The sunlight was stabbing needles of coarse pain in the morning as I slid off the bed in a daze, half-running, half-falling to the bathroom to heave my insides into the sink.

"There's a toilet two feet to the left, you know?" a voice asked sarcastically. My mind whirled as I tried to place it—unsuccessfully, as I promptly doubled forwards to continue regurgitating the remnants of last night. "Well at least open the faucet when you're done. I'll be in the kitchen."

After another few minutes of clean-up and head-splitting pain, the voice registered. Weston de Mattei—what was he doing in my apartment? What—

The party. Shots. Lots of them. Calum. Kimberly. Oh god.

"Weston!" I called, wincing at the sound of my voice reverberating inside my aching head as I made my way, unsteadily, towards the kitchen.

"Yes?" the brown-haired boy drawled, swinging around the doorframe to appraise my condition. "One nasty hangover, check. And let me guess—you wanna know what happened last night."

"Yeah," I said, grimacing as another wave of pain rolled through my head. "But let's start with why you're still here."

"'Cuz it's not proper etiquette to leave after a one-nighter," Weston said matter-of-factly, smirking. "And even less so when it's with the girl your best man's into."

"We didn't fuck, Weston," I said flatly, impatient. "That much I'm sure of. So why are you still here?"

"Aw, you're no fun," Weston grinned. "I crashed at your place. It was late, and I was tired."

I gave him a dubious frown—that certainly couldn't be all of the reasons he'd spent the night on my couch— but didn't press. For now. "Alright then—what happened last night after the shots?"

"You don't remember anything?" Weston asked, a conspiratorial grin forming on his face.

"No, but I can guess when you're lying," I sighed, hand pressed against forehead as I walked towards the fridge to pour myself a cold glass of milk and take some advil. God, I hated hangovers. "So spill. Also do you want hot pockets? Pepperoni and cheese."

"I'd usually tease you more, but since you're being so kind," Weston said, accepting the frozen packages and popping them into the microwave. "Nothing happened. You got past two dozen—and holy fuck can you drink—and Jordan insisted on pulling you out, so he and Calum topped 30 or so drinks total. Jordan was completely hammered at the end, while I, the ever-responsible adult, was the designated driver. Your flat was the farthest so I dropped you off last—your neighbor was kind enough to open the door for me at two am in the morning."

"Alright," I said, thinking the information through. So nothing catastrophic had happened. That's good, I thought as the microwave spun the plastic-wrapped burrito-like objects around. "So why're you still here then? Surely not to leech off me in the morning?"

"That's half of it," Weston laughed. "But the truth..." The boy frowned, averting his eyes. "You said something last night."

"No," I groaned, clapping my hands to my face before peeking through the fingers. "To you? Or to Jordan?"

"To me," Weston replied, eyes trained on the spinning packages bathed in orange light. "But you thought you were talking to Jordan."

"Oh," I said, dropping my hands as relief and confusion engulfed me. "What did I say?"

"That you didn't like him that way," Weston said, voice flat as he turned to face me with a vacant expression. "That you'd decided. On Calum. That Kimberly wasn't worth it. That—"

"Alright. I get it," I sighed, holding up a hand to cut him off. "I told you everything. Great. Just great."

"Well, I'm going to assume you told the truth then," Weston said, popping the microwave open before it screamed for attention. "Tell Jordan soon, would you? We're leaving next Friday. Early morning. Thanks for the food."

"Does this mean you're giving up on Corraine?" I asked, unable to stop the question from flowing from my mouth. Such an action—it was unfathomable, astounding, completely altruistic and amazing. I needed to know if it was real. If it was genuine, as pure as it seemed to be. I needed to know.

Weston froze at the doorway, a foot out the frame and the other still inside, a hand raising the hot pocket to his mouth and the other holding the door open. He turned, an inscrutable look on his face. Confusion? Tiredness? Loneliness? Sadness? Innocence?

"Perhaps," he answered curtly, almost as if he'd just remembered that there were consequences to my actions as he shut the door behind him with a quiet click.

The click was all I could hear for a while. A final click.

And then I remembered about the cooling burrito-like wrap cooling in the open microwave.

---

"So," Quinn started, thumbing the condensation on the sides of her frappe experimentally.
"God, Quinn, what do I do?" I groaned again, burying my face in my hands.

"Calm down, for starters," Quinn said, offering me an amused smile. "You need a clear head if you're going to go through with this."

"I know," I mumbled, face still hidden. "It's just..."

"You'll be fine, Stella," Quinn reassured, laying a comforting hand on my shoulder. "It's not the end of the world."

"Maybe not for you," I shot back, dropping my hands to give the brunette a half-hearted glare, "but it might as well be for me. If it goes wrong, they'll both hate me. I'll hate me."

"But this is what you really want," Quinn reminded me, and I clapped my hands to my face again. "This is what you've always wanted, Stella. Calum."

"I—"

"No more freaking out, Stell," Quinn said, lifting my hands from my face. "You've decided. That's all I've ever wanted to hear."

"Why," I asked, foregoing the question mark in my desolation.

"Because now we have a clear goal," Quinn grinned, pulling out her phone. "And we can make a clear plan. This revelation about Kimberly's really changed my opinion about her relationship with Calum too."

"Oh," I said blankly, offering a small smile back. "That's good."

"I'll call the girls," Quinn said, patting my shoulders a final time before standing up to head outside and call the other members of the clique. "You'll be fine now, Stella. Kimberly doesn't have a chance against you."

"Right," I responded, not knowing what else to say. I was going to confess to Calum. To tell him that I loved him. That Kimberly wasn't worth it because she didn't see him for who he was. That she saw his kindness as some sort of ploy for her virginity.

I was better for him.

---

I bit my lip nervously as I pulled up into the school parking lots. What was I doing? What would i say? Why did I ever want to do this in the first place?

For Calum, the reasonable half of my muddled brain reminded me. So that Kimberly doesn't break his heart.

Right I was going to meet Calum at the base of the bleachers on a chilly Wednesday night in June and tell him the truth—that I loved him and that Kimberly wasn't worth it. That she thought everything he'd done so far was all part of a ruse to get her virginity.

God that would kill him. Every time I talked to him about their relationship he'd been so happy about Kimberly, so earnestly in love with her. Sure I thought it was just a phase that would wear off after they spent more time together, but Calum wasn't one to date, and if he did it would be seriously. To know that she never felt the same about him...

Footsteps sounded behind me, light and hesitant, causing me to turn around with a nervous grin on my face. I froze.

"Kimberly?" I asked, brows knit together in confusion. "What—why... Why are you here?"

"I wanted to hear the truth," Kimberly said, eyes defiant. "And I want to exchange my truth for your truth."

"Your truth?" I echoed, not really hearing her as I was busy running through the text conversation I had with Calum.

'Cal, we need to talk.'

'What's up?'—Calum my love. Still needed to change that.

'I'll tell you in person—6pm, at the bleachers?'

'Sure. See you there."

Thinking back on it, Calum's texts had been unusually curt, but I was so tense I didn't let that bother me. I didn't peg Kimberly for a possessive girlfriend, though.

"That I love Calum," Kimberly explained, eyes hard with resolve. "That I love him and I'm not letting go of him, no matter what pranks you and your friends pull on me. That I don't believe he doesn't love me—not anymore."

I paused for a second, silent as I thought her words through. This sudden change in opinion...

"You fucked him," I concluded flatly. So miss innocent virgin lost her v-card at last. Kimberly reddened. "Surely not while he was drunk?" I questioned, brows scrunched. Kimberly wasn't one to fall for drunk Calum...

"No, the morning after," she said quickly. "He was rambling about how much he loved me and how pretty I was and I..."

Another pause. One I didn't want to break, but I had questions that needed answers.

"You stole Calum's phone."

"No!" Kimberly denied, guilt painted over her features like a mask. "I was looking through his pictures—with his permission—and he was showering and you texted, and I—"

"So he doesn't know that we're here," I deduced. "You texted me back, deleting the texts after."

"Yeah," Kimberly admitted, eyes trained on the ground. "I needed to talk to you—to tell you the truth—that I'm not going to play this game with you anymore." Kimberly raised her eyes, defiant. "I like Calum, and I don't want to have to put up a wall whenever he comes close. So I need to know whether our relationship was all because of a sort of bet or promise."

I gave her a cool stare. "Why do you suppose that he had to make that sort of pact with me?"

"Because he's closest to you," Kimberly explained, expression torn between annoyance and defeat. "Because there's no one who knows as much about him as you."

Her words aroused a flutter in my heart—Calum and I weren't estranged by her arrival. We're still as close as we always were—always are.

"Stella, I need to know," Kimberly pleaded. "I can't keep blocking him out. I love him, and it hurts me to try."

"Ask Calum then," I told her, growing annoyed myself. Why was she here, preventing me from seeing Calum? "Why're you here, asking me the questions you should be asking your boyfriend?"

Kimberly fell silent, eyes dropping to the floor. She twisted her fingers together nervously, pausing before she spoke. "Do you love Calum, Stella? Because I need to know if you don't—I need to know if you do."

I gave Kimberly a blank look. The brunette let out a small laugh, tearing up.

"It's pitiful, isn't it? I'm here to intercept you from telling him—whatever you're telling him. Because if you're confessing your love," Kimberly said, taking a shuddering breath before continuing in a whisper, "I don't know what I can do to prevent you from tearing him away from me."

"I do," I breathed, deciding in a split-second to be brutally honest with her. To lay it out, hell with the consequences, because in front of me was a girl baring it all as well. "I love Calum."

Kimberly made a strangled noise as her breath caught, backing away from me.

"So," I started, eyes still on the girl, "This is where we stand. At the crossroads. What are you going to do, Kimberly? I've made up my mind already—what about you?"

Kimberly shot me a glare—angry? Sad? Frustrated?

"What can I do?" she asked, voice seeped in defeat. "If you confess to him, that's the end, isn't it? What would you have me do? You're everything I ever want—ever hope to be. What—"

"Stand up for him, Kimberly!" I snapped, angry. "Stand up for Calum, your boyfriend. Have confidence in yourself! Confidence in Calum, because he wouldn't stoop to date a girl that would give up on him so easily, so willingly!"

Kimberly looked at me, eyes wide in shock.

"Do you think... Do you think he loves me too?" she asked, eyes dull but hopeful. "Do you think I have a chance against you, Stella?"

I took a shaky breath, expelling it slowly as I thought her question over. No, I didn't think—memories surged over me. Calum laughing with her in the library, being nervous about asking her out, losing himself in her eyes as they slow danced together in the crowd, eyes trained on her.

"Yes," I breathed, hating that I could admit it so easily. "I think you have a much better chance of coming out of this intact that you give yourself credit for, Kimberly."

---

Hello my lovelies! Exciting (or not-so) news: I might be finishing this story soon! The end is sooner than I intended, but it depends on the direction I take the story... Let's all hope for the best :)

Vote/Comment to show your support and let me hear your thoughts! Updates every Tuesday, as usual.

Until next Tues! 

—Littlewhims