Viktor made an effort to make more time for me. It was sweet of him, since he was even busier than me, and he knew that he was my little piece of familiarity, something I could hold on to.

Of course, I needed something else to do, since I was getting my work done for school, plus I had weaseled my way into running an Instagram account for Viktor (solely for the publicity), but I had no money.

Zero dollars and zero cents.

Yay college.

I thought I had enough saved up over the last school year, since Blaine and I ran a tutoring session for the elementary and middle school kids after school, but that didn't go nearly as far as I had hoped.

During one of the many meetings he had to attend as senior class president, the official school people (or whatever they were) told him that he had to implement an afterschool care plan for the younger children just down the street from us.

Eventually they decided on tutoring with high school students helping out. That automatically meant him, which automatically meant Arti and me.

Blaine enjoyed it way too much, and the kids enjoyed his teaching style. He was fun, smart, and bribed them with candy.

I ended up tutoring the middle schoolers in math, after a quick attempt at tutoring the elementary kids. That didn't end well. I lost my patience a few times when they got their multiplication tables wrong.

A few other students and I all got paid to do it (which was the only reason Arti ever showed up), and I thought that it was a decent chunk of money.

It was not.

And to add to my growing to-do list, which included analyzing Viktor's games, doing all my work, destroying Dr. Mann and his fake class every chance I got, and trying to find time to keep in touch with Blaine, Matt, and Arti, I had to get a job.

Viktor and I hopped in line at the small coffee shop on campus, which was decently long for a change. Normally the line was long at the Starbucks, not there, which always pissed me off. Supporting the smaller local business felt like an obligation to me, but for some other people, the brand was everything.

Plus, Cool Beans Coffee was usually a million times faster and had a way cooler name.

Viktor looked down to me. "What classes do you have today?"

"Sociology. Whoopee."

"Anything else?"

I shrugged. "Yeah, but that usually just ruins the rest of the day for me."

"That's exactly like you. You can't let one little bit of negativity ruin your day," Viktor said.

"Watch me."

He laughed. "What about your anatomy lab? Don't you like that?"

"Yeah. Dissecting things is kind of fun."

"Then focus on that. You'll be much happier."

"I don't think you understand. Sometimes I just really love to hate things."

He looked at me. "I know."

I smiled.

He smiled back at me. "I really don't understand you. But I will, just give me a little bit longer."

"Good luck with that. I don't even understand myself."

The line inched forward, and I crossed my arms.

Viktor continued. "It's almost a game to me, trying to figure you out."

"Am I winning?"

"There's no score, Candy Cane. It's more like a race."

"Am I winning?"

"I feel like this isn't a sprint, but a marathon. And you're stubborn enough to keep going no matter what. I'm just trying to keep up with you, and I'll catch up one day."

"So all I'm hearing is that I'm winning," I said, smiling at him.

"Is everything a competition with you? I'm just trying to live here."

"There are two types of people: life's winners and life's losers. I've been a loser for way too long now, and no one's going to stop me from evening the score."

He shook his head. "You've lost a few games, metaphorically. That doesn't make you a loser."

"That sounds like loser talk. And trust me, without me, you'd be losing everything."

"I've been saying that for years, and you're just now beginning to believe it?"

"Viktor, I've always known it, but that's what I'm trying to fix. We're going to be winners together, you and me, and whoever stands in our way is about to get steamrolled. Maybe I'm a bitch, but fuck it. I'm going to be the winningest bitch you've ever known."

Viktor frowned. "That was pretty motivational, but I just want to know what your favorite color is."

I hesitated. My favorite color?

Did normal people actually have one?

"I guess I don't really have one. I don't just look at a color and think, 'Damn. That's a nice fucking color,'" I said.

He laughed. "I feel like your favorite color is purple."

"I just told you—"

"Yeah. You're a purple type of girl. Royal, majestic, and deep."

"What the actual fuck?"

My attitude may have been queen-like, but my wallet said peasant.

He smiled. "So now for something more important—"

"What could be more important than a person's favorite color?" I asked.

"Lots of things. What is your favorite month of the year?"

"That's easy. October," I said.

"Why?"

"It's just the realest month. No bullshit. If it wants to rain, it rains. If it wants to be sunny, it'll be sunny. If it wants to snow, fuck it, it'll snow. Plus, everyone likes Halloween."

"We should do a costume together."

I smiled. "That'd be cute. We can be Rocket Raccoon and Groot or something."

He laughed. "That's pretty accurate."

"I just wish we had everyone else for a complete Guardians of the Galaxy group. Blaine would naturally be Star-Lord since he's our self-proclaimed leader, Arti could be Gamora, since she fights her sister way too much, and that leaves Matt as Drax," I said.

"Every conversation we have somehow finds a way to include them. You're not doing too well, are you?"

"Well is relative. I'm doing just fine, compared to late August."

"But compared to an average day back at home?" Viktor asked.

I smiled at him and ignored the question. "When's your next game?"

"Thursday. You're gonna be there, right?"

"Of course, I am. I can't believe how much better you've gotten in just a year. Matt would freak out."

Viktor smiled. "He wouldn't freak out."

"He absolutely would. You're fangirl-worthy now."

"Stop it." He looked away. "You're making me feel all weird."

I smiled.

He didn't turn back to me, but he spoke again. "Sometimes I really think I screwed up."

"What do you mean?"

"I talk to Matt every day, of course, and he just seems overwhelmed. I miss him, and I wish I wouldn't have made him stay home."

"That's not your fault. That was ours. It was shitty of us to even involve you in that," I said. "It must be hard living with your best friend for a year, then suddenly you don't anymore."

Viktor nodded. "Yeah. It was nice to spend the weekend with him a while ago, even though he was sick. It's just better being with people."

I looked down at my feet. "I get that. Friendship is the most important thing to me too."

"Is it?"

I nodded. "Pretty much. I don't really know where I would be without Arti. We never really had to get along with anyone else, since we always had each other. Yeah, she's done some questionable things, and so have I, but I think that once you hit a certain level of friendship, you don't ever really go back."

Viktor smiled. "I like your perspective."

"It's the same thing with you, I guess. There have been times when I've gotten really upset with you, but it's never been anything that we can't fix. There's a solution to everything, I think, as long as you're willing to find it. And to me, that's the truest friendship you can have."

"There are some things, though, where there's really no solution," Viktor said.

"In extreme circumstances, yes. For example, I considered Eleanor my friend for a little bit, but she threw that all away."

"You'd never forgive her?"

"Nope. But I've let it go, as much as I can. I'm not, like, actively mad about it, but I get pissed when I think about it too much." I let out a chuckle. "I just get pissed way too quickly, I guess."

"It's not always a bad thing. I think it keeps a lot of situations from getting worse, if that makes any sense."

I shrugged. "Maybe, yeah."

The two of us finally reached the front of the line, and the girl at the register had messy hair already (even though it was still relatively early), and her hat was tilted sideways.

"Rough day?" Viktor asked, beating me to it.

She nodded. "Yep. Only two of us are here this morning, and we're getting our asses kicked." She covered her mouth. "Sorry, I'm not supposed to cuss during work."

I grimaced sympathetically. It was no fun when it was just Blaine and me running the tutoring service. "Looks pretty bad. I'll help you guys out if you want."

The guy working the coffee machines looked up at me. "You ever work at a coffee shop before?"

I shook my head. "Uh, no."

"Ever work a cash register before?"

"Not really."

"Can you at least make whipped cream and spread cream cheese on bagels?" he asked.

I smiled and nodded. "Fuck yeah, I can."

He smiled. "You're hired."

The girl at the register looked over at him. "Trey, can you even do that?"

He gave her a wink. "I just did. Welcome aboard, random citizen. Come get a hat and apron."

I pumped my fist. "Hell yeah, motherfuckers. Get ready for a shit show."

Viktor's mouth fell open. "What just happened?"

The girl at the register shook her head. "I have no idea."

She let me in to the other side of the counter, and she pointed to the back room of the shop. "Back there is the stuff you'll need. I'm Monique, but just call me Mo. That's Trey. Just don't fuck everything up for us, and we'll be good."

"No problem. My fuck-uppery is at an all-time low right now." I smiled. "I'm Amanda, by the way."

"Just make the whipped cream." She then turned to Trey. "I'm pretty sure you hiring her was illegal, but I guess we'll just roll with it for right now."

"Ah, Mo, chill out. It'll be fine. Look at her, she doesn't look like a failure," Trey replied.

"Thank you?" I said.

"I said to go make the whipped cream," Mo said, shaking her head. "God."

"Well, considering I've found it in the kindness of my heart to save your asses, I figured you'd be nicer to me," I mumbled as I walked into the kitchenette area.

There were several mixers, ovens, and a few canisters of who knows what in the refrigerators. I ran my hand along the faux granite countertop, which seemed excessively fancy for a place only employees could see.

"This'll be an experience," I said to myself, as I pulled heavy whipping cream out of the fridge.

It was pure chaos, courtesy of my mouth running faster than my brain again.

My absolute favorite kind of day.

"Make sure you wash your hands!" I swore I heard Viktor call from the outside world.

I laughed as I washed them in the sink.

He tried to help me no matter what, and I fucking loved him for it, even if it pissed me off a lot of the time.

I had never been expected to make whipped cream in large quantities before, and even though I tried to do the multiplication in my head of exactly how much of each ingredient I would need, I didn't even know what the secret Cool Beans Coffee Shop recipe was.

I always liked it, because it tasted different than mine.

But the customers that day were getting it my way, an Amanda Jayne specialty that I pulled straight out of my ass.

Gross, but my bullshit rarely failed me.

I poured a bunch of whipping cream into the mixer, a shit ton of powdered sugar, and just enough vanilla extract to pull my makeshift recipe together.

I searched the mixer for an on switch, and when I found it, I switched it on low.

It turned out that adding a shit ton of powdered sugar was not correct.

It ploofed up into a cloud, cascading over the sides of the bowl and onto my outfit. I didn't have an apron on even though Trey told me to, and I let out a sigh.

"Shit," I muttered to myself.

And just like that, my fuck-uppery was back up to its normal level.

I waved away the remnants of my miscalculation, still floating through the air, and I turned the mixer up just a little higher to speed up the process.

It seemed to stay in the bowl better this time, and I waited for it to form soft peaks.

It kept mixing, but it never seemed to deliquefy. I tapped my foot on the ground and crossed my arms.

Deciding that I needed to take fate into my own hands, I poured a few more cups of powdered sugar into the mixing bowl. I forgot to turn it off, and it seemed that half of it flew right back out and onto my black jeans, but I kept going.

The whipped cream finally came together, and I scooped it into some squirty containers for Trey to use on the drinks.

I opened up the door and handed him two of the canisters with a smile. "Nailed it."

He looked down at my black pants that had white powder all over them. "You sure?"

I laughed. "More or less. What should I do next?"

"Ask Monique. She likes to think she's in charge here." He leaned in closer to me and continued in a whisper. "She's not."

I did have classes most of the day, but with my first one, sociology, starting soon, I decided to skip it to work my new job.

Trey said I was hired, and I was gonna roll with that until someone fired me.