The CASE building is one of the newest buildings on campus, with a bustling student center, café, and lounge spaces for students to study in. Primarily, it's upper classmen since a lot of the upper division courses are held here, but this year there must be a big freshmen 1000 level course in the auditorium because as Ryder and I step out of our Gender and Sexuality elective course, the entire first floor is flooded with panicked-looking freshmen.

It is the first day of classes, so it makes sense that many are either lost, confused, or painfully hungover from Welcome Week. The first week on campus in the dorms is notorious for basically being a party 24-7, so it's more than likely that half the students milling about right now haven't been sober for almost seven days straight.

Once most students reach sophomore level and above, you live off-campus in the Boulder area, so we were spared from the Welcome Week festivities this year. It's a stroke of luck too, especially because I definitely feel like I'm too old now to be hanging around a bunch of plastered 18-year old's who've just discovered the freedom of life without their parents nagging them.

"Jesus," Ryder scoffs as a gaggle of girls pushes by us, more than a few elbows digging into his side as they hurry off to their next class.

"Too many people," I agree, feeling annoyed at the shrieking and shouting coming from the crowd as everyone tries to find their way.

Somehow, we make it past the bustling throng of students unscathed and push our way out the front doors of the building. It's warmer now, given that it's nearly 1 pm and I feel my stomach rumbling, in need of food before my next class.

"You got time to grab some food really quick?" Ryder asks, like he read my mind and I nod eagerly.

"Yeah, I don't have class for another hour," I agree.

"Sick," he grins as we start down the long flight of concrete steps that lead away from the CASE building. We decide to head to the UMC, knowing that the Alfred Packer Grill usually had something good in there. Despite being named after a cannibal unironically, the university run restaurant is actually pretty decent.

"What's your next class?" Ryder questions as we follow the path towards the UMC, weaving quickly between another group of freshmen taking up nearly the entire sidewalk.

"It's a recitation actually," I tell him. "For Modern and Contemporary Lit."

"Oh," he makes a face. "Are you taking a lot of electives this semester?"

"Yeah," I nod. "I've basically completed my degree at this point, apart from time outside the Computer Science major, which I still need to graduate. So, I'm taking random shit like this next class and the one we were just in."

"Oh yeah," he shrugs. "I'm kind of doing the same thing. That last class should be interesting though."

I chuckle agreeing. Gender and Sexuality is a 3000-level sociology elective that is filled with some students like us, who are clearly only there because it seemed like the least boring sociology elective that still fills degree requirements.

Then there's the frat dudes who clearly only chose the class because they saw the word 'sexuality' and thought it'd be a hot bed for finding potential hook ups, the sorority girls who probably thought the same thing, and the few kids who are there because they're passionate about the subject.

One girl, for example, whose name I didn't catch, had already shared with the class about how she felt campus isn't welcoming to all sexualities and that CU could do more work to be inclusive. Something the professor clearly felt bad about, but being younger, wasn't sure how to handle.

"The professor's hot," I comment and Ryder nods.

"She looked fresh out of grad school," he agrees, as we both think of the tall, curly headed woman who'd shown up nearly ten minutes late. And on the first day no less. She'd been dressed in pleated pants and a white button down, a pair of thick glasses on her face that fulfilled more than one 'hot for teacher' fantasy I'm sure I shared with the majority of the dudes in that room.

"Bet you I could get an 'A' in that class without doing a lick of work," I joke, which earns another chuckle from my best friend.

"Class work at least," he plays along. "You'd probably have to do a different kind of lick work if you know what I mean."

I snort with laughter, his implication surprising me as I shake my head while we step into the UMC. We stroll to the grill then, exchanging a few more crude comments with one another before getting in line to order. Once we've both gotten our sandwiches and sides, we take our trays and enter the seating area, spotting an open booth not too far away.

We approach the booth, Ryder sliding into it as I spot a familiar face moving towards us. She hasn't seen us yet, her caramel-colored hair falling in two thick braids on either side of her head as she carries an empty iced-coffee cup, backpack slung over one shoulder.

She smiles when she sees me, and I give Ryder's shoulder a shove as he glances over and waves to Savannah Hayes.

"Hey guys," her warm voice causes both of us to grin, unable to help the affect that a girl like her has on almost every guy, well really every person, she meets. No one can deny it—Savannah is a stone-cold knockout.

"Hey Savannah," Ryder drawls, standing to pull her in for a brief hug before I do the same. The scent of her expensive perfume filling my senses as my eyes trace the lines of the black jumpsuit she's wearing. It's sleeveless, with a small gold buckle at the front cinching the material so it outlines her figure in a way that's almost unfair.

"How's the first day of class treating you two?" She asks softly and we glance to one another before shrugging.

"Not bad," I offer. "Just got out of Gender and Sexuality."

"Yeah, think I'm already hot for teacher," Ryder jokes and Savannah laughs.

"No Ryder," she corrects. "We all know who you're actually hot for, and she's not a teacher."

"Fuck off," he scowls as Savannah and I laugh together, I nod at him. She's right.

"Don't deny it man," I join in. "Especially not when she's single now."

We're talking about Jourdan, a girl I still hadn't really seen or met officially. Mostly because in the past she was always with her boyfriend, and recently she'd been almost completely MIA in the wake of his death. I know of her, and she probably knows of me, but again, we'd never really had a conversation. But Savannah's good friends with her, so I'm sure she'd know if there was anything worth updating Ryder about when it came to Jourdan Mathews.

"If you deny it, then you'll really never have a chance," Savannah adds. "We still have a whole year altogether, who knows what could happen."

"That's very true," I grin.

"Anyways," Ryder is quick to change the subject. "You coming to Justin's birthday party this weekend? Should be pretty off the hook."

"Maybe," Savannah shrugs. "Depends on who's there."

And by that I know she's referring to Lars. Unfortunately, he and his girlfriend, Riley, are two of the main reasons she isn't around all the time. Which is a shame because I'd gladly hang with Savannah over Riley any day.

"Come on, Lars isn't that bad," Ryder tries but she just shakes her head, a flash of frustration in her eyes before she smiles again. "And we don't see enough of you."

"I agree," I nod. "I'd love to continue our conversation from that last party."

It's a shot in the dark, the last time we were at a party together was last school year, where she and I had chatted in the backyard of some frat house. Specifically, we'd discussed why the two of us didn't hang out more one on one, but then we'd been interrupted by a very drunk Tristan who'd been seething over Andee Parker dancing with some random dude we didn't know.

"Oh Wyatt," Savannah giggles lightly, her sapphire-colored eyes meeting mine as she raises an eyebrow. "I'm flattered, but I already told you, I'm just not that kind of girl and you're not the kind of guy who's looking to settle down just yet."

"Oof," Ryder claps me on the back as I laugh too. "She's got you there."

"Fine," I concede. "But you know I'll always have a special place in my heart for you."

"How sweet," she says dryly, smirking. "But on that note, I do have somewhere to be."

"You should come Friday," Ryder repeats and she gives him a look.

"We'll see," she says absently before waving to us as she strolls by, we both say our 'goodbyes' to her, watching her walk off as the sounds of her heeled sandals echo farther and farther away.

"I can't figure her out," Ryder muses next to me and I nod in agreement. She'd always been a bit of an enigma, but I get the sense she likes it that way. Then we take our seats, turning back to our food.

"Gotta say though, she is one cool chick." He adds after taking a bite of his sandwich.

"Yeah, I wish she and Lars didn't hate each other's guts," I comment, taking a sip of the lemonade I'd gotten before popping a chip in my mouth. "It'd be nice if she hung around more."

"I feel for her too," Ryder muses, more to himself than to me. "She's actually really sweet, obviously she's smoking hot too, but you know, there's all that shit on the internet."

I nod, taking a bite of my BLT. Despite how common it is these days for shit to get leaked on the internet, it's always a bit of a novelty when you know someone with leaked nudes and a sex tape. Well, calling that video a sex tape is generous, it's a minute long clip of a girl getting her pussy eaten out by some dude. But it's Savannah, and there are a lot of assholes on campus who won't let her forget it. Even if it was leaked her freshmen year and our sophomore.

"Doesn't seem like it phased her," I shrug. "But granted, neither of us really have any idea what that must be like."

"Have you seen the video?" he asks, and I pause before nodding. He nods too, taking a sip of his sparkling water before continuing. "Whoever leaked it was a fucking dick."

"Agreed." I say firmly. "I'd gladly teach them a lesson if she wanted."

Ryder nods his head firmly, a glint in his eyes that says he'd do the same. Honestly any of the guys in our group, including Lars, wouldn't stand for that shit. We'd go to bat for any of the girls we're friends with just on instinct, but Savannah's never brought it up. And out of respect, it didn't feel right to broach the subject with her unless she came to one of us for help.

The rest of our lunch conversation passes with the discussion of class, practice tonight, and the party this weekend. Then we go our separate ways, Ryder off to get some extra time in the gym and I walk to my recitation.

Normally recitations aren't held the first week of classes, but with the course load in this class, the professor told us in their introduction email that wanted us to meet our fellow classmates as soon as possible so that we could get the information for the projects this semester.

The recitation is held in Ketchem, a building that looks dated on the outside but is fully renovated inside. It smells like fresh paint and cleaner as I step inside, my shoes squeaking on the shiny new stairs as I head to the basement.

I walk a long corridor before I reach room 1B30, pushing open the door to a pin-drop silent classroom. There are rows of black tables with chairs behind them, and a few students already seated as the door swings shut gently.

My gaze sweeps the rows, landing on the very last table in the back as I feel something flip inside me when I realize who is also sitting there.

Of fucking course.

As if the universe hadn't fucked with me enough this summer, it seems that the irony gods aren't quiet done with me yet. I let out a low chuckle under my breath, striding to the back of the classroom and shuffling behind the table to where none other than Aurora Harris is sitting, typing feverishly on her grey Mac Book pro.

"Who's stalking who now?" I joke, keeping my voice hushed as I think of her comment when we'd ran into each other at the movies so many months ago.

She looks up, confusion etched into her brow before it smooths, and she smiles.

"Don't tell me you're in this class too." She grumbles and I nod, shrugging off my backpack before sliding into the seat next to her. The last time I'd seen her is still fresh in my mind, though I'd been trying to avoid thinking about her.

"This is Modern and Contemporary Lit, right?"

"Yep." She nods and then shakes her head, laughing. "This was going to be so much easier when I thought I wasn't going to see you every week."

"Hey," I play with her, pretending to be hurt. "What's the matter? Don't like me anymore?"

"You know it's not that," she says softly, turning her head to look me in the eye now, something in her gaze that makes a prick of sadness blossom within me. I know, trust me I know, her words from that alleyway make it difficult to swallow for a moment.

You're the one who did all those things like I'm the only one.

Like you wanted to prepare me for the night.

Only for me to find out that you'd been doing all those things with another girl, a different girl just hours earlier.

I realize then I need to see Amanda. I need to tell her I won't be calling, not when it hurt Aurora to know I'd been with someone else. What we'd both said still rings true, we don't know how to handle this, neither of us saw this coming, and we can't see a way out of it. But right now, for the time being at least, I can't be with anyone else. Even if I also can't be with her.

"I know," I say finally, letting out a breath. My eyes scan her, admiring how pretty she looks today. I mean, she always does, but her eyes seem extra green, her dark hair pulled into a low ponytail as a few whisps escape to frame her face. She's dressed in an oversized t-shirt and a pair of jean shorts, and I feel something swell in my chest when I spot the bracelet, I'd given her on his left wrist.

I reach across her, my fingers tracing the gold band as she inhales softly.

"You're wearing my bracelet." I murmur, meeting her gaze again and she nods.

"Never take it off," she admits, and then she smiles, a sly expression on her face before she continues. "Well, except to shower or . . . take a bath."

I swallow a groan then, trying to suppress the thoughts of her in my bathtub. Of the way her naked body had looked standing before me, so shamelessly, her cheeks pink as she'd let me memorize every part of her, I could see.

"Fuck," I let out a breath, sitting back as I cross my arms over my chest.

"So," she says, turning her head slightly as a few more students filter in. "Looks like we're gonna have to get used to this whole seeing each other thing."

"Unless you want me to drop the class." I offer, I'd do it for her. Degree requirements be damned, I'd find something else, and if this is going to be too painful than I don't want her to suffer.

"No," she shakes her head quickly. "No, don't. We're both adults, we can handle this."

"Okay," I grin.

"Besides," she says slowly. "Now we have an excuse, you know. We're in the same class, so naturally we'd see more of each other. To work on assignments and stuff."

"Oh," I nod, realizing she's right. "Yeah, might as well study together. Especially if it means we get better grades."

There's no harm in having a study buddy, I couldn't see Ryder having an issue with that. And, if it means I get to be around her more. If it means I won't feel so miserable having to keep my distance, then . . . well, maybe being in the same recitation isn't so much of a complication after all. 

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