I woke to an irritating buzzing against my side.

I'd fallen asleep with my phone buried in the covers of Michael's bed, and at some point in the night it had gotten wedged right into the soft skin between my rib and hip.

I reached over clumsily, grasping it, my other arm raising to scrub at my tired eyes. Too bright. There was too much light in the room for morning. That must mean-

"Shit!" I hissed. "Not again. Fuck, fuck fuck."

"Morning," Michael murmured as I was sitting up. His voice came out much huskier than I'd been prepared for and I almost lost focus of my current objective: finding a charger for my phone, which was currently at a whopping 8%.

"I'm late," I yelled at him. "I'm late, I'm late, I'm late again. Oh my god, I'm literally gonna get kicked out. Holy shit."

"What are you, the white rabbit?"

I ignored him and bounded across the room to the tangle of wires beneath my mini desk. Yesterday afternoon, I'd convinced Rhoda to accompany me to finally check out a campus laptop - a task she hadn't been fond of, as it involved venturing into the Land of the Nerds.

I tore the cord charging it from the outlet and replaced it with the one for my phone, then hastily jogged into the bathroom. With Michael's big green sweatshirt on, I looked even smaller than usual. But for the first time ever, it didn't make me feel bad.

I was hot.

Just not in the way I'd spent my whole life wanting.

The shuffling sound of him plodding over cut short my self-appreciation, and I scowled as he yawned deeply in the base of his throat and leaned on the wall for balance.

"Go away," I said.

"I gotta take a piss."

I rolled my eyes and pulled the hoodie over my head to drop on the ground. "Fine."

He smirked at me as he lifted the toilet seat. "Did you know when you run around your dick goes like this. Du-du-du." He made a swaying motion with his index finger.

"Don't look at my dick, weirdo." Yet as I spoke the words my gaze traveled downward, a subconscious reaction to the topic. His was standing straight up.

Thus commenced the next awkward sixty seconds of me, naked, waiting for the shower to heat up and Michael, also naked, engaging in a comical lunge over the toilet to relieve himself.

"You're an idiot," I commented.

"Yeah?" he said weakly, straining forward to plant one hand on the tank. "What do you do then? Since you're so perfect."

God damnit. "Uh, I usually, like, wait. Or just..." I took a deep, dreading breath. "Sit. Sometimes."

He looked back with the ultimate wolf's grin. "Of course you do."

"That's not very nice," I said.

"You piss like a girl, nothing you say matters."

"So," I said, my eyes glued to the shower wall. "Got any plans for today?"

"Mm, might try to make it to class. Gotta hit the gym. Wanna come? We could recreate our first kiss."

I cringed and shook my head in disgust.

"I was watching these workout videos yesterday? The guy was so fucking shredded, man. And he had his girl and was doing curls with her as a weight and, like, squats with her on his back." He stopped suddenly and whirled around. "We should have a pushup contest."

"No," I said. I would lose.

"Come on, it'd be fun." He hopped up and down.

"I have to go to class," I told him, trying to sound as apologetic as possible. I left the shower running and got out, careful to avoid bumping him.

"Hold on," he said, and I flinched away before we could come into contact. "At least eat some breakfast, okay? I'm kinda worried about you dying."

I slammed the sliding door shut with a particularly sardonic smile. "Thanks."

He pumped out a dollop of shampoo and raised his arms to start scrubbing it through his hair, making his rippling abs and sharp V-line stand out further from the pose. "We could go somewhere. Get one of those veggie egg burritos or something."

As he spoke I glanced at him with fleeting eyes, trying to keep my mind in a clean place. I was, by now, pretty familiar with seeing his body - and the sight certainly wasn't getting old - but it represented everything dark in my mind. The jealousy, the lust, the thrill of being repulsed by my own thoughts, the desires to do the things I had sworn not to-

"You're staring again," he observed slyly.

I let out an angry sigh and dried myself haphazardly with a crusty towel lying crumpled in the sink.

"It makes sense," he said. "I am oftentimes mesmerized by my own beauty..."

With an eye roll I left to get dressed from the pickings of my clothes pile. Michael was right; I had to do laundry soon. Which made me think of Sarah. It was getting to be about the time we would normally meet for lunch.

"Change of plans," I called into the bathroom. "I'm gonna try to get Sarah back."

"Bad idea," Michael shouted.

"She's gotta get over this thing eventually."

"I don't know, man." I paused to listen, scowling at the socks I was attempting to force on. "Sometimes it's better to just let people go."

"You're one to talk, you're still friends with your crazy ex," I snapped.

Ninety percent of the time, Sarah did nothing but annoy me. But there were occasions in which I realized I was lucky to have her companionship for so long. And if she could put up with me being an emotionally draining dud, I should be able to put up with her nagging and ranting.

"Can I borrow a shirt?" I said, despite still having a couple shirts.

"Sure."

I smiled and skipped over to his drawer. Perhaps this was how Sarah felt during her thrifting phase, where every Sunday for three months she would force Andrea to drive her out to a different Goodwill.

The top shirt was a faded navy blue and read NBA - Natural Born Alcoholics with the NBA logo guy holding a beer instead of a basketball. Stupid. I put it on anyway.

I peeked into the bathroom before I left, where Michael stood before the sink, the same disgusting towel I'd used now tied around his waist, a light coat of shaving cream spread over the lower half of his face. "Maybe I need to shave," I mused, running my fingers over my jaw.

"Hmm." He squinted, pretending to consider. "Nah." I glowered at him and leaned back, my grouch face staying on as he physically slid me forward with one arm on my waist and gave the side of my mouth a wet kiss. "Have a good day."

I sniffed and wiped my cheek with my pinky where a spot of shaving cream had smudged. "Mhm."

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It was nerve-racking, being alone in the cafeteria.

I bought myself a bag of Doritos from the vending machine to look busy as I scanned the room for her. There were people with pink hair, neon yellow hair, even one dude with a half-red, half-white mohawk. I didn't see any blue hair.

And then, out the window, a girl sitting alone caught my eye. There was only one problem.

For the first time since eighth grade, Sarah didn't have blue hair.

It was now a shimmering purple, cut short to her jaw and styled in tight waves. I stared for a moment too long, studying first the new, almost unrecognizable look, then her face. She kept her eyes down on her phone, as if she was in her own little world and unaware of everyone around her.

It was out of character for her; usually she was looking at everything and pointing out random people to me to laugh at.

My teeth dug into the inside of my cheek. C'mon, Ben, you've walked up to her more times than anyone else, just do it.

I felt my palms start clamming up, and I almost lost my grip on the Doritos. I forced my feet to carry me over to the exit door, unthinking, like my brain was a parasite controlling my body remotely.

It was colder than ever outside, but she didn't seem bothered. The side of her head leaned against the brick wall of the building, her knees bent and huddled in front of her in her chair.

I stopped beside her, and when she didn't look up, I wondered if she really didn't notice me or she was doing it purposely. I paused, then tossed my chips over so they landed right in front of her face.

She jumped back, smacking her shoulder on the metal rim of the seat. Her pale lips dropped open for a split second, and then her eyes darkened as she recognized me and she began hurriedly gathering up her things.

"Sarah-" I started.

"I don't wanna talk to you."

"Sarah, just slow down," I said, jumping in front of her. "Sit down. Let's talk. Like adults."

She whipped her head around and met my eyes, burning me with her stare. "Is that even possible for you?"

"Yes," I said calmly, though I conceded privately it probably wasn't. Over the years she and I had gotten in countless fights. Some so bad we needed Andrea to come in and meditate while we each shouted our side of the argument. For some reason, she almost always sided with me. It made me feel special.

"I, just so you know, have been doing so much self-improvement lately," Sarah said proudly. "Look. Did you see my hair? I cut my hair. I, like, really cut it, because it's time. You know? You know when it's time? To just-" She made a snipping motion with her hand. "All new."

"I liked the blue," I said.

"Well anyway. I've also been listening to a lot of Kelly Clarkson. Catch My Breath, Stronger, Mr. Know It All." She blinked. "Since U Been Gone."

I sighed and pressed two fingers against my temple. "We didn't have a breakup, Sarah."

"It felt like one!" she retorted, her beaded bracelets crashing against the table. More than a few heads turned our way. We both stared at them, then each other, and then she glided uncomfortably back into her seat. "Why do you even wanna talk?"

I sat across from her. "Because we're friends. It's sad to just stop being friends over a disagreement."

"I miss us, like, actually having fun," she said. "You're the biggest mood killer I've ever met. What do you even think about all day? Or is your mind just as blank as your face every time I try to speak to you?"

I wanted to get defensive so bad, wanted to start shouting about everything I'd dealt with all my life and how confused and stressed I was, but that meant actually opening up and giving her what she wanted.

"How about you?" I said finally. "You get to drag me to stupid parties so you can make all these friends, but the second I go out on my own it's some huge betrayal. You think I had fun there? I just walked around while you got wasted and ended up in a fucking car accident."

"What?"

I took a deep breath and tried to still my rage. So much for civil conversation. "Yeah, the impala got rammed."

She bit the corner of her lips as they formed a laughing frown. "Not Pookie."

"Its name is not Pookie."

"Yes it is. You let me pick." She smiled, then blinked away like she'd caught herself slipping. "Listen, Ben, I just feel like... sometimes... you make it really hard to be your friend."

My heart sank a little. She was right. She was so, so right. And if even Sarah didn't want to deal with me anymore, why would anyone else? Was I just punishing everyone around me with my presence?

"I have class in ten minutes," she told me. "I'm gonna go upstairs and get my stuff."

"Okay." I tried to make my face look as pitiful as I could, which apparently I was good at. "Sorry for bothering you, I guess. I'll leave you alone."

"Good."

I turned back, jaw dropped. She grinned.

I rolled my eyes and knocked my shoulder against hers, then debated whether to take the Doritos as she held the door behind her. I had spent my good money on them. "Oh my god, ew!" she shouted as I jogged to catch up.

"What?"

"Where'd you get that hideous shirt, bitch?" she said.

I looked down. "Uh... I... bought it."

She scoffed. "No way. It looks fifty years old."

"I... I've always had this shirt, Sarah."

"No. You hate sports and you hate-" She tossed her hand up. "Beer. I literally know every single shirt you own and you do not own that shirt."

"Okay, let's pretend that's not totally fucking creepy - don't you think you should stay friends with the guy you have the entire wardrobe of memorized?"

She lapsed into a long, sulking silence. "Probably."

"Right," I said as we shoved our way through the obstacle course of pushed-back chairs inside. One clipped my side. "Oh, totally unrelated, do you think you could help me with the laundry again? 'Cuz I still have no idea how-"

"Oh my god, did I tell you about the guy in my calc class?" she exclaimed over me. "I'm going there right now."

"Yeah, but the laundry-"

"He's really cute, wait, just let me tell you," she said. "He seems nice. That's what I'm going for. Nice."

"Do you even know his name?" I asked.

Upon entering the B Building dorm, I was once again reminded of the nice, non-life-threatening stairs they were blessed with. I bet the elevator was in working order as well.

"Not yet," said Sarah. "We haven't exactly, you know, had an exchange of words, per se. But I have him in my sights."

I frowned. "What if he's some psycho?"

"I guess I'll find out," she said.

Maria was in their room, sitting cross-legged on her bed, her tiger brows crimped in deep concentration as she flicked her eyes back-and-forth from an open textbook, jotting down notes.

"'Sup?" Sarah greeted before tossing her bag down at the foot of her own bed and lifting two folders to stuff inside. I noted the snide glare the other girl gave her turned back. Drama?

"Hi," I said, after a moment of silence, in an attempt to be friendly. Maybe it came off as too peppy. Or maybe she didn't even notice. I could never tell how many of my worries were purely overthinking and how many were justified.

Maria looked up, surveying me within a second. "Hey."

Great, what do I say now? Why am I so horrible at talking to people? "What are you doing?" I asked, my hands leisurely swinging behind me.

If she hadn't seemed annoyed before, she certainly did now. "Homework. Zielinski gave us twenty-two pages to read."

"I hear he's a dick," Sarah said as she zipped up the bag again. She'd taken off her jacket so she wore only a macaroon tank top, then moved to her dresser and dug through a few shirts. "I have to look cute. Help."

Maria yawned, then flipped back a few pages in her notebook to a partial sketch of a grassy meadow. I imagined it to be the kind of thing Heather would draw. I wondered if Maria would like Heather.

"That's nice," I said.

In return I received the most blatant stop-talking-to-me stare of my life.

"I need mascara," Sarah announced. I looked over, waiting until she'd rushed to the bathroom to amble over and sit down next to Maria.

"So, whatever, uh, whatever happened with... Alicia?" I said, keeping my voice low.

She was quiet for a moment, eyes on her paper again as she began shading the sky to form wisps of cloud. "Um," she murmured slowly. "Why are you asking?"

"I just-" I stopped, suddenly panicked. It was, after all, absolutely none of my business. I probably sounded like a creep. "I guess I just wanted to know if it, like, worked out."

She sniffed a little and fiddled with her pencil, tapping it against the page. "Nah, she... I don't mean anything to her. She just wanted to try something and I'm..." She gave a tiny, bitter chuckle. "I'm the girl for that, right?"

An ache had formed in my chest, sympathy and an odd hopelessness. "I'm sorry," I whispered.

"Why, do you talk to her?"

I frowned. "No."

A dry smile crept onto her lips. "Weren't you gonna be her date at that party?"

"Uh, no," I said. "That was all Sarah's idea. She's kinda, I don't know. Obsessed with picking girls for me."

Maria's brow furrowed. "That's weird, dude."

I nodded while she shifted her position to lower her feet to the floor. She had on pajama bottoms with little moose on them. It was kinda cute.

A loud clattering and a shriek came from the bathroom, and then Sarah came rushing out, a smear of lipgloss across her mouth and eyelashes sporting clumps of black. "Time to go, time to go," she chanted.

I chewed my lips.

"Whatcha talking about?" Sarah asked.

"Nothing," I said.

She ignored me, busy staring down at her phone with a huge grin. She started giggling and bouncing on her toes as she typed something, then whirled around and stared at us, as if waiting for an invitation to share.

I swallowed painfully. "What?"

"Okay, fine. I'll tell you. I..." She took a huge breath and tilted her eyes to the ceiling. "I'm going on a date. Like- like an actual date, just me and him, I'm so, so scared, and-" She broke off into a high-pitched squeal and gripped my hands to swing back and forth as she danced around.

Maria glanced at us with a sideways smirk of amusement. I met her eyes, then quickly looked back to Sarah, who still looked ecstatic, and tried to form a smile. "Who's the date with?"

"Carter," she breathed. "He canceled on the group thing and I thought he didn't like me but... what?"

"Don't. He's a fuckboy, he was out banging Amy and probably like fifty other girls. And then you'll get your heart broken and cry." Probably to me. Which would be annoying.

Sarah's smile disappeared like a melting ice cube. "Amy? When?"

"I dunno, over the weekend."

A heaving sigh of disappointment came from Sarah, who, arms crossed, retreated across the room and fell into a heavy seat on her bed. "Why do you always have to be so negative? Why couldn't you have just said, oh, that's nice, Sarah, I'm so glad you're actually happy for once and I really hope this goes well for you..."

"Fine," I snapped, raising my hands. "I won't warn you ever again."

"It's probably just a rumor!" she shouted. "Where'd you even hear that?"

I blinked, thinking of the fit Sarah would throw if she ever found out what had gone down between Amy and me. "Doesn't matter."

"Exactly, so you don't even know. Just let me do this!"

"Whatever," I muttered, scooting back to pull my own phone from my pocket.

Maria peered over her shoulder. "Don't lie in my bed."

I mumbled wordlessly and turned onto my side, bending my legs as I scrolled through my notifications. It was a shame Rhoda and I had gotten permanently kicked out of history. I liked going to class with her.

I suddenly twisted like a frying ant when the sharp tip of Maria's mechanical pencil stabbed into my back. "Ow!" I shouted. "That's my kidney!"

"Out," she ordered.

I groaned and marched across the room to Sarah, who was smiling at her phone again, her quarrel with me forgotten. "Don't you have class?" I said.

"One second. I'm asking Carter if it's true."

I kept chewing on a flap of broken skin from my lip, then opened Instagram. Amy still hadn't followed me back. I went on her page and liked her most recent picture as a reminder.

Additionally on my feed was Sarah, who had uploaded three separate posts to show off her purple hair, and Rhoda, lying on a silky duvet and dressed in a red wrap dress that accentuated her hourglass waist. The tip of her tongue was curled to graze her top lip.

Blinking away before I became hypnotized, I instantly frowned as I saw the preview of comments. Someone named Kevin C had written dayummmm mama 🤤 dm me