"Okay, boys against girls, we're playing a game of Rounders!" A faculty member yells across the field which is filled with about thirty students.

It's Friday's Activities Day before the first official week of classes starts on Monday. The whole freshman class has been divided into separate groups around the campus. Some are in the library playing board games while others are in the science wing performing pointlessly cool experiments. My group however is on the field about to play a game of Rounders.

Rounders is a kid-friendly version of baseball and softball. The bases are hula-hoops, the ball is a tennis ball and the bat is like a hard plastic racket.

I haven't seen Peter at all today, assuming he's even with a group and I passed Meg earlier leaving the gym building, sneaking a pack of cigarettes with her. She gave me a small wink as she walked past. Johnathan though, is in my group.

He groans slumping his shoulders, "I hate this."

I let out a little laugh, "Why? You stink at sports?"

"No, I just hate running," he sighs, walking over to the group of college boys standing in a circle.

The girls are standing around, some of them not dressed for this type of activity from the mini skirts and tight pants that look like they could rip if they step too far to the side. The boys start strategizing, getting to know each other and their strengths but the girls are just standing there, not doing anything.

"Okay, ladies round up!" I call out to them. A few look my way but immediately go back to their conversations however some slowly walk towards me. A particularly snobbish girl talks loudly to her surrounding friends. "Excuse me, are you deaf?" She turns to face me, a confused expression on her face as I patiently wait for her answer. She shakes her head. "Then I don't understand why you haven't moved, get your ass over here."

She looks taken aback but nonetheless walks over to me, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Her friends follow behind her silently.

"So what is everyone good at?" I look at each person around me. They don't say anything. "Has anyone ever played softball or baseball before?" Silence.

"What's the point?" A redhead asks, her arms folded across her chest. "They're going to beat us anyway." Murmurs of agreement sound from around the circle.

I take in her tied-back hair, black jeans and loose band t-shirt. "The point is that I do not want to lose to a bunch of cocky guys that think they don't have to try to beat us. Look at them," I gesture to the boys who had been discussing strategies a few minutes ago but are now lounging around in the sun, talking and laughing with each other. "I don't know about you girls but I am not going down without a fight because I don't like to be underestimated. Now, who's good at what?" They stare with wide nervous eyes. Okay, another tactic. "Don't you wanna kick their asses while looking cute? That would kill them." One girl's face breaks into a smile while the others follow along.

Once we've had a few minutes to strategize, the faculty member calls for the team captains to flip a coin to figure out who is batting first. The girls all look at me expectantly so I walk up to the teacher and wait for the boys' team captain to walk up.

He's taken off his preppy knitted sweater, leaving him in a short-sleeved button-down and his beige khaki shorts paired with boat shoes. Oh God, not boat shoes. He gives me a sly wink, flipping the coin. I just stare at him with a bored expression.

They get the chance to bat first and we split up to get into positions. A student from London told me that her brothers taught her how to play cricket, whatever that is, so she can play pitcher as long as she aims higher and doesn't bounce the ball. God help us all.

The redhead, Abby, is the catcher since her family is big on football so she's learned a lot. The snobby-looking girl from earlier, Lauren, told me that in high school she actually played on the softball team and chose to take first base while I took third and the other girls were scattered around.

Boat Shoes Boy is up to bat first. He holds the plastic racket in one hand since it's so short. He swings it a few times earning an eyeroll from myself. The London girl gears up her arm to throw the tennis ball. She pulls her arm back and throws it. Hm, maybe I should learn more about cricket. The ball flies across the space. It's a tennis ball so she probably didn't need to throw it with a lot of strength but it was totally worth it to see the look on this guys face as it slams into Abby's mitt.

"Oh shit," I breathe, a shocked smile on my face.

We play a few rounds until we manage to get three outs on the guy's team before we're switched over. We've been doing pretty well, we've only got one out and Lauren is about to bat. She swings the bat in one hand, showing off for everyone and holds it in the air, a small smirk on her face.

The guy team member throws the ball and she holds her arm up until the last second, smacking the ball, dropping the bat on the ground, and running for her life while holding down her skirt with one hand. She's laughing the whole way. She manages to get to second base and stands there, a grin on her face as her friends and the other girls cheer for her. Johnathan stands behind her with a bored expression on his face.

I pick up the bat, dust it off, and stand just in front of the hula-hoop. The pitcher looks a little deflated from the throw he just pitched and I smirk to myself knowing this one won't be any better for his ego.

His throw is subpar and I don't have to hit it very hard for it to send it flying down the field. Lauren cheers loudly before making a run for third base and then the home base. By the time she passes over the hula-hoop that represents home base, I've gotten to second base. The pitcher catches the ball, eyeing me for a moment before facing the next up to bat.

"Having fun?" I ask Johnathan with a cheeky smile.

He gives me a lazy grin in response, "Just the most."

"Yeah, you look it."

"So, I wanted to ask you about Valentina." I offer him nothing but a raised eyebrow. "She's single right, like I didn't misread anything?"

I open and close my mouth a few times trying to choose the right reply. "Um, look, Val has a specific...set of rules in her family," I pointedly eye him up and down, "and you don't fit the criteria." Johnathan has a questioning gaze on his face as he looks himself up and down.

The sound of the tennis ball smacking the racket has me whirling my head back into the game. The girl is busy running for the first hula-hoop but I can see by how the boys are scrambling that they're going to throw it to get her out so I sprint to the third hula-hoop. They manage to get her out but I decide to let their distraction be my advantage.

Someone fumbles the ball which has me gunning it for the home base hula-hoop. The boys are yelling at someone to find the tennis ball and before they can even get it in their hands I've jumped into the circle of the hula-hoop making the girls cheer loudly again.

There's laughter and hugs when the girls pull me along to the sidelines. I look around and see some people have stopped on the top of the hill that leads to other campus buildings and are watching the game.

I notice his build before my eyes see his face as I wave at Peter.

He's got a wide grin on his face while he claps along with some of his friends. His twin, Ingrid, is standing next to him. She's not smiling or clapping. The only acknowledgment I get from her is a scowl. It makes me laugh.

She looks up at her brother and grabs his arm saying something that catches his attention and she takes that moment to pull him away from the small crowd gathered. He looks over his shoulder reluctantly but I just give him one last wave before he disappears.

"Okay, times up!" The faculty member blows a whistle, gaining all of our attention. "Girls, you win, congrats. Now head on over to your next activity."

Lauren appears by my side, "Thanks for your help Clara, I had fun."

"Yeah, anytime." She wraps an arm through my elbow, pulling me along with the rest of the girls that are sticking together. My smile lasts the rest of the day as I realize that maybe the students here are not all preppy and annoying and that it might not be so bad for the next four years.

|| 📚 ||

An incessant knocking on my door wakes me up from my deep sleep at seven the next morning and I almost debate ignoring it, then I realize it's probably never going to stop so I crawl out of bed and shuffle slowly towards the door of Ingrid and I's joint suite.

One look into her room shows me that she's probably on her morning run or practicing voodoo, whichever one comes first on her schedule each day. I rip open the door, remembering a little too late that I should have probably attempted to brush the tangles out of my honey-blonde hair before opening it.

Peter stands on the other side of the door, a small brown paper bag in his hand, two cups in the other, and a bright smile on his face.

I'm too tired to freak out at the fact that he can probably see the crusty dried-up drool on my chin or the fact that I'm wearing a shirt with several holes in it and polka-dot shorts to finish the ensemble. I don't freak out and slam the door in his face. I don't try and play it off like I'm cool. No, I just yawn right in his face, unable to control it.

"Did I wake you up?" He tilts his head, looking me up and down.

I level him with a blank stare, "What gave me away, the hair or the yawn?" I pull the door open wide and don't bother waiting for him before I start walking back to my room.

"Definitely the hair, it looks great by the way. I love how one side is flattened against your head, really 80s chic."

I huff loudly, fighting the urge to fix my hair. "Your sister isn't here." I sit roughly on the bed, fighting the desire to crawl back under the covers. Instead, I grab a wet wipe and run it over my face to help wake me up a bit more.

He can't seem to wipe the smile off his face as he watches me huff and puff at him. "I figured she would still be at the gym by this time so I brought you breakfast from the Deli a few blocks away from the school," he holds up the brown paper bag, swaying it gently.

A small gasp leaves my throat as I shuffle to grab the bag, "You're amazing."

"Coffee?" He asks and I scrunch my nose in disgust. His jaw slackens, "You don't drink coffee?"

"Eugh," I make a disgusted noise in the back of my throat. "No, I can't handle the taste."

He shakes his head in disbelief, "You're living in Manhattan and you don't drink coffee, I'm shocked." He places the coffee down on my desk and moves to sit in my desk chair.

I pull the classic egg, ham, and cheese on a Kaiser roll breakfast sandwich out of the paper bag and practically salivate at the smell. "Salt, pepper, and ketchup?"

He holds a hand over his heart in mock hurt, "Of course, what am I, some kind of tourist?"

I look at him, impressed, "Not too bad, Hayes." I pull out the roll and almost salivate at the beauty of it. It's eaten in under a minute and when I stare at the empty paper, my heart sinks at not appreciating it enough now that it's gone.

"Wow," I snap my head up at Peter's voice and see that he is only halfway through his sandwich. "That was impressive."

A smile tugs at the corners of my lips. He leans forward and offers me a bite of his sandwich. I keep eye contact with him as I bite a small-ish piece, chewing it slowly. "Thank you. My sister likes to steal food from me so I'm conditioned to eat as fast as I can."

"Your sister?" He smiles, his face curious.

I nod my head, leaning back onto the bed to reach for my nightstand. I grab the picture frame and hand it over to him. It's a picture of Jenna and me at Coney Island a few years ago, five minutes after this picture was taken Jenna threw up on one of the rides. "That's Jen, she's two years younger than me."

"She looks nothing like you," he comments, studying the picture for a few more seconds before handing it back over.

I don't have the energy to sit up so I just blindly lay it back on my nightstand. "A lot of people say that. I got the blonde and she got the brown hair, the only thing we have going for us is the dark blue eyes."

"She looks friendly enough," he smiles, leaning his elbows on his knees.

A disbelieving laugh leaves my lips, "She'll eat you alive. I'm even terrified of her sometimes."

"Sounds like a regular sibling to me," he laughs, pointedly looking at my closed door, almost as if he can see through to his sister's space. "So, what are your plans for the rest of the day? I remember you and Val saying you were seeing each other today."

I run a hand through the knots in my hair on top of my pillow, "Oh, um she should be here when she wakes up, which will most probably be at like three this afternoon." He laughs, staring at my hair. "Other than that, I plan to go back to sleep until two forty-five," I grin, shimmying on the bed for emphasis.

"Fair enough, I'm sorry I woke you up early. I've been conditioned to wake up at five every morning no matter the day," he admits and I realize it must have something to do with his family since Ingrid is the exact same.

I give him a mischievous smile, "Do you have anywhere to be today?" He thinks about it for a second but ultimately shakes his head, his face lifting from watching me smile brighter.

I lift the comforter, that I'm still lying on top of, up, inviting him to climb into bed. "Get in Hayes, we're breaking your conditioning."

He looks a little conflicted, "The school's Code of Conduct—."

I snort loudly. It takes all my effort not to laugh in his face at the pure innocence coming from that one comment. A sarcastic comment is on the tip of my tongue but I don't think he'd appreciate it. "We're just going to be sleeping, I won't tell if you won't." He still looks a little nervous. "You don't have to."

He laughs, "I feel like as a guy I'm supposed to say that to you."

"Yeah, I don't conform to society." He unlaces his Converse sneakers and places them neatly on the floor next to my slippers. "Here, just to be safe from our obvious raging hormones," he gives me an incredulous look as I lift the covers once more, "You can sleep under the covers and I'll stay on top."

He grins, climbing under the covers, lying on his back, and staring up at the ceiling. "I'm sorry I didn't go down to the field and say hello yesterday, Ingrid needed my help with her library card."

I nod, roll onto my back, and look up at my ceiling, "She seems to need your help a lot."

He turns his head to face me. "She's...delicate. She doesn't do well with change. My parents were terrified to let her stay in the dorms." Even though he's lying in a comfortable bed, his whole body is tense, his jaw locked. "It's why I decided to come with her to Columbia."

That part gets my attention, "Where were you going to go?"

"Yale, I even got early acceptance but I couldn't let her face college alone. I've always been there for her, she's my other half." My eyebrows are pinched in concern. His face is solemn and I just want to say something to put the smile back on his face.

"Is it selfish of me to say that I'm sorry you didn't get to go to your dream college but I'm not upset about it?" I give him an embarrassed smile.

His face is relaxed when he brings his hand up and runs it through my hair. It's a sweet gesture but because I haven't brushed my hair this morning his fingers get caught in a particularly nasty knot. I let out a tiny wince and he tugs it as gently as he can but it doesn't stop pulling on my scalp. His face turns panicked. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

I laugh loudly, the breath leaving my lungs so quickly at his genuine concern. if only he knew how many times Jenna pulled my hair when we were fighting. "It's fine." I lean up, taking a light hold of his hand to untangle my hair from his fingers.

He watches me work quietly, pursing his lips at the rough parts. A small sigh of relief leaves his mouth when he gets his hand back. I smile up at him, my eyes crinkling in the corners. His expression is almost awestruck as he stares at my face, his gaze dipping to my lips every few heartbeats.

He suddenly leans forward, his eyes fluttering the closer he gets. I stop his lips a hairsbreadth from my own. "Don't want you to break the rules now do we?" I ask, my voice barely above a breathless whisper.

He grins brushing his nose against mine, "I won't tell if you won't."

"My breath—."

"I don't care," he whispers, leaning the rest of the way, and kissing me softly. It's sweet and romantic and completely cheesy but I savor every second of it.

He doesn't open his mouth so I take the risk to open my mouth, letting my tongue lightly touch his lips in a silent question.

He opens his mouth, kissing me deeply, his tongue slowly brushing against mine eliciting a moan from the back of my throat. His free hand, the other being stuck under the covers, runs down my body from my shoulder to my waist, lightly gripping it. My hand is resting against his jaw, the other in the soft short hair.

We kiss for a few more moments before he pulls away. He looks down at me with a dazed smile. He leans down kissing me once. I offer him a wide grin. He can't stop himself from kissing me again, pulling away before I can even register it.

"Would you like to go to dinner with me sometime?" He asks, playing with a strand of knot-free hair.

I bite my bottom lip, trying to act nonchalant. "I'll have to check my schedule, obviously."

"Obviously," he murmurs, trailing his lips along my jaw. My breath hitches.

"But I think I can squeeze you in," I say breathlessly not even ashamed at the drugged tone in my voice.

"Excellent," he kisses my jaw swiftly before letting go of me completely, leaning back on the bed and staring up at the ceiling.

"Ass," I mumble, roughly wiggling into the comfort of the covers underneath me. He chuckles, looking at me from a side-eye glance. Our heads are almost squished next to each other on my pillows. A slow breath leaves me as my eyes start to droop closed.

A loud thump startles me awake a few hours later. Disorientated, I look around me and see Peter sleeping soundly next to me. He's pushed the covers off of himself and one of his hands is gently draped over my waist. I shake my head with a small smile before lying back down on the bed wanting to enjoy this small moment.

I, however, don't have that sort of luxury when a voice clears their throat from my doorway and I shoot up into a sitting position, startling Peter awake. He opens his eyes wide but I'm too busy looking at the two people standing in my doorway.

Ingrid has an appalled expression on her face as her gaze moves back and forth between Peter and his hand still on my waist. Next to her in her signature black thigh-high boots and black mini skirt stands my best friend with a blood-red smirk on her lips. "Well well well, isn't this a scandalous picture?" Valentina asks leaning against the threshold.

|| 📚 ||

Until next time,

Sammipott xx