[a/n: i hope you all enjoy this SURPRISE bonus chapter! i got this idea while i was throwing out some of my college papers and imagined what college would be like for Ari & Luke. thank you all for reading and i love you!]

//

ARI.

I was one shot away from getting sloppy.

And being a sloppy drunk was something I avoided at all costs. Tonight however, was the exception. At 12:50PM today, I turned in my last final exam-- ever. The last four years of my college career was 95% completed and I, Ari Quiroz, was ready to start a life undedicated to endless hours studying, 12-page term papers, or archaic fraternity parties that breaded assholes to use date-rape drugs. So not cool. But in two days, that 5% would be savagely met, making me an official alumni.

Commencement.

Thousands of dollars spent, plus an extra $130 for graduation fees, all added up to a beige colored piece of paper. That 11" by 14" sheet of card stock seemed so simple, but to me, and the rest of my graduating class, that parchment was the physical prize in exchange for working extremely hard for the last four years. And that's why I was here. Sitting on a wooden barstool, in a packed bar, downing shots of Patron while I documented my tipsy escapades for all my Snapchat followers to see.

"A round of Jäger Bombs on me!" I announced, coercing my fellow graduating friends to indulge on a little more libation on my open tab.

"Seriously?" Pam, my roommate and engineering graduate, gawked at me dumbfounded. "Are you trying to kill us?"

"Kill you?" I scoffed, "never. Getting you ridiculously drunk that a hangover, blurry photos, and sore feet become the only evidence of the damn awesome night? Oh yes!"

Pam rolled her eyes, but not without a smile, "we fucking deserve it, don't we?"

"Fuck yea, we do!" Ronnie, another friend of mine and Communications colleague, chimed merrily in.

"That's the spirit!" I patted Ronnie heartedly on the back, but trying to avoid wrinkling his black, chiffon top.

I learned my lesson freshman year when I accidentally stepped on his Anastasia Brow Pencil and cracked it in half. I knew from that day forward not to mess with a man's most prized possessions-- and that Ronnie will have the best sculpted eyebrows in all of Newcoast University.

"Hey Boomer!" I called out to my favorite bartender behind the bar who was currently tossing alcohol-filled shakers in the air before catching them behind his back. A group of girls giggled at his show, thoroughly pleased.

Boomer, without a doubt, was a ladies' man, and all of Newcoast's female population plus Ronnie, wanted a piece of his firm ass-- not that I looked at it or accidentally grabbed it once. Because I was the 1% that didn't ride him like a pony, he and I grew to become friends.

"What can I get for ya Ari?" Boomer threw me a head nod, as he filled short glass cups with some fruity mixed drink for the ogling girls before him.

"A round of Jäger Bombs, please!" I told him, "on my tab."

"Anything for you Ari," Boomer quickly replied, stepping back and setting the shaker in his hand on the counter behind him. "Oh and Ari?"

"What's up?" I smiled.

"The Jäger Bombs will be on my tab tonight. Congrats graduate," Boomer winked, accompanied with a million-dollar-grin that had all the girls dropping their panties.

And Ronnie too.

"Ugh, he's so sexy. The illegal shit I would do to him," Ronnie snarled, his light brown eyes sparkling with dirty fantasies. "Seriously, Ari if you don't jump on his 'D', I will."

"She can't do that!" Pam angrily intervened.

"And why not?" Ronnie raised an eyebrow, throwing a hand to his hip.

"Because Ari is still taken," Pam declared matter-of-factly.

I couldn't believe this conversation was being brought up-- again. Of all the evenings for Ronnie and Pam passionately discuss my love life, or lack thereof, they would choose the one night in which I wanted to celebrate with smiles, not wine, chocolate ice cream, and watching "The Last Song" for the millionth time.

"In case you forgot Pamela, Ari is on a break," Ronnie brought up, "and at midnight," he paused to point to his gold wristwatch, "it will be a three-month break... that's basically not together anymore."

"In case you forgot Ronald, Ari is on a break," Pam emphasized the word, narrowing in her eyebrows at Ronnie, "br-eak. As in a hiatus, as in a pause, as in an interruption."

"An interruption called college," all three pairs of our eyes all snapped over the the new voice that suddenly jumped into our-- their-- conversation.

Ariel stood next to Ronnie holding glass cup in her hand. Only ice sat at the bottom of the vessel, not one tiny drop of whatever was previously in her cup was left. Ariel was a photo journalism major but unlike the three of us, the pretty girl who was often mistaken for a Sorority leader was also double-majoring in dance and needed an extra year to graduate.

"Speaking of interruptions," Ronnie's sass switch turned on so fast as he scoffed at Ariel's presence. Ever since his favorite fashion blog decided to feature Ariel's trendy and sleek college style as oppose to his, Ronnie stopped liking her.

"Luke just wants to live a real college experience," Ariel shrugged. She looked at me, resting a gentle hand on my shoulder, "you're better off without him Ari. You should experience life without attachment too."

"Oo, girl!" Ronnie slapped Ariel's hand away from my shoulder before standing from his stool, "you're only saying that because you want to swoop in on Luke's fine ass! I know you've had your eyes on him ever since freshman year."

Ariel threw her free hand up in defense, "just cause I'm on a diet, doesn't mean I can't look at the menu. Besides Boomer, Luke Hemmings is one of the hottest commodities on the Newcoast campus."

I still couldn't believe this conversation was going on. It was like I wasn't sitting in between the three of them as they riled each other up. The topic of Luke had to be diminished, otherwise I wouldn't make it through the night.

"Guys! Guys! Guys!" I yelled, holding both my arms in the air and waving them frantically in hopes that my awkward movements would catch their attention. "Can we please stop talking about Luke? I just wanna celebrate all our hard work. Senior year took me by the balls, swung me into the depths of Hell, and brought me back, only for me to suffer again during finals. I wanna have fun tonight."

I darted my eyes from Pam, to Ronnie, and then to Ariel who all stood in silence. As I gazed at them with an unspoken plea, the trio glanced back with guilt etched on their faces.

"I'm sorry," Pam was the first to apologize, who draped an arm around my shoulder and pulled me in for a side hug.

"Me too," Ronnie chimed in, draping his arm in the same fashion as Pam.

"Me three," Ariel hugged me from behind and while I appreciated her sympathy, Ronnie didn't approve. I could sense his dagger-like gazes piercing into Ariel and before I knew it, the warmth from her embrace was gone.

"We'll stop talking about Luke, but one more thing," Ronnie held up his perfectly polished index finger.

I sighed, "what?"

"Ariel wasn't wrong," Ronnie admitted.

My jaw dropped and I wasn't sure I was hearing that correctly. Ronnie was actually agreeing with Ariel?

"Gay-boy-say-what?" Pam and I leaned back in our chairs, hands to our chest, in complete shock with Ronnie's unforeseeable statement.

"I know, I know," Ronnie groaned, "I'm trying to fight back the vomit just thinking about it."

"Please explain," Pam demanded, leaning into the conversation.

"Ari, you've been with Luke since you were 18. You're 22 now. That's four years in a solid relationship, most of it through what credible scholars say are the most experimental years of our lives," Ronnie illustrated.

"What scholar said that?" Pam questioned, clearly unconvinced of Ronnie's citation. "Not your idol Beyonce, I'm sure."

"Don't bring The Queen into this," Ronnie quickly defended, with ire.

"Guys!" I yelled, causing my two friends to cease their bickering, "finish your statement, please! I'm so done with this conversation."

"Sorry," Ronnie shrugged guiltily, "what I want to say is that Luke probably just wanted to experience the crazy side of college."

"He's in a fraternity!" I voiced, "not just any frat, he's a Lambda Chi. The most sought-out frat among incoming freshman and they throw the best parties. You can't get any crazier than that."

"Luke has been a Lambda Chi since his freshman year. Why does he suddenly want to go on a break, now? If he wanted to hook up with other girls, why not just break up with Ari from the beginning?"

Pam didn't make that statement to hurt me, I know she didn't. But her words cut me straight to the core and I was itching more and more for that Jäger. I'll admit, I didn't totally agreed with Luke rushing, but I was never unsupportive for him either. I wanted him to find new friends, and I enjoyed seeing him have fun at his Frat events. I even cheered him on as he did push-ups while doing a keg stand. But that Greek life wasn't for me and those Lambda Chi parties got old.

"Maybe I shouldn't have stopped coming to his Frat events?" I shrugged with a pout, suddenly feeling crappy about the topic. This is why I didn't want to talk about Luke. That boy knew how to mess with my emotions.

"Honey, don't feel bad," Ronnie quickly quipped, "you're a great girlfriend for trusting him and letting him have fun with his Frat brothers without you. Other girls would go psycho-- especially if they had a hot boyfriend like Luke."

"Okay, we're done," Pam declared, sensing the discomfort that was radiating all around me, "we're done talking about you-know-who. Besides," she looked over to Boomer who was finally placing our order in front of us, "our drinks are here."

"Finally," I grumbled. I really needed this.

"Three orders of Jäger Bombs," Boomer displayed three glasses of Redbull and next to it, were shots filled to the brim of the dark alcohol.

Pam, Ronnie, and I each took a pair before looking at one another with mischievous eyes. As we did, Boomer, the other bartenders, and their bar-backs surrounded the three of us. I gazed at him with mercy.

"Guys, I know what happens next, but can please we skip it?" I pled, lacing my fingers together in attempt to sway their 'bomb shot protocol.'

"Ari," Boomer began, an incredulous grin on his face, "you know why this bar is called Bombs Away."

And alas, I did know why. He, nor any other employee at this fine establishment had to explain it to me. Every time someone orders a bomb shot drink such as a Sake Bomb, an Irish Car Bomb, or in my case, a Jäger Bomb, the bartenders and bar-backs on the shift come together to instigate "alcoholic chuggery."

"Just let them do it," Pam insisted, as she eyed the other cute bartender.

"Fine," I gave in, though it wasn't hard to because what was about to happen, was always great motivation to finish a drink.

"Ready!" Boomer's voice boded excellent with his nickname as his deep voice boomed through the loud bar. "Set!"

"Bomb's away!" The bartenders and bar-backs screamed at the top of their lungs, and it was that familiar phrase that cued it all.

Pam, Ronnie, and I each took our shot of Jäger and dropped it into the cup of Redbull. Then without any hesitation, we began to down the mixture.

"Chug! Chug! Chug!" The entire room of college students yelled, pounding on the bar top, and motivating the three of us to finish our alcoholic beverage.

In less than 30-seconds, Pam, Ronnie, and I smacked our cups down onto the bar. Not a single drop remained as we wiped our mouths with the back of our hands. Well, Pam and I did. Ronnie neatly tapped the edges of his mouth to avoid botching the Kylie lipstick that nicely adorned his lips.

The entire bar bursted into cheers when we finished and it was that kind of excitement that made me forget all about Luke and the previous conversation. My two friends and I made our way to the dance floor and grooved to crappy remixes of our favorite songs. This night was turning for the better and this post-final celebration was filled with more laughter and more horrible dance moves than I could ever ask for.

But all that dancing sloshed the alcohol around in our stomachs, and soon we were dying for some greasy indulgence. So as we walked back to the bar to close out our tabs, we discussed where to eat.

"I'm craving a burger," Pam declared before burping and giggling at herself.

"Bitch, me too!" Ronnie agreed, "let's call the Uber and haul asses over to Dale's Burger and Brewery."

"Can we," hiccup, "go s-somewhere," hiccup, "else?"

"Where?" Pam asked, grabbing ahold of the bar's edge to keep her steady.

"Jack-In-The-box?" I suggested.

"No way," Ronnie interjected, "we're celebrating and we need the good shit! Besides, you love that place. Why do you suddenly have a hankering for Jack-In-The-Crack?"

"You k-know w-why," I stammered, holding in my belches, "think about the location."

It was less than seven seconds later when Pam chimed in excitedly, "Dale's is near Greek Row! Did I get it? Do I win?"

"Oh. My. Gooosh," Ronnie was annoyed, "don't let Fratboy Luke run your life! Besides he's probably too busy doing keg stands to leave the confines of the frat house."

"Come on, let's go," Pam pressed, "they have the best fries and guacamole. I want guacamole, and I don't fucking care how much extra it is!"

I guessed in a sense Ronnie was right. I couldn't let Luke run my life. We went on a break, and I was supposed to use this time to do things for me. But during the time in which my brain wasn't occupied with school work, it was busy thinking about Luke. It didn't help that we were still Facebook buddies, or followers of each other's Instagram-- his social media posts drove me insane.

"Fine," I pouted, "we'll go to Dale's. But wait one moment," I diverted my attention from Ronnie and Pam, to Boomer who was approaching us, "I need two shots of Patron and then close my tab. Thanks."

Pam and Ronnie gawked at me with wide-eyes and dropped jaws. And they still stood with more amazement as I took each shot of tequila and downed them without a grimace. Tossing the lime wedges into the shot glass, I turned around and took a deep exhale out.

"Ready," I grinned at my friends, whose surprised gazes had quickly turned into respect as they each linked an arm with my arms.

"Good thing I put a case of water into the fridge and bought some more Advil," Pam addressed with a sense of pride, predicting of what our morning will consist of.

Our Uber ride from the bar to Dale's Burger and Brewery took about ten minutes. The downtown streets of Arden Heights where Newcoast University was situated, was filled with college students and non-college students looking for a good time. Downtown Arden Heights was the place to be when we wanted to stay close to University and didn't want to make the 20-mile trip to San Diego.

The burger joint was loud, busy, and smelled strongly of grease-- which I so badly wanted into my system. After Pam, Ronnie, and I ordered our meals, we found a seat in one of the booths. Our food came to us faster than expected and the moment my eyes landed on the beautiful, juicy, cheesy burger in front of me, my mouth started to salivate. We wasted no time in digging in and as we did, I heard a very familiar tune drift into my ears.

The rock song was a classic, and would always be one of my favorites. By this point in the night, the last two shots of tequila were starting to kick in, and man, did I want to dance. So I did. I grabbed a french fry, stood on top of the bench, and began rocking out to a song that made me incredibly happy.

"All the, small things. True care, truth brings..."

I didn't fucking care who was watching me, or the crazy looks I was getting as I yelled the lyrics into the french fry in my hand. But before I knew it, the entire place was singing along with me. My classmates, colleagues, and fellow Communication graduates had fries in their hands as a makeshift mic, and sang to the Blink 182 jam with me.

It was perfection.

But that feeling didn't last forever. As the song neared it's ending, I felt an all-too-familiar feeling in my stomach and in my throat. Dizziness started to envelop my brain, and nausea took over. I dropped the fry onto the table, jumped off of the bench, and catapulted myself out of the burger joint. The mixture of alcohol, greasy food, and extreme dance moves all did a number to my stomach and everything was ready to spew out.

I found some dumpsters in the alleyway at the back of Dale's and before I knew it, I was throwing up chunks. It wasn't cute at all, and I didn't hold back as I hurled the entirety of my stomach onto the asphalt. I coughed violently as I continued to barf demonically-- The Exorcist girl had nothing on me.

Suddenly, I felt my hair being gently tugged. I grew nervous for a second, but as I felt my locks being thrown into a simple ponytail at the nape of my neck, I knew it was only Ronnie. I turned my head slightly to mumble a thank you, but in doing so I saw something peculiar.

Black vans.

Unless Ronnie was trying something new, I found the pair of kicks an odd choice for my friend as leather booties were always his go-to when it came to chiffon-- preferably with a pointed toe and at least a three inch heel. So in curiosity, I lifted my head higher, following the lean legs up the torso and to the face belonging to a boy I tried to eschew all night.

"Baby girl, you're a hot mess," Luke chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. I wanted to slap that stupid backwards snapback off of his head.

"Leave me alone," I grumbled, turning away from him as I tried to regain my breathing after hacking up a day's worth of food and drink.

My throat was dry, my head was spinning, and I so badly wanted to lie down. Where was Pam and Ronnie? Why aren't they saving my drunk ass instead of Luke Skyscraper-of-The-Year Hemmings?

"It's a little chilly out, do you want my jacket?" Luke held out his black hooded zip-up in my direction.

"No," I grunted pushing his hand away, but at the same time the coastal breeze prickled my skin and suddenly I was cold.

"Baby," Luke frowned, "don't be stubborn. Take my jacket."

I eyed him with so much animosity, narrowing in my eyebrows to add to the theatrics. I was suddenly mad at Luke. At first I was sad, really sad, about our break. But now, the more I stared at him, the more I thought about how many girls he probably hooked up with during our three-month hiatus. I could deal with the excessive partying, deal with him dabbling in drugs other than weed, but to be intimate with another girl when Luke still held my heart was absolutely soul-shattering.

"You're," Luke draped the jacket around my body, "going," he grabbed my right arm and slipped it into the right sleeve, "to get," he took my left arm and slipped it into the respective sleeve, "sick," he placed the hood on my head, which was oversized and covered my eyes.

"I'm going home," I grumbled, crossing my arms and stomping away from Luke like a child. I could hear Luke's laughter in the background, which only prompted me to walk a little faster. That however, wasn't the best plan as my equilibrium decided to sabotage the shit out of me.

I tripped. On air.

I felt so stupid, and even more idiotic as I heard Luke's giggles grow louder and louder. But before I could stand up and run away from that stupid boy, my body was suddenly lifted off of the asphalt. Luke held onto me, cradling my body with strength and care. I missed this; missed him. And when I caught whiff of his signature cologne, I couldn't help my drunk ass from cowering into his chest.

"Ronnie was right," Luke spoke again, the vibrations in his chest lightly tapping on my cheek, "you really did outdo yourself."

"He was texting you?" I was more horrified than I sounded, but the acidic vomit coated my throat and the burning sensation still lingered.

"I asked him to," Luke told me, taking a glance back down at me with worry on his face.

"Why?"

"I knew that today you'd take your last final, and I knew that you wanted to celebrate. So I asked Ronnie to send me updates on how you were doing,"

"But why would you do that?"

"Because I still fucking love you Ari," Luke revealed, and suddenly my heart stopped doing its thing. "I didn't want you to hurt yourself. After Ronnie told me you took extra shots of tequila, I came to see you at Dale's. Great french-fry karaoke-- I taught you well."

I stayed silent after that. I didn't know what to say, as I was still trying to process everything. We arrived at Luke's car, parked around the corner from Dale's. Carefully, Luke placed me down, still holding onto me. He opened the car door and helped me get settled into the passenger seat. Leaning over, he buckled the seatbelt, and I concentrated really hard not to breath into his face as my mouth probably smelled like a sewer.

Luke slid into the driver's seat, and only then did I realize that he was sober. It was nearing 2AM and I would've expected him to be blacked out drunk by now, but for some reason, he wasn't. Luke was instead here, driving me home, and making sure I was safe.

"Why'd you leave your frat party?" I suddenly asked, keeping my eyes out the window and watching all of Newcoast bustle without us.

"What kind of question is that?" Luke seemed offended, "because you're more important."

And that's when I started to cry.

Fuck me. Like seriously. Not once did I cry during our break; upset and on the verge of tears, yes. But to fully Niagara Falls the shit out of my eyes? That was something I didn't expect to happen-- at least, not tonight.

"Princess, why are you crying?" Luke reached his arm over to squeeze my thigh. When we came to a full stop at the light however, did Luke trail his hand from my thigh to my face to give my cheek a gentle stroke with his thumb.

"If I'm more important than your Frat parties then why did you want to take a break? And if you still love me, then why are you hooking up with other girls?" My words came out of my mouth quickly as the tears continued to run down my face and onto Luke's jacket.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Luke repeated, confusion in his tone, "who says I'm hooking up with other girls?"

"That's why you wanted a break, right? Because being a relationship meant that you couldn't experience college to its full potential; couldn't experience Frat life fully without hooking up with different girls,"

"Ari, I wanted a break because I wanted you to experience college to its full potential," Luke disclosed.

"You gave me time to hook up with other boys?!" I exclaimed suddenly, grimacing at Luke with utter distaste.

"I wouldn't say that," Luke shook his head, chuckling lightly at my expression, "that would break my heart."

I turned my head to look at him through glassy eyes, as Luke concentrated on the road. His right hand was still perched on my thigh, gently rubbing circles on the bare skin with his thumb.

"I still don't get it," I told him honestly, and as if he expected me to respond that way, he didn't hesitate in explaining.

"Remember a back in February when you had that pregnancy scare?" Luke brought up, and my mind immediately switched to one of the scariest moments of my life.

I had missed my period and that was the first sign. I ignored it because I assumed it was due to my new eating habits, the stress, and how Pam always starts her period at the end of the month so I figured I was syncing up to her cycle. But then I started to feel sick, and my hormones were all over the place. I ended up taking three at-home pregnancy tests-- two were negative, but one was positive. So I went to a doctor who confirmed that I was not pregnant. My stress levels were through the roof and was the main cause for my late period.

"I started thinking about life with a baby, and how different our lives would be if we had one right now," Luke continued, "school is already tough. Plus with jobs, my Frat, and your school clubs, how the Hell would be raise a baby?"

"That still doesn't answer why you wanted a break... I wasn't pregnant," I reiterated.

"I know Ari, and after you told me it was just a scare, I was happy. I could see how much school was taking a toll on you and a baby would make that worse. You were doing everything in your power to divide your already busy school schedule to fit in work; to go home to visit your mum; to visit Calum for pizza night; to spend time with me," Luke explained, as we neared my apartment complex.

"But I made time because I wanted to make time. I wanted to see my mom, I wanted to see Cal and the boys, and most importantly I wanted to spend time with you," my voice cracked, "Luke, I love you."

"I love you too, baby girl," Luke declared without hesitation, "but you made time for everyone else, that you forgot to give yourself some time too."

Luke found an empty parking space in front of my apartment complex. He easily paralleled park his car before shutting off the engine. I stayed silent the entire time, mulling over Luke's statement. It still wasn't 100% clear to me, and I'm sure by morning it probably wouldn't. But what I could gather, was that I no longer wanted to be on this so-called college fulfillment break.

Luke carried me to my apartment even though I insisted I walk. Though he did let me try, I only stumbled around like a baffoon. When we reached my apartment on the third floor, did slowly put me down. He patted my pockets, feeling around in each insert before frowning.

"Where's your key?" he asked.

"In my right boob," I told him.

"It would," Luke shook his head. He sighed, stretching open the top seam of my tank and digging his hand into my shirt. His cold fingers slipped in-between my bra strap and skin of my right side where I liked to keep my card, ID, and key.

"My boobs aren't that big, the key isn't lost, so quit pretending to dig around in there," I jabbered, quite annoyed as I stood there with Luke's hand in my bra.

"I wasn't pretending," Luke murmured as he pulled out the gold key. He stuck it into the keyhole and turned it, turning the knob as we heard the click.

I waltzed right in, turning on random lights before stumbling into my room. I plopped onto my soft bed, not bothering to lay beneath my blankets. Just as I was about to fall into a deep sleep, I was suddenly interrupted.

"Ari, drink water," Luke sat at the edge of my bed holding a glass of cold water.

"I'm sleepy and dizzy," I stated, not moving a muscle.

"Don't be stubborn, please, drink the water and then you can sleep," Luke continued to hold the cup towards me, but it wasn't long till I gave into his pleas again... he had that affect on me.

I sat up, taking the glass from Luke and downing the water in a few, long gulps. I gave the cup back to Luke before lying back down with my eyes shut. I felt the bed move slightly and something moving underneath me, then out of nowhere, my blanket was thrown on my body. The light switched off, and I could hear Luke's feet padding across the carpeted floors.

"Luke?" I called out.

"Yes, baby," he answered.

"Stay with me?"

"Anytime,"

A few seconds later the bed dipped, and the blankets wavered slightly. Then, my favorite familiar, and most missed gesture happened. Luke's arm wrapped around my body like protection as his long legs  tangled in mine. It was one of my most favorite feelings in the world, and after three-months without it, I never wanted Luke to let go. Yes, we have been together for several years, and yes we don't know what it feels like to date other people, but regardless our college career was more fulfilled than what we could ever imagine.

Hooking up and sexually experimenting as a college student is such a tiny percentage in the entire college experience. What was more important, was that we made new friends. We learned what it was like to live on our own, to gain the Freshman 15 and then to lose it all, to try new things, and more importantly to learn. Not just during lectures, but in everything we experienced during our four years at Newcoast. Luke and I were graduating, and we were about to embark on a new journey post-university. And no matter where we end up, I knew that I wanted Luke to be there holding on with me.

"Don't let go of me, ever," I told him.

"You sure you'll say that in the morning, baby girl?" He questioned, and I knew what he meant.

"I promise. Drunk words are sober thoughts."