'You still smell of latte.'

I put on my sugary smile. 'Gee, thanks for reminding.'

Rachel puts down a sandwich before me. 'Sorry. Leigh is the complete Queen Bitch. I don't know what made her target you, anyway.'

I have dyed my hair back to strawberry blonde, but I am still known as the Pink in the Latte.

People point at me and giggle. Leigh Adams was one famous chick. From what Rachel told me, my pick-hair and latte covered look needs only a couple more retweets to surpass the guy who wanted free chicken nuggets.

Since last week, I have been shooting death glares left and right. I haven't had more run-ins with Leigh the Great, but I have had Christian giving me the cold-shoulder. He stares straight ahead during all of our classes, not even sparing a glance. I pester him for the time, for a spare pen, for misplaced notes: but, I must admit, the guy can really ignore you if he wants to. After my initial attempts to arouse even the tiniest of reactions from him resulted in back-to-back failures, I learned to shut my trap.

Even if Christian and I weren't on speaking terms anymore, he still manages to keep up the prank war. Here's an overview:

Monday, I spent four hours ripping cling film off my entire bed. I spent another two hours at the Baristas, waiting for Christian to fall asleep (Rachel informed me about the habit!) and drawing quite an art on a sleeping Christian. It was worth watching him parade around with Elvis-inspired side burns and, uh, couple of other nice things on his face.

Tuesday, I opened the door to Law class only to have a bucket full of water emptied on my hand. Apparently, my wet, shivered self has faster thinking capabilities – I managed to switch the crème of his Oreos with Colgate. It was, according to Rachel, something only a spawn of Satan would do. Ha.

Wednesday, I struck first. It wasn't my idea, though, it was Sean's. I brought paper the color of our chairs in Law class and wrote Kiss My Ass on it. I flipped it over and applied some gum on it, and placed it on Christian's chair. He had no idea why the ladies were actually kissing his butt. And I ended up eating a mayonnaise donut.

Thursday had me fishing maggots out of my soup and Christian face –planting the floor after I tied his right and left shoelaces together, when I went under the table on the pretense of having lost my spoon, with which I was fishing maggots.

Friday came by with me scratching my skull off due to Christian's itching powder debacle. I showered, got hold of Christian's phone number from Rachel and printed fliers advertising about a male stripper and had Zach distribute it in the whole of New York. It was funny watching Christian exasperatedly telling potent customers that he was not a stripper by profession.

'There's going to be a party tonight.'

I munch on the sandwich, after making sure that there are no creepy-crawlies on them.

'Who's is it?'

Rachel waves an ignorant hand. 'Not important. The thing is; it's going to be wild.'

I drape my bag across my shoulders as I spot Christian and Jared coming in. I am not in the mood for a show-down.

'Have a great time, then.'

Rachel clamps down on my wrist before I can get away.

'Not so fast, mouse. You are going with us.'

I shake my head. 'Nope. Not a chance.'

'According to a survey, parties provide 90% positive stimulation to the brain.'

I raise an eyebrow. 'You made that stat up.'

She lets out a whining sound. 'Oh, come on, Cor. It's the weekend, anyways. Don't tell me you are going to stay in and study for that seminar thingy you have next week.'

Bullshit. I definitely didn't come to NYU to study.

'Don't give me that crap. I know for a fact that you have aced your seminar.'

'If you are worrying about Christian, you don't have to.' She continues, catching my gaze on Christian. 'Parties are his forte. You just have to bear with him just until we reach there. After that, you won't find either of them.'

Her voice is wistful, and I know she's talking about Jared.

From what I gathered from last week, Jared is the university jock – the typical cocky playboy who goes through girls faster than he changes his shirt. He's basically attractive, with his windblown hair, and the muscular biceps, and the arrogant smile.

I see the way Rachel looks at him, like he is the epicenter of her universe. The only thing is that he doesn't see her anything more than a best friend, whom he saved from bullying, back in high school.

Christian Beneventi is much, much worse.

His Italian lineage has its own advantages. And then there are his greener- than-the-average-green eyes, his I-know-how-hot-I- am smirk, his characteristic flip of the hair and the terrible wink. And, that one is the talk of the campus – If Christian, University Heartthrob, winks at you, you are the next conquest on his hit list. And after he's done with you, you are just another broken heart down the pavement.

What a bunch of sissies.

I sigh and roll my eyes.

'When are we leaving for the party?'

/////

'Sit still.'

I fidget in my seat.

'For God's Sake, Cor. Sit still, or I am going to burn your skin off, or something.'

I glare at her.

'You wouldn't dare,' I growl.

Rachel raises her eyes to the ceiling, curling rod in hand. She grabs more of my hair and twists it around the rod.

'There,' she says, as she lets go of me. 'All set.'

I glance at the mirror. Rachel's black dress falls till my mid-thigh and it is completely off both my shoulders. The pendant she insisted I wear is looped around my neck, with matching earrings dangling on my ears. My lips are bright red and my eyes are smoky, dilated. My hair is in curls, unrestrained. My feet are in pumps and I know they are going to hurt in two hours.

Totally, I look like a hot, sexy girl. Repeat. I look like a girl.

What a catastrophe.

'Woah, you are going to sizzle the party.'

'I look awful,' I pull at the off shoulder sleeves. 'Isn't this a bit too much? Jeans would suffice, you know.'

'And one of your hideous hoodies along with it?' Her voice is incredulous. 'No way.'

Rachel pulls her hair back. She's in navy blue that sparkles, and she has topped the look with great jewelry.

It's hard to look at her and think that she could be classified as a nerd. But, she was. Rachel Brown was a nerd who had a great fashion sense, good with make-up and had fallen hard for a playboy.

Someone knocks on the door and Rachel grabs her clutch.

'That must be them. C'mon.'

She moves to the door. Christian leans on the doorframe.

'Hey,' he says, smiling. He hugs Rachel, and then pulls back, giving her a thumbs up. 'You look good.'

She rolls her eyes and shoves him off. 'Where's Jared?'

Christian shrugs, as if he knew he was always overlooked. 'In the car.'

Rachel scurries downstairs without even telling me. So much for sticking with me till the end.

I pick up the room keys and walk out, shutting the door firmly behind me. Christian's still there, eyeing me warily. His eyes flit from my shoulders to my legs and then all the way up.

'You look like a hooker.'

I flip him the bird.

'Seriously? You going to a party with booze, young adults and raging hormones dressed like that?' He snorts, his eyes frosty. 'Here's to hoping you'll get back in one piece.'

I lock the door and walk down the stairs. Christian follows suit, a scowl etched on his face.

'From where did you get the darn thing from, anyway?'

His eyes cling to my bare shoulder.

I twist fingers in my hair. 'Eyes up here,' I point to my eyes, before dropping the keys into my clutch.

'The dress is Rachel's.' I say, continuing my walk to the car. 'I'll let her know you don't appreciate her fashion sense.'

Jared's jet black Camaro is running, with Rachel riding shotgun. I look at her crossly as she gives me an embarrassed smile, and take the back seat.

Christian slips in next to me.

Jared's eyes lock with mine in the rearview mirror.

'Hey, Sea rock! You ready to rock this party?'

I raise a weak fist. Christian is sitting next to me, his upper body bent away from me, like he wants to get away from me as physically possible.

Jared does a once-over on whatever is visible of me in the rearview mirror. 'Jesus. You look bomb. Do you have a boyfriend?'

I see Rachel frowning, the easy smile on her face slipping to melancholy. Christian scowls too, but apparently for different reasons and he further shoves himself away from me.

I have a feeling that I'm in for a long night.

////

A big thank you for 200+ reads.

So happy.

Alex is happy too.