The next morning I woke up to the blaring sound of an alarm. I groaned loudly and rolled over in my bed, pressing the end of my pillow against my ear to drown out the noise. News flash: it didn't work. I opened my eyes just a little bit, peeking over at my roommate's side of the room.

She sat up and stretched, her shirt rising just a little bit exposing her stomach and she sighed. She ran a hand through her hair on her scalp, not trailing them down as it was tied in a messy braid and stood up. I groaned again, though softer this time, and flopped my head down and tried to go back to sleep, but a soft voice pulled me out again.

"I'm...I'm sorry I woke you. I should've said something...about me being a morning person."

She lowered her head and grabbed her shower caddy and a towel and left the room. Feeling sleep leave me, I sat up and rubbed my eyes, running my hands from my eyes and down my face. Sighing, I got up and got dressed, pulling on a running t-shirt, black yoga pants and my sneakers, pulled my hair into a ponytail, and grabbed my phone, headphones, and ID and left my room.

The campus was quiet as students tried to get a few more days of sleeping in before classes started next week, which I wasn't looking forward to. Plugging in my headphones into my ears and starting my running playlist, I shoved my phone into the pocket of my pants along with my ID, and took off running in a random direction, not really caring where I ended up. That's what I did when I was bored: I ran. I loved running, but for some reason, I hated doing it for a competition. So, I pretty much hated track and field.

I remembered my breathing exercises and practiced them as I pushed myself to run faster. The beautiful morning scenery of campus flew by me in a colorful blur, not that I was looking. My eyes were focused solely on the path in front of me, so I didn't have time to process when a tall guy wearing a blue athletic shirt and black running pants with light blonde hair ran in front of me, throwing me off my rhythm, causing me to stumble. I thought I was going to fall, but to my surprise, the same guy that cut me off caught me and saved me from a few bad cuts and scrapes. He steadied me and looked at my face and smirked at me.

"You didn't see that coming, did you? You should probably watch where you're going. You don't want to hurt yourself. Or others," he said, his smirk growing. I furrowed my brow in frustration, feeling my anger coming to the surface. I stepped closer to him and stood on my tippy-toes and jabbed a finger into his chest.

"I should watch where I'm going? You're the one that came out of nowhere! You watch where you're going."

He was quiet for a moment as he looked me up and down, still smirking. Finally his smirk turned into a smile and said, "You know you're cute when you're angry." Which did nothing to help dissipate my anger. "I'm Pietro. What's your name, beautiful?"

I scoffed and started to walk away, but something about Pietro made me turn back to him. Staring into his light blue eyes, I gave him my best intimidation look—which made him smirk again—and placed my hands on my hips, leaning to one side.

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"I would. I would like to know very much," he replied quickly, not missing a beat. He really thought he was being so smooth. He had no idea how much of an asshole he was sounding like right now. I debated strongly on whether or not I should give him my name. I mean...what was the harm in giving it to him? I had a pretty common name and I could guarantee that there were multiple people on this campus alone with the same name as me, so it's not like he could find me or something. Plus, he didn't know where I lived, so I'm pretty sure I'm safe. Bicky would probably say otherwise, but who cares? He's not here. I folded my arms across my chest and smirked back at Pietro who was waiting patiently for an answer.

"Claire."

"Well Claire, it's nice to meet you," he said holding out his hand to me. I stared at it, still smirking, but didn't return the gesture.

"I wish I could say the same."

He let out a laugh and pulled his hand back and relied, "Wow you really are a firecracker in the morning aren't you? So feisty."

"Well, my roommate woke me up. I guess it's a little obvious that I'm not a morning person," I deadpanned with a shrug. Pietro nodded in understanding before he looked at the watch on his wrist. He breathed out a chuckle and looked back up at me and ran a hand through his blonde hair as his cheeks turned a light pink.

"Not to sound too forward, but...could I get you're number? Maybe we could get together for a run sometime or coffee or...whatever?"

I was taken aback by his sudden change from cocky and smug to nervous and almost...charming? I...didn't know how to answer him. I mean, he was very attractive (it was really just his attitude that was a big downside), but...I wasn't used to guys being interested in me. It was always more of the other way around. Same with women. I always pursued my people of interest, but I had to admit, I did tend to favor women. I gave Pietro a sympathetic look and pressed a hand to my forehead and cleared my throat.

"Actually, I'm..." How do you tell a complete stranger that you're not interested in them, not because they were a gigantic asshole, but because there's no possible way you would be able to work as a pair, without laying out your whole life story and romantic history along with your sexual orientation? "I'm...playing for the other team...?" I mentally smacked myself for coming up with the most cliché phrasing of "We can't work, I'm gay" ever and cursed myself for sounding so lame, but Pietro didn't seem to mind. He nodded his head and smiled at me.

"I wasn't looking for anything romantic...it's just, you seemed pretty cool and..."

"Oh. Oh okay, well then...sure I guess." My cheeks flushed a light pink at my misunderstanding as Pietro pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened his contacts before he handed it to me. I entered my name and number into the appropriate boxes and handed it back to him smiling. "There you go."

"Cool. Thanks." He turned to leave but stopped mid-step and spun around to face me again, a huge bright smile lighting up his face, as a giant lightbulb floated above his head. "I just had a brilliant idea. Give me your phone."

I raised my brow, but ultimately listened to him and handed him my phone. He scrolled through the different apps and opened my contacts. I walked around to stand beside him and watched as he created a new contact and proceeded to enter in a name and number that I didn't know, Wanda Maximoff. I moved my hands to my hips and raised a brow at him, questioning what he was doing.

"What are you doing?" I asked him.

"Changing your life for the better," he replied as he handed me back my phone. He had moved out of my contacts and created a new message with this Wanda woman and texted her, "Hey".

"Who is this?" His smile grew as he stood a little straighter.

"My sister. She plays for the other team too," he replied as he lightly elbowed my side and winked at me before bursting in a fit of laughter. My phone buzzed with a text from Wanda.

Who is this?

Glaring at Pietro, I responded to her.

Sorry, you definitely don't know me, and I'm really sorry for this. I ran into your brother Pietro and he gave me your number. I'm Claire. Again, I'm really sorry. I promise I'm not a creepy stalker.

JESUS FUCKING CHRIST WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME!

Lol. That sounds like Pietro.

I'm sorry I sound so fucking weird. I'm not usually like this.

It's fine. Believe me, I'm no better.

"Well, have fun and good luck. I gotta go," Pietro said, taking off in a light jog to my right and running down the street before I could say anything more. I threw my hands up in the air and shouted after him, only getting a laugh in reply as he ran farther away. I shook my head and shoved my phone back in my pocket and started running again.

I ran for a few more minutes, stopping when I reached a small café. I walked in, ordered myself a large coffee and a chocolate muffin and moved to sit at one of the tables outside, basking in the early morning sun. My phone buzzed again with another text from Wanda.

Honestly you're fine. Pietro's always doing this. It's gotten to the point where I'm not even surprised. So Claire, I'm assuming you live on campus?

Yeah. I ran into Pietro while on a run. Literally. He ran into me.

Lol.

No offense, because he's your brother and all, but he's an asshole. Lol.

LOL! I'll tell him you said so.

Please don't.

Alright. Your secret's safe with me.

I smiled at her message. Surprisingly, this was going well. Wanda was...really nice and warm, regardless of the fact that we've only been texting for about an hour.

So how's your morning going? You're up early.

Yeah, I'm not really a morning person, but I couldn't go back to sleep, so I went for a run. I guess my morning's going pretty well. Wish I was in my bed asleep, but alas, here we are.

Well, I'm glad your morning is going better than mine.

What happened? If it's nothing personal...

No, it's fine. I don't think my roommate likes me.

I'm sure that's not true.

IDK. I'm a morning person, so I accidentally woke her up this morning. And last night she kinda snapped at me. I don't think she likes me.

Well, as my brother Bicky said to me, it's a big adjustment. Just give her some time; maybe she'll come around.

Bicky? His name is Bicky? I'm sorry I fi I sound a bit rude, but what kind of name is Bicky?

if*

Lol! Sorry, his name's not Bicky. That's just a nickname I gave him when we were younger. His real name is James, but everyone calls him Bucky because of his middle name. You were completely justified in asking, lol.

Ok, lol.

I chuckled to myself, earning a few a questioning glances from other people who were around me, but I didn't care. Bicky will always be funny, no matter what.

So other than your roommate trouble, how's your morning going so far?

I guess okay. I was the first one in the shower, so that's a plus...I think.

Ha! I count it as a plus. Take joy in the little things.

Pietro says the same thing.

I guess even assholes can be wise...

Lol.

I didn't stay at the café long, and after about another hour (another hour I spent talking to Wanda), I got up from my table, threw out my trash, and started running back in the direction of my dorm. It was after 10:00, and I wanted to shower and go back to bed.

Punching in the code to my room, I entered and groaned out of exhaustion. My roommate, who was sitting in her bed reading a book and drinking a cup of tea, looked up at me, her cheeks turning a light pink color. She quickly glanced back at her book, avoiding my eyes and scratched the back of her neck. I shrugged and grabbed my shower stuff, towel, and change of clothes and left the room and into the bathroom.

○○○

I sighed in content as I walked back into my room after my shower. I felt relaxed and refreshed, but most importantly, I felt clean. I scrubbed all the sweat and grime off me that I accumulated from my run and from moving in all my stuff. I put my stuff away and hung up my towel on the hook on the door to my closet and sat on my bed, pulling my damp hair to one side and tying it in a loose braid.

My roommate was still in her bed reading, except she kept looking over at me, not focusing on her book. Every time her eyes connected with mine, they would dart away back to her book and her pink cheeks would darken. I was a little guilty; I think it was my fault that she was so jumpy around me. I shouldn't have snapped at her last night, and I should probably let go of the fact that her alarm woke me up. She already apologized, so it should be forgiven right? Maybe I should take my own advice. I sighed and dropped my braid down my back and cleared my throat, startling her a bit. Her light green eyes shot over to me and she blinked rapidly for a few seconds.

"Hey...so...I'm sorry I've been an ass. I shouldn't have snapped at you last night. I mean this when I say it, I wasn't mad at you, just...self-conscious I guess—"

"I shouldn't have been staring, so it's on me too. I'm sorry too; I didn't mean to make you self-conscious. I'm not used to being with other people...besides my brother, so I can promise you I'm going to do more socially awkward stuff before the year is over," she replied, looking down at her hands, playing with the number of rings on her fingers, a small smile gracing her blushing face. I smiled at her, feeling a little more at ease about our situation and sat farther on my bed, leaning my back against the wall. I pulled my knee up to my chest and clasped my hands together around my knee, keeping it in place, and laughed. She looked over at me and started to laugh too, her face reddening.

"I can't believe we literally just moved in and we already had a fight," I said scoffing.

"I know. Again, I'm sorry I woke you up. I'm not used to being with someone who doesn't know I'm a morning person."
"Honestly, it's fine. If you didn't wake me up, I wouldn't have gotten in my exercise for the day, and I'd probably just be waking up now. You did me a favor." She smiled at me, exposing her small and subtle dimples. She looked down at her bedspread and closed her book and placed it on her desk.

The room descended into a weird type of silence; it wasn't uncomfortable per-say, but it was a little awkward. I shifted in my seat and looked back over at her and in an instant I remembered that I literally didn't know who she was. I didn't know he name, where she was from, what her interests and dislikes were, what her major was, etc. I mentally smacked myself as I cleared my throat again. She tore her eyes off her covers and looked at me, her eyes a little wide, as if she didn't expect the noise.

"So, I just realized something." She lifted her head up a bit and hummed. "We literally know nothing about each other."

She furrowed her brow and looked down, internally reflecting over every interaction we've had in the past few hours (note: there weren't a lot). When it dawned on her that this was in deed true, her eyes met mine again, growing wider and her mouth forming an "o" shape.

"You're right," she said after a minute. "Where do we even start?"

I shrugged and said, "Probably with our names...I'm not good at this part. To be honest, I don't have any friends outside of my brother."

"Me too. My brother and I—we're twins—we were orphaned when we were really young, and it was hard for me to trust other people outside of him. That and I'm not as social as he is."

My eyes widened. I couldn't believe it; there was someone else on this campus that knew what it was like to go through what I went through? It didn't seem real. I had someone in my life that understood me? Understood what I went through? She looked at me with a weird look, her eyes not leaving mine.

"I'm sorry. I understand everything you just said. My—Can I get real with you?" Part of me considered not laying every moment of my life story out to a complete stranger, but it was quickly refuted by another more dominant part of my brain that screamed at me to overshare. She smiled at me and nodded.

"Of course."

I took a deep breath and sighed, and after a few seconds said, "So, I lost my dad when he was overseas and my mom a few years after that from cancer and spent the rest of my childhood being shuffled around in foster care, until I landed on Bucky's family who took me in and later adopted me. So, I get what it's like; not being open to other people. It's one of the reasons why I have no friends." I took a breath and looked over at her before quickly looking away, my face heating up. "I'm sorry, that got dark really quick."

"No, it's fine. My brother and I lost our parents in an accident when we were ten, though we were lucky; we had family that took us in and raised us, but even so...I was sheltered by my brother, so my social skills aren't...the best. I never really liked people enough to want to make an effort to get to know them."

"Any particular reason why you don't like people?"

"I never got along with others. They always thought I was weird." She played with her rings again and looked down. Through mediocre detective skills, I was able to deduce that this was a nervous or comforting habit of hers.

"Why?" I asked, my eyebrows crinkling in confusion. She didn't look weird. True, I don't really know her, but I have a sixth sense about these things. There's no way she's weird.

"Mostly because I was quiet. I would—and still do now that I think about it—go long periods of time without saying a word to anyone. I kept to myself a lot and would stay in my room reading a book or listening to music or sleeping. Whenever I did go out, I would stick close to my brother and follow him around like a shadow. He never minded, but I know it kind of freaked out some of his friends..."

She trailed off at the end and looked back down at her hands, still fidgeting with her rings and the few bracelets that she had on her left wrist. Her words were so...sad and filled with so much pain, and my heart broke for her. I knew exactly what she went through, but I was...less innocent? than she was. I was considered weird because I went through the goth phase too early and lasted much longer than it was considered normal. People also thought I was a psycho, but that's neither here nor there. It doesn't matter now; I'm over it and don't really care about what other people think about me.

I offered her a small empathetic smile and got up from my bed and walked across the room to her side. Standing in front of her, I grabbed her desk chair and pulled it to the edge of her bed and sat down, looking right into her green eyes. Without thinking, I grabbed her hand and squeezed it; she flinched a bit and her breath hitched as she inhaled.

"You don't need to worry about what other people think about you. They don't know you or your story, and therefore have no right to judge you. Just be you." Her face softened and she lightly squeezed my hand back but didn't respond. I looked down and chuckled, my face heating up.

"What's so funny?" she asked, starting to laugh too.

"Can I please have your name? It seems a little...disrespectful that I keep referring to you as 'she' in my head."

She laughed louder, pulling her free hand up to cover her mouth, her green eyes sparkling, and her nose twitching as she laughed and said, "I'm Wanda."

I froze. What were the odds that there were more than one Wanda on this campus? I'm not a math major, but I would say it's pretty slim. Wanda's brows furrowed in confusion and I cleared my throat before I answered her.

"Well, this is a little awkward..." Did I just say that out loud?! What the fuck brain?! "What I meant to say was...I'm Claire."

Wanda's eyes widened and she pulled her hand out from mine. To be honest, I had forgotten that it was even there. She pulled both her hands into her lap and tore her eyes away from mine.

"You...you don't happen to be the Claire? Like the Claire that was texting me earlier?" she asked, her soft voice barely making it to my ears. Her cheeks flushed bright red as she tucked a piece of auburn hair behind her ear. My face heated up more making me look like a tomato no doubt. Sweat formed on the back of my neck and I moved my up to scratch my head. My eyes darted away from her and looked down at her bedspread.

"Uh...yeah. That was me. I'm really sorry if I weirded you out. I promise Pietro took my phone and put your number in and sent the text."

Wanda giggled, her nose wiggling just a little bit as her head leaned back. She clutched onto her leg as her body followed the movement of her head. Her cheeks tinted to a light shade of pink and I smiled at her.

"I totally believe you. He's always trying to make me become more social, so it doesn't surprise me that he'd give my number out to a stranger if it meant I'd make a friend," she said as she settled down, bringing her head down to look at her hands. My face started to heat up at her words. I coughed and cleared my throat, avoiding her eyes which I knew were on me now. "What?" She smiled at me, raising a brow.

"That's not...really the reason he gave me your number..." I started nervously. I didn't want to make her uncomfortable; I didn't want her to think that I agreed to the romantic setup. I know what it's like to be set up on dates, it never ended well. Wanda's brows furrowed in confusion and she scooted to the edge of her bed, resting her arms on the tops of her thighs, and leaned forward.

"Oh?"

"Yeah..." Claire ran a hand against the back of her neck, subtly wiping away the newly formed sweat, "he kinda sorta found out that I'm...not available for him and thought that maybe we could...'connect', I guess since he said that you...you know..." Wanda sat up straight and paled a little, and I was filled with a sense of guilt and stupidity. Was she not ready to be outed? Was that something she would've wanted me to know? Maybe Pietro told me that in confidence...?

Seeing her expression change, I jumped up and waved me hands and said, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. It's none of my business and it's not something that I have to know. I promise I'm not judging you, I'm just—"

"Pietro told you?" she asked me in an unsure voice. I nodded.

"Yeah."

"Pietro told you?" she asked again.

I nodded.

"Pietro...told you?" she asked once more, getting up from her bed and pacing the floor.

"Yeah, he told me this morning."

"What exactly did he say?" she asked as she looked at the floor. I thought about it for a minute before I answered her.

"He said that you 'play for the other team too'," I explained, holding up my hands to mock quotation marks. Wanda stopped pacing and looked over at me.

"'Too?'"

Again my face started to heat up and small beads of sweat formed on the back of my neck. I looked away from her and down at the floor and started to chuckle nervously.

"Um..." I didn't know what to say. Wanda and I just met, and I didn't feel entirely too comfortable disclosing something as personal as my sexual orientation. Though, to be fair, I did know hers...wouldn't it be fair for her to know mine? But it's not like I asked to know what she identified as...Pietro told me without even batting an eye, so did the rules of reciprocation really apply here?

Wanda looked at me, expecting an answer, but when I hesitated, she blushed and tripped over her words. She picked at her fingers and played with her rings all while trying to make comfortable eye contact with me, though she did look away from my eyes a few times.

"I'm sorry, that's way too personal for me to ask. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, I have no right to know—"

"In your defense, I do know about you. It's only fair that I should tell you..."

"But I don't want you to think I'm trying to force you to tell me." Wanda's voice lowered and wavered. I looked down at her hands and saw them shaking a little.

"Wanda," she looked up at me and I could clearly see that it wasn't just her hands that were shaking, but her whole body, "you can ask me you know. It's not like some big secret."

"I know, but I'd rather you not tell me. Even though it's not, it feels like you're telling me out of obligation, and I want you to tell me because you feel like you can trust me and feel comfortable to tell me."

I nodded at her andthe conversation shifted to our class schedules and life outside of here. Wetalked about our interests and hobbies, what our majors or fields of studieswere, our families...pretty much anything that came to our minds. A little after two,Pietro stopped by and was a little shocked to find out that the "feisty runner"was his twin sister's roommate. He sat with us, joining in our conversations,and every so often (and not so subtly) he would look between me and Wandawhenever we would agree on anything, he would stare at me with a goofysmile, narrowed eyes, and wiggling eyebrows. I had no idea if Wandacaught it, but for some reason I prayed she didn't. All in all, Pietro was anice guy and was really funny...at times. As the afternoon dragged on and when werealized that we had skipped lunch, Pietro pushed us into his truck and droveus around until we could decide on a place to eat. Thank God!