I didn't plan on telling Alyssa what Taylor and I were up to, but after I crashed into our room at two in the morning on a karaoke wave wrapped in a cloud of Taylor's pine and patchouli scent, she knew something was up. I blame the newfound high I was riding that triggered a lack of impulse control in my brain and the fact that Alyssa hasn't given me any reason not to trust her. She's allowed me space and surprisingly hasn't pushed me to do anything I wasn't comfortable with. 

Before I could second guess myself, it all came spewing out of me. I told her everything. About my mom, The Incident–the condensed version, I took pills and woke up in a treatment facility– and then about my dad's plan to make me his modern day Repaunzle. I'm locked in a tower disguised as a dorm room, doing the things he chooses, just biding my time until he decides that the world is safe enough for me to leave. If he completely had his way with me, I would probably be growing my hair out to a length of his choosing too.

"I knew something was up," she had said as she sat cross legged across from me on her bed. She hesitantly laughed as she continued telling me about how she called her mom after dinner at my dads house, claiming she thought I had been abused as a child. I tongued my cheek and shrugged. She isn't necessarily wrong. I wasn't physically abused in my dad's home, but our relationship wasn't and isn't normal. It has to be some form of neglect to ignore your child especially at a time when she needed him most.

It was only then that she pressed me about where I had been, and why I was smiling like an idiot despite all the shit I have been dealing with that I really didn't hold anything back. I folded with force, telling her exactly what Taylor had proposed and about how I begrudgingly agreed.

Alyssa didn't miss a beat before declaring her allegiance to me, and to Taylor's cause. Taylor and I's duo quickly made room for Alyssa, thus the trio was born. It helps that Alyssa is now officially dating Anderson, Taylor's roommate. She sees more of the inside of his house than I do, and I can't help the smile that fills my face every time a new picture of Taylor comes through in our group text.

The three of us fall into a rhythm over the next few days. Midterms are in full swing and with Taylor's increased practices, lifts, film watching—whatever the hell else makes the team spend an ungodly amount of time at the practice facility, I want to make sure I help uphold my end of the bargain. Along with being his sober support, which I'm pretty sure is just his way of making sure I don't drink or backslide into my past, I am also making sure he doesn't fail any of his other midterms after the biology debacle. He and Alyssa both barely passed. Simultaneously phone calls came in from both, whining after the scores had been posted online. It was as if they rehearsed together, giving me the same spiel insinuating that I made them spend too much time making flashcards instead of actually studying. I did find joy in hinting around the fact that I passed and well above the curve with an eighty five percent.

After that, both Taylor and Alyssa promised to give my method another try. We have formed an assembly line in Harry's every afternoon after the lunch rush. Alyssa gets there first and hogs the biggest booth, Taylor orders the food because he will eat his and then half of ours. And I supply the necessary tools for an ultimate study session. We move like a conveyor belt, just rotating through each subject to optimize the time spent until our respective exams this week. Taylor and I have American literature and statistics, while Alyssa prepares for public speaking and ethics in journalism. While I help us tick things off our school to-do list, Alyssa and Taylor anxiously wait to remove things from the Help Camryn Build Her Case list.

Apparently while I'm not around, they give no attention to school work and solely focus on planning the sequence of events for the list. A list that I'm not privy to until it's completely finished. I can't blame them though, I know for sure I would veto at least a few of the suggestions. 

"And done!" Alyssa says in a half yell half groan. "I am fully prepared to make this speech my bitch!"

"That's what we like to hear, shortie!" Taylor says as he picks a fry off my plate pointing it at her like a finger. I snatch it from him and shove it into my mouth.

"What about you, Reed? Are you ready to make statistics your bitch?" I ask.

"I'm at least not ready to be it's bitch," Taylor shrugs.

"But not ready to claim it as your bitch? We obviously need to study more then," I shrug back before returning my attention to the digital textbook pulled up on my screen. Taylor and Alyssa groan in unison. "Don't even. You both wanted this." I point my pen between them making them exchange a look. "Do you want to see another sixty nine percent!?" I instantly regret the words even before they leave my mouth. The stainless steel top of the table cools my forehead as I wait for their laughter to stop, Taylor's at the sixty nine joke and Alyssa's at how hard it makes him laugh every time I've reminded him of his score.

"Come on, Capt. we need a break. I'm a full sponge," Taylor says, kicking me lightly with his foot under the table. I whine, but it only makes him chuckle again.

"It means he can't hold anymore," Alyssa explains. She still hasn't quite picked up on sarcasm, but she's learning.

"Got it, Lys thanks, but our exams are in the next two days. So work now, break later."

Taylor and Alyssa share another glance. I roll my eyes and continue to select and highlight the text.

"About that...it's a bye this week. No game," Taylor explains. 

"And?" I tiptoe, fully knowing where this is going.

"The list is complete!" Alyssa shrieks. "We have carefully curated a list that is sure to show your dad that you deserve the independence you want! You will be so involved he will think 'Who is this and what have you done with my daughter?!'" I narrow my eyes and study them. Of course Taylor's eyes are fixed on mine. One of his most appreciated attributes is his patience. He never feels the need to respond straight away, feels no need to jump. Instead he likes to watch first, looks at body language to predict what's going to happen. It has to be why he's so good at football. He holds an ability to assess the field before making any moves of his own, allowing him to easily glide past opponents.

It's ironic that I know this about him from watching him, but it was also another confession one night in this very booth. Living with just his mom and his sister made him an expert at watching for non-verbals. He figured out quickly that with women he needed to know their next move, to plan his own. I'm still watching him now as one side of his mouth twitches and curves into his perfected smirk.

"Let's see it," I say at the same time Taylor says, "It's a secret."

"That isn't what I signed up for." I cross my arms over my chest and stand my ground. "Technically, Quinn. You did." I glare at him, but he only returns it. I sizzle under his gaze, the intensity mimics a fire beneath my skin. He narrows his eyes a little, but it somehow increases the green of their glow instead of dimming it.

"I agreed to do these things, but I also agreed to know what they are."

"I think it's better this way," Alyssa adds. I'm tempted to find a way to roll back the tapes, but it makes no difference at this point.

"We'll tell you before they happen, but you can't see the whole list. Don't want to give you a chance to over think anything," Taylor offers.

I swipe my tongue over my lips. I've never liked surprises or the ambivalence they bring, the never knowing if it will actually turn out in your favor. The last surprise I was given still haunts me. It gave days that ran into weeks, quickly rolling into years of numbness. A little voice deep inside my head swirls awake. It flutters to my ear and whispers that Taylor knows me more than either of us would like to admit. If I had known he was going to take me to karaoke, I would have spent days curating the perfect excuse to get out of it. I have gone to extremes before, creating fake message threads, faking hospital bracelets, all to get out of obligations. Friends stopped inviting me out altogether. It stems from The Incident, the feeling of second guessing your ability to make even simple decisions, to trust yourself.

It rings like white noise in my ears, the threat to revert back, to not trust Taylor. I do trust him, though. If anything he's proven to have my best interest in mind always, Alyssa too. I thought for sure the moment Gabi and her mom pulled away from my dorm after helping me move in that I wouldn't find another her. I was sure I didn't need anyone else, that there wasn't room for anyone else. But what if I want to be wrong?

"Do I at least get a notice before it's happening? I don't want to show up to the MET gala wearing converse," I say, secretly hoping item number one is in fact a spontaneous trip to New York City.

"You would make a statement," Alyssa shrugs, "But I think a day's notice should suffice."

"Sure. Give her a day." Taylor nods in agreement.

My need to control urges me to ask for more. Taylor ignores me, only giving me a day, Friday. Alyssa eagerly adds the time three o'clock. The exact time my last midterm is over.