— Lilly —

The morning after our shopping trip, I woke up and rushed to dining hall before class. I hadn't seen Savannah since yesterday. When I got back from the library last night, she was gone but her room was decorated. My side of the room looked boring compared to hers, but the colours on her rug managed to bring both sides of the room together despite their differences.

I left dining hall with an apple and coffee in hand. I noticed the air was cooling—fall was coming soon. I crossed the street into the Political Science building, it was brick, covered in english ivy, with a big white framed door. On the inside, the air was musty and the hallways rumbled as students separated into various lecture theatres. My class was in room 204A. I climbed the stairs, out of breath, and realized that maybe I should pick up running again. My class was the second door on the left, I picked a seat in the front, pulling my coloured pens and a notebook from my bag.

"Can I have one of those?" A hushed voice asked from beside me.

I looked over at the guy in the seat next to me and he was staring at me from under his big thin-framed glasses. I squirmed under his gaze, his hazel eyes were captivating. "What? A pen? Why? It's the first day of class and you didn't bring a pen?" I couldn't understand how someone could be so unprepared.

"No," he said, drawing out the vowel. He pulled his lips into a mischievous grin and my gaze shifted to the freckles on his nose and cheeks. "Don't worry, I brought one. Yours just seem more fun."

Did he think he was funny? The last thing I wanted to do was give this guy one of the pens that I used to colour-code my notes. I didn't find it funny at all, but he smelled like sandalwood and it was intoxicating. Against my instincts, I handed him a teal-inked pen. He put the pen in his back pocket as he got up and walked to the front of the class.

"Hello class," he started. I could feel my cheeks burn. Had I just crushed on my professor?

He smiled at me from the podium, running a hand through his brown curls as he continued. "My name is Elijah, and I'll be your TA this semester. Your professor is running late, so I'll be starting the lecture today."

I let out a sigh of relief as he began lecturing, wishing he was beside me again so I could admire his perfect olive skin and the deep dimples framing his smile. He lectured for thirty minutes; I wrote one bullet point in my notebook.

The professor arrived, he took over and Elijah left the lecture theatre, my pen never leaving his pocket.

_________

When I returned to our room, Savannah was sitting on her bed, hunched over her toes with a bottle of red nail polish. I felt like I had over-reacted yesterday when she offered to buy the vinyl. My reaction was impulsive, likely out of defensiveness, I realized. I never had many friends in high school, my mother's sickness brought me close to my family and I spent most of my energy on them or my studies—Savannah would be my first real friend. When I realized she was rich, I panicked. I worried she would judge me and lose interest in building a friendship; I didn't want her to treat me like a charity case. When I woke up this morning though, I realized that I was being paranoid, I should get to know Savannah before jumping to conclusions.

"Hey." I said, setting my bag down and approaching her bed. "Can I sit?"

"Yeah, sure." She scooted back against the wall and I followed, the bottle of nail polish slurping as she twisted it shut. "Sorry about yesterday, I can be ignorant sometimes, but I promise it doesn't come from a bad place. I was just raised in a—in a certain environment."

"I get it." I shoved my shoulder into hers. "Don't worry about it, I over-reacted."

Savannah hopped off the bed and went into her closet, tucking her nail polish away. I noticed that her desk at the foot of her bed was still empty. Had she even gone to class?

"You like the red?" Savannah asked, looking down at her toes. "I can do yours too." She turned back to the closet and retrieved the nail polish again. "You'll let me, right?"

I looked at my bare toe nails—I rarely painted them. "Yes. Do you have black or something though?"

She grabbed a bottle of nail polish from her closet and turned to face me as she shook it. "Of course you want black," she said. "Very on theme with the whole Led Zeppelin thing."

I laughed as she plopped back down beside me. She was beautiful, Savannah. Her hair was dark brown, her eyes hazel and cat-like, with tanned skin and plump lips. She looked like someone I would see on the cover of a magazine.

"Okay, lift your feet up you little grunge-hippie who doesn't look like a grunge-hippie."

I layed out my legs while Savannah twisted the cap off.

"I hope you aren't one of those weirdos who walk around barefoot or else our dorm is about to get real smelly and I might have to request a room change," she said with her nose scrunched.

I giggled as I set my feet in front of her. She started painting and the smell of strong fumes burned my nostrils. "So," I started, drawing out the syllables. "How's class?"

She looked up at me with a questioning glare in her eyes before focusing back on painting. "I'm assuming you noticed I haven't really been going." She looked up again and I nodded. "The transition has been hard," she told me, starting my second foot. Her hair fell like a curtain around her face. "Let's just say I didn't have to work hard in high school and didn't go much, so the thought of sitting through lectures is overwhelming. I'm scared I won't even know what they're talking about."

"What's your major?" I asked as she blew a strand of hair out of her face.

"Sociology—I heard it was easy. I just want to be able to say I got a degree."

I could tell that Savannah was coming from a place of privilege as she said that. It was clear that she didn't actually care about her education the way that I did. I tried to frame it how she had explained it earlier though, how she can be ignorant because of her upbringing, that it wasn't malicious.

"Are you taking the Sociology of Law?" I asked. She was painting my last toe. "Because I am, and we could go together. I could help you and stuff."

"Hm, I'm not sure." She twisted the cap on the nail polish, hopped off her bed, and rummaged through her desk. "Oh, I am! Gross, Friday afternoons. That's like the worst time, I'll never drag my ass there."

"Yes you will!" I sat up so I could see her. She dropped her schedule back into the drawer and slammed it shut. "I'm dragging your ass there every Friday and I am helping you until you get an A." I watched her walk back over and sit across from me on her puffy bed. "Let's start by focusing on that class and hopefully the others will fall into line too, how many classes are you taking?"

"Just three. Technically I'm part time, they only let me live on campus because my parents—"

She stopped before she could say it, but it was easy to fill in the blanks. Usually students studying part-time couldn't use campus housing, but clearly her parents had payed the school enough that they didn't mind if she blurred the lines. It was ironic, because I only slept five feet from her and could barely afford first semester's tuition. On top of that, I had to take six courses a semester if I wanted to stay in the pre-law program.

"I just—" Savannah stuttered, interrupting my thoughts. Her face flushed a bit as she forced the words out. "I don't think I would be able to pass if I took any more courses."

I felt bad then, really, when I thought about it, it was mostly her parents fault for doing her a disservice. How could their daughter ever learn anything if they were constantly buying her way through life?

"It's okay Savannah. I tutored a lot in high school. Don't worry, we'll figure it out. You'll pass."

She smiled at me, fluffing a pillow and laying back. "Thanks Lills."

I couldn't help but grin when she called me Lills. It was the first time I had been given a nickname, but I knew it was something people did when they were friends. I never had that.

"How were your classes today?" She asked. I debated on whether I wanted to mention Elijah, eventually deciding that I would—it's something that girls talk about with their friends.

"Class was good, but I was distracted through most of Poli-Sci. There was this guy and—"

Savannah clapped her hands theatrically, her face gleaming. "All the details, please!"

I felt my cheeks flush. It was rare that I got flustered over a guy and it was rare that I acknowledged it at all, much less talked to a friend about it. "Okay, yeah, fine." I tucked my hair behind my ear and Savannah sat up to listen. "So I get to class and this guy sitting beside me asks for a pen. I wasn't going to give him one because they're my good pens but—"

"Good pens?" Savannah's perfectly-sculpted eyebrows creased.

"Well you know, they're nice pens with ten different colours and my dad paid extra for them."

"Okay, so good pens."

"Yeah anyways, I look at him and he was really cute so I gave him a pen."

"Well what do you mean really cute? You have to describe him."

My cheeks were on fire now and Savannah must have noticed because she giggled. I let out a puff of air before I continued. "Well, you know, curly hair, perfect skin and eyes, freckles, and those big trendy thin-framed glasses that are all cute and smart."

She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "All cute and smart huh?"

"Oh would you stop it!" We started laughing and I immediately covered my face in my hands, peering at her through the cracks in my fingers. "Anyways, I asked him why he needed a pen and he said well yours are better and then walked to the front of the class and started lecturing because he's our TA."

"No! You're lying!" She was bouncing up and down on the bed by this point and I was pretty sure she was more excited than me. "Your TA? Oh my god, he totally had the hots for you if he was telling you your pens are better."

"Really? You think? Because he didn't look at me again and left without acknowledging me."

"Oh yeah, it's totally his game."

I was confused by how Savannah knew this—there must be secrets to flirting that I didn't understand. I tapped a finger to my toes to make sure they were dry before crossing my legs. "What do I do?"

"Nothing." She answered. I was confused again, I wondered how he would know that I liked him. "It's his move," she explained, "he asked for a pen and you gave it. Now you wait."

"Wait?"

"Yes. No one wants to come off strong too early, for two reasons. One, because no one wants to embarrass themselves, and two, because it builds anticipation for some really hot sex later on." She winked at me, batting her long dark eyelashes.

"Sex! What?" I blinked excessively before grabbing a pillow to shove my face into. "I only gave him a pen!"

"No sex yet, silly!" Savannah pulled the pillow from my face and smacked me with it. "For later!"

I threw my arms up to dodge her and she set the pillow down to let me speak. I took it and tucked it behind me in efforts to keep it hidden. "What about you?" I asked as she twirled a lock of hair around her fingertips. "Any guys?"

"No one special. It's different every weekend. Last night it was..." She was looking up at the ceiling, deep in thought. "Brad?"

My stomach dropped.

"Brad?"