When I woke up in the morning, Ryan was still asleep on my floor, snuggled under the blanket my mother made for me like a little kid. A small smile snuck into my face. Once upon a time, that little kid was me, and there was no better place in the world than underneath that afghan.

I nudged him awake. "Ryan? You have to get up. I have to get ready for my final."

He muttered a string of muffled words, but none of them were loud or clear enough to mean anything to me.

"Ryan, come on. The sooner you get out of here, the sooner I can go home," I said. That certainly wasn't true, since my exam was set to begin at nine am sharp, but a little encouragement wouldn't hurt him.

This time, his words were quiet but clear. "I don't want to."

I let out an annoyed sigh. "Are you still looking for something to do until you can fly home for—"

Ryan rudely interrupted me with a thought. "Your thingy is being published today."

I blinked once. "There's a word for that thingy, you know."

"I won't look at it, though. You seemed pretty upset about it."

"Well, thank you, but you still need to leave."

"I know, I know. It's just going to take me a minute to get up. This isn't exactly a good time for me," he mumbled.

He was truly something, wasn't he?

"Do you need some water?" I asked.

He moved his head slightly, but it looked more like a no than a nod. "Don't worry about it."

Ryan looked a little pale with his sleepy eyes, but he gave himself another minute before getting up and giving me back the blanket he asked from me.

"Layla, do you remember inviting me to your mom's to keep you company until I have to leave for Arizona?"

"I don't think I was the one who invited you. You asked me if you could come," I said.

"Does my offer still stand?"

I thought for a moment. I wasn't sure how many times Ryan came up in conversations with my mom and sister, but it would probably look good if I had a friend with me for once.

I had spent years of my life with all of Corey's friends and my family, but making and keeping my own friends was a bigger challenge. In fact, it was such a challenge that I only had one fruit from my labor.

"If you hydrate and promise not to act like an idiot, sure," I said.

"I promise."

I nodded and escorted him out of my room.

"I'll see you, Layla. Good luck on your exam," he said right before he left.

"Oh, and Ryan?"

He turned around.

"Don't ever do that again, showing up at my door uninvited."

He smiled. "You pretty much invited me."

I would have definitely remembered telling him that he was welcome to come bother me, but it didn't really matter, did it? I got the comfort I needed, and he got an answer he wanted. It was an even trade.

***

It wasn't long after the school website was updated with the last posts of the semester that I got my first text, which I opened after my last exam of the term.

It was from Isabel. "Thanks again for writing this piece. It's a great read for women, which I know was super important for you with the Courtney story."

I bit my cheek and turned my phone completely off. That was true, but I knew better than to believe those words of praise. Isabel cared about the clicks the headline would get and nothing more. That wasn't the writer I wanted to be, but it was the writer I had impulsively chosen to become for the day.

And now, if that piece got the attention Isabel seemed to think it would, that was going to be the writer I had to live with.

All that time I spent doing the right thing against the tabloid direction Isabel was leading us, it was for nothing.

As I got all of my stuff together to leave campus for winter break, I figured I should have probably kept my phone on in case Ryan or my mom needed something. And I could just ignore everyone else.

As soon as my phone started back up, I saw three missed calls from Corey, but I really didn't care what the man who replaced me in two seconds flat a mere few weeks after convincing himself we were ready to get married had to say. His opinion was irrelevant.

Besides, he was definitely on my ignore list.

I stared at the screen. What kind of power did my silly little article have over the poor heartbroken man about to play in the College Football Semifinal? He was the one in the spotlight, and—

A knock at the door interrupted my thought.

And it was probably for the best, too. I was pretty sure I was about to convince myself to call him back.

I opened up the door, and just as I expected, it was Ryan again, this time with a single suitcase.

"That's all you're taking with you back home to Arizona?" I asked.

"Nice to see you again too, Layla." He smiled. "No, but what else do I need? I could have packed even less stuff, but my mom hates it when I do that."

"Even less stuff?" I turned around to see the mess of clothes and products I had in my bed that I still had to pack up. "How do guys do that?"

He shrugged. "It's just easier."

It probably was easier, but it was absolutely unhinged.

"You told me to be here at one, and you're still not done packing? How far is your house?" he asked.

"Well, it's not in Arizona," I said softly to myself. "Just give me a few more minutes, okay? My mind is in a million different places right now."

"So's all your stuff," he said, and before I could glare at him, he laughed. "I'm kidding. Take your time. It was nice of you to offer to take me to the airport."

I shook my head as I flattened out the wrinkles on a shirt before putting it into my suitcase. "You sure have no problem taking advantage of my kindness."

"I'm kidding. I know you have a lot on your plate, so don't worry about it," he said, but since he mentioned it, I knew he wanted me to worry about it at least a little bit.

But after he unknowingly saved me from myself twice in such a brief span of time, it was the least I could do for him. After all, he was the only person I considered a friend anymore.

A brief silence came over the two of us as I continued to pack away all of my favorite clothes and beauty products to take home with me. Quiet never lasted long with Ryan, but it wasn't him that broke the silence. Instead, it was my phone vibrating. Corey again.

"You okay?" Ryan asked as I sent Corey to voicemail.

I nodded.

"You sure?"

I nodded again. And it was the truth, too. As long as I didn't answer my phone or think about how much of a sellout I was, I was perfectly fine. Being with Mom was much more relaxing than being away where I couldn't be there for her at a moment's notice if she needed me, so there was nothing better than going home to her.

Plus, I wouldn't have to deal with Isabel for a few weeks. It was the first time in months that I had a second to breathe.

And that meant that there was also time to think, Layla. Was that really a good thing?

I shook off that thought and went back to packing in silence, but once again, that peace was brief.

"So have you been watching any good shows lately?" Ryan asked.

With what time, Ryan? "Why don't you tell me about what you're watching?"

I continued to pack as he told me about some new show based on a video game that he really liked, and although I liked the quiet, I had gotten more than my fair share of time to myself in the past few weeks. It wasn't terrible having to listen to someone else think every once in a while.

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Hello! Thank you so much for reading! I really appreciate your support as I'm really starting to get into this story. It's been quite a while since I've felt like this about something I'm writing, and it feels really good. I finally feel like my writing self again.

So for today's question, instead of your dream job, what would be your nightmare job? Like, what is the worst possible job you could ever have?

For me, my nightmare job would be working in a call center, or even an office on a computer all day, or anything along those lines. I hate having to sit all day in uncomfortable clothes and talk to people who don't want to talk to me. It's why I got into science where I can work in a lab, move around, and only interact with a few people during the day. It's tiring, but it's so much better than the alternative.