I tapped my pen on my notebook absentmindedly as I thumbed through the textbook. Page three sixty-four, three sixty... four!

Right on cue, my phone burst into my childlike ringtone—still haven't gotten around to changing it—causing me to flinch in surprise.

"Stacey?" I asked, putting the phone up to my ear. "What's up?"

"Stella!" Stacey sang, voice muffled over the phone. "Pete's having a party—you in?"

"Sure, why not," I said, thumbing through the pages of my textbook one last time. "Give me half an hour."

"Hurry up!" Stacey called, the music in the background getting louder. "It's already well past eleven, and I don't think the wasted crowd's going to hold up for long."

"It is?" I asked, turning to check the clock. The hands were splayed at quarter past the large bold eleven. How fast time seemed to pass these days. "Fine—keep them awake for me!"

"Will do. I'll send Chad to pick you up," Stacey yelled over the beats that now thumped into my ear. "He just work up."

"Oh Chad," I smiled. "That sounds good." Hearing the click, I put down my phone and made my way to my closet. Dark or light—how about a bright color tonight? I feel like having fun. A distraction would be nice. Maybe I'd even find someone new...

---

"What about him?" Stacey grinned, gesturing vaguely towards a muscular blonde—wrestling team, most like. "Bet that shirt's doing more harm than good."

"Buff," Karen agreed, before grinning and tipping her head towards a dark-haired boy in a fitting polo, "but that one's more of my type. Dark, cute, and a nice sense of style."

"Preppy," I added, sipping my drink from an iconic red solo cup. "I think the guy by the door's pretty cute too—taken though, by the looks of that redhead."

"Just a fling," Stacey sniffed, glancing over the girl clinging onto the boy's arm. "I'm sure she has nothing on you though—just walk over and snag him. You'd be doing him a favor."

"Alright, who wants who?" Karen asked, grinning. "I think I'm going to have to pass though."

"If you're passing, then Stella's the only single one here," Stacey frowned. "That's no fun."

"I'm not feeling it today," Karen explained, tipping her cup over to inhale the rest of the contents. "Need more beer though. Either of you want any?"

"Get me some," I called, waving my empty cup at her. Karen made an 'okay' sign with her fingers before weaving through the crowd.

"You know, " Stacey started, frowning as she swirled the remaining alcohol around the red cup absentmindedly, "you're the only one who's completely single right now."

"Really? What about Karen?" I asked, confused.

"She's seeing someone," Stacey asserted, giving me a wry smile. "Although 'seeing' might not be the correct term—maybe 'chatting.' Online, I mean, since she's been on her laptop all the time recently—couldn't you tell?"

"Oh," I breathed, quiet. It was strange—all of a sudden my friends were all off in relationships. Was it time to pair up and settle down? Already?

"Now I'm not saying that you should go hook up with someone seriously," Stacey said, meeting my eyes with a calm gaze. "I'm just saying... Maybe it's time to start thinking about it. College doesn't last forever, you know?"

"I have time then," I concluded, half-joking and half-hoping that Stacey would just agree and allow me to go on believing in what I did. Stacey granted me a sad smile.

"Not if you want Calum," Stacey replied, gaze directed behind me. Turning, I spotted Calum slow-dancing with Kimberly in the midst of the crowd of sweaty bodies, lost in their own world.

Inhaling sharply, I downed the rest of my cup and marched over to the boy who I'd singled out earlier. He looked up in surprise from the couch, so surprised that the girl was allowed to slide off his lap, landing in an inelegant heap on the floor.

"Bitch!" the girl cursed at me, smacking into my shoulder as she rushed pass.

"Worth it," I smirked, straddling the dark-haired boy and stroking his cheek. "Let's continue where you left off."

---

Finals were in four days, but I couldn't focus properly. My time was divided into spurts: studying and tapping. The dull thudding of my pen hitting my finger filled any silence I may have had, and it was stressing me out. Why couldn't I stop thinking about it?

Calum and Kimberly. Kimberly and Calum. Swaying. Left and right, slowly. Back and forth. Eyes sharing some sort of connection I couldn't imagine. That I couldn't fathom to feel. Smiles relaxed. Heartbeats aligned. Almost as if... Almost as if it were second nature...

"Damn it," I cursed, hurling my pen across the desk in annoyance, growing more annoyed as the pen thunked off the wall and rolled across the desk to fall to the floor in a final clunk. What was wrong with me? Why couldn't I just get over this stupid—stupid—

Shooting out of my chair, I went to my closet to get a change of clothes. Running would get this out of my system. Leave me too tired, too out of breath to think about what I'd seen—what I'd felt.

Taking a deep breath, I snapped the final twist of my hairband into place and pulled the door close behind me.

Where to?

Ahead.

---

Twas the night before finals, and I decided I was done with studying. Done with crunching facts and highlighting text.

What now, I asked myself. What should I do, who should I call?

Jordan?

Dialing up his number, I waited through the droning dial tones by tapping my pen against my glass of water, which made a surprisingly quiet and dull clinking sound. Finally, Jordan answered.

"Stella?" Jordan asked, sounding surprised over the phone. "Why'd you call?"

"Let's go out for food again," I suggested, laying back on my chair and allowing it to sink backwards with my weight. "I'm bored and done with studying."

"It's already nine—shouldn't you be worried about gaining weight?" Jordan joked, sounding tired but amused nonetheless. "Fine then. Let's meet at the pizza place we ate at last semester—remember where it is?"

"Yep, race you there!" I challenged, hanging up and sprinting to the door. This was fun.

---

"Table for two," I panted as I entered the pizza house. The girl at the register gave me an bewildered look before nodding and typing something into the computer at the register.

"Will the other person be arriving sometime soon?" the girl asked, glancing at the door as if expecting someone to burst in, sweaty and out of breath. "Do you know around when—"

"She's with me!" Jordan called from a table in the back, waving at us.

"Damn it, I really thought I could beat you," I admitted, taking a seat at the table.

"I live ten minutes away on foot, Stella," Jordan smiled, sighing. "You live over fifteen minutes away by car."

"Fourteen," I corrected. Jordan raised an eyebrow. "I timed myself. But I guess it doesn't matter, huh?"

"No it doesn't," Jordan said, taking a bite of his breadstick before meeting my eyes with mischievous grey eyes. "So what do I get?"

"Bragging rights," I suggested hopefully, shrugging. "What do you want?"

"Something more that, Stella."

"Alright, I'll pay for food."

"And? I'm losing valuable study time here!"

Fine!" I grumbled, racking my head for possibilities. "How 'bout a trip to Chicago? My family's hosting a gala there on the twenty-first—you wanna come?"

"As your date?" Jordan joked, grinning. "Kidding! But that doesn't sound like fun for me."

"It's for my dad," I clarified, forking a piece of spinach into my mouth. "He's opening a location in Chicago, so you might be able to make some valuable connections. Some big-name doctors and medical entrepreneurs will be there."

"Damn. So there really is a plus for having well-connected parents," Jordan sighed. "I'm in."

"Cool," I grinned as the pizza was served. "Oh, and yes, you will need to play my date."

"What?" Jordan asked, eyes widening in surprise as his pizza drooped sadly upon being rejected from a waiting mouth. "You're not going to pass me off as your fiance in order to please your parents or something, are you?"

"To please the crowd," I laughed, patting his shoulder comfortingly. "Besides, you'll get more points for dating the daughter of the guy who's hosting the event."

"What about your parents then?" Jordan asked. "Are you going to tell them that we're a fake item?"

"Of course," I frowned. "Only an idiot would try to lie to their parents about that. Face up to your own life—especially your love life."

"Hm," Jordan hummed, a small smile on his face. "I don't know whether to be happy or sad that I'm meeting your parents the first time as your fake date."

"You don't have to be anything," I supplied, grinning and popping a cherry tomato into my mouth. "Just come to the gala with me after grad. We're leaving on the twentieth—I got business-class tickets."

"Would've thought you all sat first," Jordan grinned. "Isn't that how it works when you reach the levels of the upper upper-class?"

"That's for snobs and celebrities," I sniffed, rolling my eyes. "Business is more than enough, and the flight attendants bother you less."

"Of course." Jordan smiled, raising a glass of coke in toast. "To business-class and fake items."

"To graduation and pizza," I added before cringing. "And finals."

"Pizza first," Jordan said, shoving a slice into his mouth. "Iths tho grood."

"It is," I agreed, biting into my own slice. How nice the simple things were—if only everything could be this simple, this straightforward.   

---

Hello my precious lovelies! How are you all?

New chapter for you all, hope you like it!

Please vote/comment to let me hear you!

—Littlewhims