E L E V E N

IN COLLEGE, EVERY week is hell week.

Each week is often every bit as stressful and unpleasant as the one before.

Midterms have just ended, but already the pile of work that needs to be done--whether it's preparing for that big ass final report or plowing through the week's reading assignment--is steadily growing bigger. It's really no wonder people are always stressed out.

But all the stress he'd accumulated over the past semesters has nothing on the stress he'd accumulated in the past three days alone. He'd spent every day like he'd spent his Monday: Skittering around the department to make sure Sadie isn't skipping, escaping Drew with as much creativity as he could muster ("I think I left something" or "There's something I have to check"), and narrowly dodging getting caught every time.

It was exhausting work.

Colin has been trying his best to talk himself out of it, but whenever the opportunity presented itself, his feet would betray him and the next thing he knows, he's casually walking by her classroom as though his own class was not in a completely different building two blocks away.

With all this pent-up, not to mention unexplained, frustration, Colin welcomes Thursday with a comically bad mood. He wakes up at seven, though his first class isn't scheduled until ten. He can't remember what his dream was, not even a little bit, but whatever it was had not been pleasant because he woke up feeling like he wanted to punch himself in the throat.

In his bad mood, his brain fails to realize the one thing he should have realized the moment he got out of bed: Sadie's also awake. Her makeshift futon is neatly folded and she's nowhere to be found in his room.

The obvious implications of this, however, are completely overlooked by his restlessness, and when he sees her in the common area, his heart jumps into his throat.

She's sitting on one of the beanbag chairs, a laptop balanced on her legs. Instead of working, though, she has her head in both hands, her shoulders slumped forward.

She looks up when he steps out, and for some reason, the movement makes him take a rather violent step back.

His shoulder hits the doorframe. He lets out a hiss, reaching over to rub the sore spot, perfectly aware of her wide-eyed stare.

"Are you okay?" she asks.

"I'm fine," he snaps. The grimace on his face says he's anything but.

He wants to retreat back to his room.

No one else is awake yet, so it's just the two of them. He would have gone back to bed if he didn't have to pee.

If he didn't know how to be around Sadie before, it's even worse now. With Drew and Perry, it's easier. Alone, however, complicated feelings of anger, worry, confusion--and even guilt--immediately take over, turning him into a bumbling idiot who can't even exit a room properly.

Needless to say, it is not turning out to be a good day.

In the bathroom, he does his business, then spends a considerably long time shaving and washing his face. Once he's done, he runs his wet fingers through his hair, trying to get rid of his obvious bedhead.

He takes his time, not yet ready to be in the same room as Sadie again, but there's only so much a person can do inside the bathroom without causing much suspicion. Any longer and Sadie might think he's...

He doesn't even let himself finish the thought. His face warms, and he has to splash it with water all over again.

This realization forces him to move faster. Not that he cares about what Sadie might be thinking. Not that Sadie would be thinking about him doing that. Would she?

Jesus Christ.

When it becomes clear nothing in the bathroom can make this situation any better (in fact, his fucked up brain has now convinced him that it will only make it worse), he finally steps out.

He hadn't done anything even mildly dirty in the bathroom, but the thought of Sadie possibly thinking he had makes him feel as though he actually had.

It's the dumbest thing he's ever felt.

He does his best to dash right back into their room, trying to avoid looking at her completely, but Sadie suddenly speaks and it startles him so much he almost trips.

"You took Stat 101 under Davis last year, right?"

He blinks rapidly, still trying to catch himself because, honestly, what the fuck is wrong with him?

It takes him a moment to realize she's still waiting for his reply. "Yeah," he says, and his voice may or may not have cracked.

If she notices, she doesn't show it.

"Would you happen to still have notes for..." She grabs her binder, flipping to a page, and then looks back at him again. "Binomial distribution?"

"Notes?" He reaches up to scratch his head. Belatedly, he realizes it's only going to make him look like an idiot. He drops his hand. "I think so."

"You still have them?

"I can check."

Judging from how this morning had started, Colin can think of a thousand ways this day could go from bad to worse. He'd planned on going for a run, but when he comes back from his room with his laptop, it becomes clear that he won't be able to make a run (pun not intended) for it.

He settles on the other beanbag chair, putting a safe distance between him and Sadie. It doesn't take him long to find the folder he's looking for and he clicks on the file to make sure it's the right one.

"Do you mean this one?" he asks her, turning his screen a little to offer her a look.

It was an oversight on his part. This gesture, one he'd done without much thought, was one that Sadie had taken as an invitation to stand up, walk over to him, and settle on a spot next to him. She sits on the floor next to his beanbag chair, folding her legs beneath her.

Her hands graze his bare knee when she turns the laptop her way. Colin sucks in a breath at the contact, feeling like he'd been burned. He doesn't know where to look, so he keeps his eyes firmly planted on the opposite wall.

"Yeah, this is it, I think."

"Okay."

Sadie looks up at him and this somehow forces him to look back. "Do you mind sending it to me?"

"Yeah. I mean, no, I don't. Mind, I mean. Um. Let me just..." He tries to reach for the laptop, but her hand is still hovering by the mousepad. He gulps.

Bad move. Oh, boy, what a terrible move.

Her eyes drop to his throat. He feels it more than he actually sees it. Colin, not for the first time that day, wishes he'd never gotten out of bed.

He shifts uncomfortably. The movement makes Sadie drop her gaze. It might just be Colin's imagination, but she also inches back a little. He takes this as an opportunity to retake control of his laptop, turning it back his way.

"I can send it now," he says, and before he can stop himself, he starts to babble. "I don't think my notes would be much different from yours," he begins. "I just wrote what was on the slides. I might have also missed some important points. Davis goes through slides too quickly sometimes, you know? It's a little hard to keep up. You probably know, though, since, um... Are you sure you want this? Really, it won't be much different from your notes."

Colin would pay someone to shoot him in the mouth right now.

Before he can further agonize over his inability to act normal, however, her reply effectively shuts his brain up.

"I missed the lecture."

She says it quietly, her eyes downcast. She wrings her hands together in her lap.

If it had been anyone else, Colin would not have thought much of this statement. But this is a different story.

After all, he'd spent the better part of the week darting in and out of corridors to make sure Sadie's where she should be. Because she might not be. Because she might be going through something bad.

Really bad.

Colin looks at her hunched shoulders. His hand twitches, like his body is subconsciously telling him to reach for her.

"So," Sadie recovers, her voice a little higher than usual. "You can just send it to my--"

"Why?" he cuts her off. He doesn't know what takes over him, then. He's never been one to pry, but he finds himself latching on the opening.

"What?" She blinks, like she isn't sure what he's asking. "I mean, I guess you don't have to send them. If, uh, if you don't want to."

"I mean," Colin says, swallowing past the lump in his throat. "Why did you miss the lecture?"

Sadie stares at him. He can't hold her gaze so he looks down instead.

"I wasn't feeling well," she replies, her voice barely audible.

Everything he read off the Internet rushes into his head as he takes her answer in. He tries to think it over, to talk himself out of this conversation and let her deal with this alone because she doesn't look like she wants to tell him anyway.

But try as he might, he just can't let it go.

"How long?" he says. This time, he forces himself to look her in the eye. "How long have you been feeling unwell?"

Sadie sucks in a breath.

She must know what he's truly trying to ask. She's completely still. Colin isn't even sure if she's breathing.

He feels the guilt creeping up on him, thick and heavy. The question must like a low blow, and the guilt immediately creeps in. If she burst into tears at that moment, he might have actually punched himself in the throat.

"What do you mean?" she says after what feels like forever. She rubs her palms on her leggings. "I was just feeling under the weather so I skipped. No big deal." She makes a move to stand up.

Colin quickly catches her by the wrist, his hand moving on its own. Her wrist is smaller than he'd expected.

He keeps his grip loose, but he can almost feel her unsteady pulse. "Sadie," he breathes out.

She won't look at him.

"Sadie, I think you might be--"

"I know," she cuts him off. Then, quietly: "I think so, too."

◇

When they were kids, Colin and Sadie spent every day trying to make each other's life miserable.

Colin was dragged into the whole thing by force, but after being on the receiving end of Sadie's admittedly creative antics, Colin learned to hate the girl for real, and to fight back when needed. They'd pull some stupid shit to get the other in trouble, constantly at war, fighting over the pettiest of things and having absolutely no concept of too much or too far. Everything was fair game.

Really, it was a mess. They were kids and, boy, did they act like it.

Middle school was worse, though. It was awkward and confusing, in general. Even more so when Sadie started looking like, well, a girl. Somehow, she'd become a stranger in ways he couldn't explain.

At first, they still bickered and fought over the tiniest things. But it wasn't really much of a battle. Sadie was undefeatable. Nothing fazed her. At fourteen, Sadie Reynolds acted like she'd never let anybody step on her or her friends and if you so much as tried, she'll make you regret it.

Colin, at fourteen, convinced himself that the ridiculous war they were having wasn't worth his time. He stopped looking for fights, resorting instead to aggressively ignoring her. (It didn't work much--she'd become very good at riling him up by that time.)

Later it dawned on him that the reason he hated her so much was because she'd won.

Despite his attempts to convince himself otherwise, he was always losing the war, and the only reason he dropped his weapons was because he wanted to cop out of it before a clear winner could be decided.

She must have realized it, too. He was no match for her: Colin's always the one who ends up losing his shit, while Sadie remained cool and collected. The more he tried (and failed) to ignore her, the more confident she became.

She enjoyed it, he was convinced, the way he reacted whenever she pushed the right buttons. It amused her. Colin hated it and hated her, because it felt like she was dangling her victory right in front of his face, gloating because they both knew it: She was undefeatable.

But at twenty, Sadie Reynolds is a walking mess.

He hates it. He hates her.

He hates that he can't seem to leave her alone.

◇

Before Colin could ask her about her plans now, Perry wakes up, panicked, shirtless and very much late to his lecture. Sadie and Colin have no choice but to drop the conversation and help him look for his missing flash drive because apparently, he badly needs it for a report but not as badly as he needs a shower since he already skipped yesterday (and possibly also the day before, but this, he refuses to confirm).

Everything about the morning is turning out to be increasingly more chaotic.

The commotion wakes Drew up and he joins in on the search, carrying a bowl of cereal the whole time.

Eventually, Sadie finds it tucked inside one of Perry's thick textbooks. He had thanked her, promised he'd get her something nice, and left without styling his hair, which, honestly, is saying a lot.

Drew happily resumes his breakfast and asks them to join. Sadie ignores the cereal, but grabs what's left of the strawberries from the fridge. Colin feels more exhausted than any person should be at eight in the morning. He wants to go back to bed but is too hungry to do so. He makes a cup of instant coffee and grabs himself some biscuits.

"What are you working on?" Drew asks when he sees Sadie typing away on her laptop.

"Just trying to catch up on some work," Sadie replies vaguely.

"Is there a lot?"

"Kind of," Sadie admits. She tries to smile. "I can handle it."

Drew nods and, casually, reaches over to lift a lock of Sadie's hair. Colin blinks at the gesture.

"What?" Sadie asks Drew.

"Nothing. It's just so curly."

Sadie laughs and turns her attention back to the screen, not at all bothered about Drew examining her hair. It all just seemed so natural and Colin can't understand the whys or hows of it.

He can't even breathe properly around Sadie.

"Look, Colin, touch her hair."

He was taking a sip of his coffee at the time and he very nearly spat it out at the sudden attention.

Sadie turns his way. He braces himself out of instinct, because the old Sadie would have grabbed onto this opportunity to tease him. This Sadie doesn't. Instead, their eyes lock for a split-second, and then they both spend the next five seconds pretending they don't notice.

Colin can't decide which is worse.

Blissfully unaware, Drew says, "It's just like a telephone cord."

Sadie clears her throat. "So I've been told."

"So cool."

Colin heaves in a breath, feeling uncomfortable. His eyes snag on Sadie's hair, on the lock that's gingerly wrapped around Drew's index finger. It's just hair. Why is Drew making such a big deal out of it?

"Look, Colin," he begins to say again, "her hair is so--"

"I do not want to touch her hair," Colin snaps.

"--soft," Drew finishes weakly. He looks at Colin, his eyes wary, then he offers a hesitant, "Okay?"

Colin stands up. "I'm gonna go for a run."

God knows he can't stay here any longer.

◇◇◇

a / n :

Actually a little proud with how this chapter turned out, though nothing much actually happened. There's a lot of groundwork that needs to be covered before we can get to good stuff.

Buildup, guys. Buildup. I'll do my best to make it all worth it.

Love, always, 

Sam