The last half of our art class flies by, the room buzzing with creative energy and the occasional burst of laughter from groups of friends sharing their sketches. My own drawing—a dreamy, surreal landscape inspired by some of Izzy's ideas—starts to take shape, and for once, I feel proud of what I've created. The class winds down, and students begin to pack up their supplies, the noise level rising as everyone gets ready to head out.

Izzy lets out a contented sigh, stretching her arms over her head. "Not a bad class, huh?" she says, flashing me a grin. "You survived."

"Barely," I joke, tucking my sketchpad into my bag. I glance at her, a hopeful thought popping into my head. "Hey, Izzy," I start, feeling a little shy about asking, "do you want to come with me to the animal shelter this afternoon? I'm volunteering for a couple of hours."

Izzy's smile falters, and she makes an exaggerated groaning sound. "Ugh, I'd love to, but I promised Blake I'd help him figure out some stuff for our business project. You know, just a casual excuse to spend time with my 'very' adorable crush." She wiggles her eyebrows at me, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

I laugh, even though a part of me feels a little disappointed. "Ah, the sacrifices we make for love."

"Right?" she says dramatically, placing a hand over her heart. "But seriously, take lots of pictures of the cute animals for me, and give all the dogs some extra pets from Auntie Izzy."

"Will do," I reply with a grin. We part ways at the entrance to the building, Izzy heading off toward the student café to meet Blake, and I make my way across campus to the bus stop. The sun is higher in the sky now, and the warmth feels nice against my skin. I let out a contented sigh, feeling a flicker of excitement about spending time at the shelter.

The bus ride is short, and as I step off and make my way to the familiar brick building of the animal shelter, my heart lifts. Volunteering here is one of my favorite things, and I can already picture the wagging tails and curious eyes that will greet me inside.

I push open the door, and the scent of fresh hay and pet shampoo fills the air. The front desk staff wave at me, and I head to the back room, ready to spend a few hours surrounded by furry friends. My worries from the day start to melt away, and a genuine smile spreads across my face.The dogs perk up instantly, tails wagging and noses pressed against the wire doors of their kennels. A warm, happy feeling spreads through me as I greet them one by one.

"Hey, buddy!" I say, crouching down to scratch behind the ears of a scruffy terrier mix who looks up at me with huge, soulful eyes. He presses into my hand, soaking up the attention, and I laugh softly. "You're a heartbreaker, aren't you?"

In the next kennel, a pair of kittens are curled up together, their tiny bodies nestled close for warmth. One of them blinks up at me, letting out a tiny "mew" before snuggling back down. My heart practically melts. I spend the next hour feeding, grooming, and giving the animals as much love as I can fit into my shift. It's like therapy—letting go of all the stress from classes, projects, and, yes, even Bryan Munzo. Here, with my four-legged friends, everything feels a little simpler.

When my shift wraps up, I grab my phone to text Izzy. Finished up here! Thriller marathon tonight?

Her response is immediate. YASSS. I'll bring popcorn, you bring blankets! Let's do this.

—----

Later that evening, I meet Izzy back at our dorm, arms loaded with blankets and pillows to transform our living room into the ultimate cozy movie den. Izzy, true to her word, has brought a whole arsenal of snacks: popcorn, candy, and a couple of sodas. She's practically bouncing with excitement as she arranges everything on the coffee table.

"We're doing this right," she says, popping a piece of popcorn into her mouth. "None of those watered-down horror movies with predictable jump scares. I'm talking real thrillers."

I raise an eyebrow, settling into the makeshift nest we've created on the couch. "So, like, we're talking Hitchcock level?"

"Exactly," she says, grinning like a kid. "Tonight, we're facing our fears."

She hits play on the first movie, and the room falls into darkness, the glow from the screen illuminating our faces. The opening music sets a chilling tone, and I pull my blanket up to my chin, already feeling the goosebumps prickling on my arms.

Halfway through the first movie, there's a particularly tense moment where the camera slowly pans toward a closed door. I can feel my heart pounding, and Izzy is completely still beside me, eyes glued to the screen. Just as the music reaches a climax, the door on the screen bursts open—and both of us let out simultaneous squeals, clutching each other in a fit of nervous giggles.

"Oh my god!" Izzy gasps between laughs. "This was a terrible idea. We're going to be jumping at shadows all night."

I laugh, trying to calm my racing heart. "You're the one who suggested it! I was perfectly fine with a rom-com marathon."

"Please, you needed this," she says, nudging me with her elbow. "Life's too short for boring movies."

We dive into the next movie, our laughter and gasps echoing in the room as the night wears on. Even as the plot twists and chilling scenes keep us on edge, I feel a deep sense of happiness. It's these nights, huddled up with Izzy, sharing ridiculous scares and endless snacks, that make the whirlwind of college life feel a little less overwhelming.

As the second movie's credits roll, I stretch my legs, still feeling the lingering adrenaline from all the suspense. Izzy glances over at me, her smile fading slightly as she notices the tension in my shoulders.

"You okay?" she asks, giving me a nudge. "You've been tense since the second movie started... or maybe since we started tonight."

I let out a sigh, sinking deeper into the pillows. "It's the Spanish class," I admit. "I can't stop thinking about it. Being thrown into an advanced class because there wasn't any space in the beginner one feels like some kind of twisted joke. I barely understand anything, and tomorrow's class is looming over me like a storm cloud."

Izzy's expression softens, and she wraps her arm around me. "Amber, we've been over this. You don't have to be perfect. You're allowed to struggle, and it's okay if it doesn't come easily right away."

I nod, but the knot in my stomach tightens as my mind flashes back to the argument I had with Bryan. The way he brushed me off, like the project and the stress of the class were nothing more than inconveniences, still stings. The memory of his smirk, the way he made me feel small and frustrated, is hard to shake.

"And it's not just the class," I admit, my voice dropping. "It's... Bryan, too. Our argument is still playing in my head. He makes everything feel ten times harder, and I hate that I'm letting him get to me."

Izzy's eyes narrow. "Ugh, Bryan. That guy could stress out a yoga instructor. What exactly is his problem, anyway? He acts like nothing matters."

I sigh again. "I don't know. He's so frustratingly dismissive. It's like he doesn't realize how serious this class and project are for me. And I hate that I keep replaying our argument in my head, like I'm the one who messed up."

Izzy shakes her head. "You're not the problem, Amber. He is. You care, and he's acting like a total jerk. But listen, if he keeps slacking, you have my full support to use all your ballet strength to launch a Spanish dictionary at his head."

A reluctant laugh escapes me. "You think that would knock some sense into him?"

"One can hope," Izzy says with a grin. "But seriously, don't let him take up space in your head. You're handling so much: dance, teaching, and now this crazy Spanish class. Give yourself credit where it's due."

Her words soothe some of the panic gnawing at me, and I let out a long breath. "Thanks, Izzy. I just hope I can get through tomorrow without making a fool of myself... or having another argument with Bryan."

"You've got this," she reassures me. "And if Bryan even tries to be a jerk again, just imagine all the ways you can sass him in your head. That always helps."

I laugh again, the tension easing a bit. "You're right. One more movie, then?"

"One more," she agrees, reaching for the remote. "And if things get too scary, just pretend Bryan's the one hiding in the shadows. Way less terrifying."

We burst into laughter, and even though I'm still dreading tomorrow, Izzy's humor and support make the fear feel a little less suffocating.

—----

Thanks so much for reading Chapter Eight! 💖

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Stay tuned for more, and see you in Chapter Nine! 🎨✨