised an eyebrow, then devoured another chunk of the donut. "Funny. There's a lot of people who would say meeting that guy was the worst thing that ever happened to them."

She took a deep breath, raising her chin. "Oh?"

"Like Kitty, for example," I said casually. "Her life went downhill the second she laid eyes on him."

I paused as the bathroom door reopened. Heather and I turned our heads at the same time, watching Michael walk over to the table where he'd left the donuts, stop, then look at us. It occurred to me that within the one minute he'd been gone, I was now sitting in bed with his new girlfriend. I smirked.

"Save any for me?" he said lightly, picking up the bag.

Heather looked up, a fierce look in her eyes. "Who is Kitty?" she asked in one rushed, anxious breath.

Michael blinked, then glanced at me, then back at the donuts. "Oh, that's, uh, my cat."

"You have a cat?" she said. "Where? I love cats."

"It died," he deadpanned.

Her face fell. "Oh."

"Yeah," he said, shaking his head sadly. "Hit by a truck. Just a few days ago, actually."

"Oh my goodness," Heather gasped. "That's horrible. I'm so sorry."

I snorted, then bit into my donut to hide my laughter.

"Do you find my cat's death funny, Benjamin?" Michael said. I giggled.

"Gosh," said Heather. "That's very insensitive."

"I hated that cat," I said, my mouth full.

Heather gulped and pushed herself shakily to her feet before pacing a few steps. "Poor creature."

"It's alright," Michael said calmly. "She's in a better place." He sniffed a little and bit into the sugary donut Heather had rejected. "Anyway, are you excited for tonight?"

I looked up for a split second, then dropped my gaze as Heather nodded eagerly and tried my hardest to look uninterested.

She glanced at me shyly, combing her fingers through the ends of her curls. "We're going to dinner. It's a really big deal."

I stared at her, trying to keep the resentment out of my eyes as I forced a smile. I think I failed. "Sounds great."

"You could come too, if you wanted," Michael offered. I narrowed my eyes. "Bring that girl," he suggested.

"What girl?"

"You know, the one you left unconscious at the bar and then cried over," he said. "You seemed to like her."

"Oh," I said. "Rhoda." I smiled evilly. "You wanna know what she said to me today? She said I'm perfect for her. She said anyone would be lucky to have me. She's, like, totally in love with me."

"Cool," Michael said blandly. "So bring her."

"This is going to be so cute," Heather gushed. "Like a double date."

"Date is a strong word."

"I think it's a perfectly accurate word," I said. "What else would you call two happy couples eating dinner together?"

He sighed discontentedly and I took the moment to strategize. Rhoda, despite not striking me as the restaurant-dining type, would very likely agree to go with me. However, I had tragically made the blunder of telling her my feelings for Michael earlier, which was bound to make things awkward.

"How long have the two of you been together?" Heather asked me.

"Um..." I swallowed hard. "I don't remember. I'm very tired."

She looked disappointed. "Oh, I should go. You-"

"It's okay, I'll leave with you," Michael said. "We can let Ben sleep."

If it was possible for my heart to break any further, that did it.

"I actually should be heading home," Heather said. "I have a lot of homework. I'd like to get it done today since I won't have time tonight." I rolled my eyes. "You should too," she said to Michael. "You have a lot of catching up to do."

"Since when do you go to class?" I muttered.

"Today."

"School is for losers," I said harshly.

"I like going to class," said Heather, still as pleasant as ever.

I realized that Heather was exactly the type of girl Sarah always told me I should date. Someone who did well in studies and was nice and responsible. To be honest, Heather did seem like a good person. Better than good. She seemed like a saint.

I still hated her.

"I'll text you when I'm ready," Heather told Michael. "I have the perfect outfit picked out. I might even try to do a little makeup."

"Oh wow," I cheered sarcastically.

"Can you shut up?" Michael snapped. "Like seriously."

Heather walked with him over to the door and stopped, twisting her lips into a frown. "Maybe we shouldn't all go together," she whispered. "I don't think your roommate likes me very much."

"He's just being stupid," he said. "I'll fix him."

She sighed doubtfully then took a deep breath and opened the door. "Alright, thank you for breakfast. And do your homework," she reminded as she swung closed the door.

Michael turned around and I immediately pulled the covers over my head.

"Hey." I felt the mattress move a little as he got on it, stopping before he made contact with me. "Can we talk?"

I peeked one eye out. "Go away."

"Can- seriously?" he said as I disappeared under his heap of fluffy blankets again. "Hello?"

I knew I would have to resurface eventually, but I just closed my eyes and pretended I was invisible like a three-year-old.

Michael said nothing, and I waited for him to walk away. He didn't. I hesitantly pulled the covers down just enough to see him pull a large binder from his backpack and open it in his lap.

He glanced over at the dirty look I shot him. "Look, you can't be mad at me for being in my own bed. Yours is right over there."

I didn't answer and instead picked the spare pillows up and placed them between us like a wall.

He scoffed to himself and picked up a pen to copy down something from his phone. "So you're not speaking to me?"

I said nothing.

"Why not?"

I huffed under my breath and rolled over.

He chuckled a little before dropping his head and tearing the corner from the first piece of looseleaf paper in his binder. He scribbled something onto it, then reached over my pillow barrier to drop it onto my leg. This was like the donuts all over again. I begged myself not to pick it up, but only lasted a few agonizing seconds before surrender.

CAN YO u WRite ? he'd asked in the most atrocious handwriting I had ever seen.

I rolled my eyes and reached over the pillows to take his pen. the point of not speaking is to not communicate IDIOT, I wrote, then crumpled the paper and threw it at him.

He smiled and opened it happily like it was a love letter or something. I bit my lip until it stung and turned my head away from him, trying to hide the smile slowly growing on my face.

In a moment or so he handed the paper back to me and I looked down at the sad frowning face he had drawn. It was kind of cute for some reason. Stop it, I scolded myself. Are you seriously going to let a little frowny face win you back?

I responded with an even sadder frowny face and threw it over the pillow wall.

Michael sighed and turned towards me. I kept my eyes glued on my hands, a weird guilty feeling creeping up my neck and making me shiver. He sat up, pushed his stuff aside, and started climbing over the pillows.

"No!" I yelled, picking one up to hit him with.

He flinched as the pillow smacked him in the face and then ripped it out of my hands and pulled me up so close we almost collided. "Just talk to me," he demanded.

I sucked in my breath, unable to speak, then before I could stop myself lurched forward and kissed him hard, gripping the back of his head to keep him in place. He didn't struggle, just worked his arms under mine up to my shoulders and pressed me against him, warming my body.

I leaned my weight on him as I kissed deeper, making him rock back and tighten his hold on me. My legs untwined from his and wrapped around his waist, and he slid his hand under me and lifted me into his lap, the other tugging my hair as I bit down on his lip.

I had never kissed him just once for this long. It was as if we'd spent a year apart and were just reuniting now.

I ended the kiss slowly, savoring it in case it was our last, and rested my forehead on his. I had so many feelings that begged to escape me, but no way to say them.

He touched my arm, running his fingers down my skin to my hand and slowly taking it. "Why are you so mad at me?" he asked, his voice soft. I couldn't tell if he was actually sad or this was just more manipulation.

I met his eyes. "I didn't know you had a girlfriend."

"Heather? She's not really my girlfriend. I talk to way too many girls for that."

I had to physically force myself not to chew my lip. "She thinks she's your girlfriend."

"We-" he started.

"Was I not good enough?" I said suddenly.

"Huh?"

"Last night. You got up and went downstairs to fuck Meg," I said. "So obviously fucking me didn't satisfy you."

He moved closer to me, dropping my hand to put his arm around my back. "It's not that," he whispered. "I just couldn't sleep. And I got bored lying there. I was watching you sleep for a while, but then that felt creepy so I left."

"And fucked your ex," I added.

He smirked. "Yeah."

"Fucking slut." He snickered and I took a swing at his face.

He ducked backward easily and dropped onto his back as I crawled over him in pursuit. "Did you forget you also had sex with Amy?" he pointed out. "That's literally the same amount of people as me."

"What you did is worse," I argued.

A confused laugh bubbled from his lips. "What? How?"

I couldn't think of a logical answer, so I just kept play-hitting him until some of my anger subsided.

Maybe, if I just pretended it was a joke, we could move on and he would never know how much he'd hurt me. It wasn't like I wanted to admit to being jealous anyway. Then it was like we were some kind of thing.

"That's cute," he murmured as I lay defeated next to him. He touched my hand and rubbed his thumb over where Rhoda had drawn on my hand.

I glanced at it. "Yeah." Then a darker, more unpleasant thought came to mind. "Did you, um, did you make Meg get the M tattooed on her... uh..."

He paused before letting out a chuckle. "You noticed that? No. I was against the idea, but she insisted."

"Well she's nuts then," I said. "So is Heather."

"Heather's literally the sweetest girl ever," Michael said. "She's kind and patient, and fine, maybe she's a little sensitive, but at least I can introduce her to my mom."

"I think she's stupid," I said, much more sulkily than I'd wished.

"Then it's a good thing you're not the one dating her, hmm?" He gave my head a pat and got up, walking back over to the side of the bed where he'd left his computer. He opened the binder and pulled out the torn sheet, then balled it up and tossed it over his table into the mini trashcan. "See that?" he said. "See how awesome that was?"

"Uh-huh," I murmured dryly.

He grinned and ripped out another sheet to form a compact ball, then sat up and threw it at the trashcan. This time it bounced off the rim and plopped to the floor.

"I thought you're a basketball player," I said, walking over on my knees to rip out a paper.

"I am," he snapped.

I crumpled the paper, then tried my best to copy his shooting stance. I missed.

"It's a good thing you don't play sports," Michael commented.

"I played soccer," I said defensively. "In sixth grade."

He scoffed and took out a new sheet. "Sports aren't for little short people like you," he said. I scowled and shoved him as he was about to throw the ball, making it fall just short of his table. "Hey," he protested.

I took a paper and tried for a second time, squinting to line it up just right in my line of vision. I overshot and wound up four feet from the target.

"It's alright," Michael said. "I'm not very good at this either." I watched as he tossed the next paper in a perfect arc into the trashcan.

"I'm not good at anything," I muttered.

"You're good at..." He paused, considering as he traced a compacted paper with his finger. "Well, there's gotta be something."

"No," I said forlornly. "I'm stupid, boring, I have zero talents and ambitions... I'll probably end up working at Walmart with Rolph."

"Rolph's cool," he said.

"Yeah, but he's not..." I trailed off, watching him continue to play his game obliviously, and sank down into the depth of my pillows. I hated him for the way he saw things. Simple and inconsequential. I hated that he never understood why anything he did was wrong.

Most of all, I hated the fact that, despite everything I disliked about him, he was still all I wanted.

╭-°—✞—˚✧❨✧˚—✞—°-╮

╰-°—✞—˚✧❨✧˚—✞—°-╯

Six hours, one nap, and two classes later, I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, pulling my dress shirt up a little where I'd tucked it into my pants. A drop of water from my hair ran down the bridge of my nose.

I buttoned the top button, then frowned at my reflection and unbuttoned it again. "I hate this," I complained. "We both look stupid."

Michael looked up from the picture Heather had sent him of her in a dress with her hair done up. "I think I look nice, thank you."

The last time I'd worn anything even remotely formal was prom. I'd decided to go with a tie, but I couldn't figure out how to tie it, so Sarah and I had spent twenty minutes trying to learn online. I still didn't know how.

"You didn't have to invite me along just so I don't feel left out, you know," I said. "I can find something else to do."

"I just thought it would be a little less awkward if there were a few different people there instead of just me and her," he said. "I don't know her too well. We have, like, nothing in common."

I watched him start to type a reply. "Why are you dating her then?"

"Because people like me aren't worth dating," he answered simply.

I rubbed my nose. "True. You fucking suck."

He looked up, smiling with half his mouth. "You know, this date is way out of my comfort zone. I like to keep things low-key. So I actually appreciate you coming with me."

I found it interesting that he had insecurities, and was willing to admit them to me. He always seemed so confident in everything. "I'm just going for the free food," I told him.

He reached for his cologne bottle and sprayed it twice a few inches from his neck. "I should get going. Are you gonna pick up Rhoda?"

"Mhm," I murmured. I still had to ask her. My plan was to just show up at her door and hope for the best.

"Well then," he said, pushing himself off the wall. "I guess I'll see you there."

I bit down hard on my inner cheek. "Bye."

"Hey." He grabbed my waist as I walked out of the bathroom, making me freeze up at his touch. "Promise you'll be good?"

I smirked a little. In the shower, I had already gone over a long list of ways I could get revenge and ruin everyone's time. Not that I planned on doing any of them. But it was fun.

"We'll have to see, won't we?" I teased.

He gripped me harder and dragged me back, keeping me stuck in place by the wall. "Please? Just don't... like, purposely instigate something?"

My eyes involuntarily softened, and I cursed myself for liking him so much. "I won't try to fuck it up," I allowed.

He sighed and leaned back, loosening his hold on me. "Thanks."

I looked at him, specifically his downcast eyes, which hadn't looked this unhappy since the day he'd broken up with Kitty. I thought about when I was nervous to go hang out with Rhoda for the first time and he'd done nothing but be encouraging and give me advice.

Damn it. I reached over and squeezed his hand. "It's gonna be fine," I said quietly.

"I hope," he said.

I gave him a ghostly smile and let go, stopping on my way out to grab my keys. The last donut was next to them. I broke off a piece and nibbled on it as I bounced down the stairs. Now I just needed to invite my new friend on a date with the man I loved and his girlfriend.