I sat in Professor Peters' class with a cup of coffee in my travel mug. At least it was filled with Margaret's French roast coffee. It was a welcome change from the coffee I was used to from my mother's house - some bitter Parisian blend that she insisted on stocking the cupboards with.

I thought back to a couple days earlier when Avery and I finally signed the lease to our new apartment, feeling like I was on a high. We'd get to furnish the apartment how we liked and have whoever we liked over. If I want to house a homeless man to spite my mother, I could. I mean, I probably wouldn't unless I knew him, but the point was that I could. The freedom was a little overwhelming.

Professor Peters finished setting up her PowerPoint presentation before smoothing out her already impeccably smooth bun and straightening her brown blazer downwards with her palms.

She cleared her throat before she began, "When we think about romanticism in literature, an even larger movement also took place in poetry. As Wordsworth once said, there is no language other than the language of the heart." She paused momentarily before continuing, "Shakespeare's romantic words ring truer than ever while keeping this literary movement in mind. 'Shall I compare thee to a summer day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate; rough winds do shake the darling buds of May'."

She walked across the floor as she let her words sink in with the class. "Feel the heart behind the language used. Let this be a clue for you with your final assignments - it should be written with the language of the heart."

What the hell was this woman talking about? I loved Professor Peters' class, but I couldn't think of a single scenario where I'd spew out my heart's inner dialogue to a complete stranger. I couldn't even admit it to myself.

I packed up my belongings before making my way to the door. I happened to glance behind me to see a familiar blonde haired woman sitting on her own, unmoving. I walked towards her slowly.

"Stacey?" I questioned.

Her head shot up like I had pulled her out of a daydream. My eyebrows rose at what she was wearing. A baggy black t-shirt that swallowed her figure and loose grey sweatpants that hung from her hips. She had bags under her eyes and red-rimmed eyes. I knew the look. It wasn't long ago that that look was me.

"You doing okay?" I asked standing there unsure if she wanted me to be there.

She gave me a half-hearted smile, "Not really."

"Oh, uh, I'm sorry to hear that." I glanced behind me beating myself up for approaching her to begin with. This was beyond awkward.

"Mark and I broke up," she admitted.

"I'm really sorry, Stacey. Maybe I shouldn't have blurted things out like I did." Shame flooded over me. I was the reason she was in the state she was.

She shrugged packing her things up, "I'm sorry I didn't believe you about Aaron," she said quietly. "Turns out it's a pandemic with them."

My grip on my bag tightened. What happened wasn't okay, but I wasn't going to beat a dead horse. Things turned out pretty well for me, considering.

She glanced at my nonchalant expression, "I know that doesn't help. I don't expect anything I say to. But I needed to say it to you anyway. See, Heather mentioned a while back that she was into Aaron. I didn't say anything to you because I didn't think she'd do anything about it, or at least that's what I told myself at the time. Looking back, I think I just didn't want it to break the six of us up. I guess that was for nothing and clearly karma's a bitch," she laughed bitterly.

"You'll find better, Stacey. Anything's better than that."

She nodded, "I'm transferring schools. I'm finishing up the year but I'm leaving in a few weeks as soon as it's over. I don't know how you do it. I can't bare to look at them anymore. The three of them can have each other for all I care."

She stood up and pulled her bag onto her shoulder. Her posture looked defeated. She looked like she had lost weight. I felt bad for the state she was in. "Maybe I'll see you around." She said as she manoeuvred around me.

I waited until she had stepped out before making the trek to my psychology class. I collapsed into my seat, a little late due to my talk with Stacey.

Alexander raised his eyebrows at my frazzled demeanour. "You okay?" He whispered as the professor droned on.

I nodded, "Sorry I'm late," I mouthed.

Alexander and I walked out of class together as it ended, my head still in another world. I couldn't get Stacey out of my head. I felt guilty but also angry. Why did people think it was okay to act this way? Stacey had her flaws, but she was loyal to Mark. No one deserved to be cheated on.

My mind flew back to an argument I had with Aaron a year ago about his parents. Aaron's dad was constantly cheating on his wife, but June knew about every one of his 'excursions' as she'd call them. Aaron believed this made it okay because his mom knew what his dad got up to. I got so angry at him that we didn't talk for a week. Looking back, I couldn't believe the number of warning signs I'd just let slip. I stayed with him for two years. I probably would have accepted a proposal from him. When you're in the thick of it, it's so hard to see things for what they are.

A large hand waved in front of my face, "Where are you?" Alexander asked with concern.

"Sorry," I stated.

"Don't apologize. Do you want to talk about it?" He asked.

A small smile tugged at my lips. "I just had a run in with Stacey. She broke up with Mark because of what I said the other night. I feel so guilty."

"She broke up with Mark because of what he did, not you. The only reason you feel guilty is because you're so kind hearted. You have absolutely nothing to second guess about yourself."

Alexander spoke honestly, that was clear as day. But I couldn't help that nagging feeling that I shouldn't have said what I did. Or at least in the way that I said it.

He put his hand on my wrist to stop me from walking. I looked up at his towering figure, "I can see you second guessing yourself," he stated softly.

"I just think I didn't handle it well." I confessed. "I could have done it privately and not embarrassed her on front of everyone."

He put his hand under my chin until I made eye contact with him, "This is the girl that didn't believe your ex slept with someone else. You think she would have believed you unless Heather confirmed it? You're too sweet, Olivia." He stared deeply into my eyes and I got lost in the bright green orbs for just a moment. My eyes flickered to his lips taking in the soft, plush texture. I wondered briefly what it would feel like to touch them. To kiss them. I shook my head from my reverie and stepped back.

He cleared his throat, "While I have you, I wanted to ask if you'd come with me tomorrow night to my parents' house?"

My eyebrows shot up, "Your parents?"

"It's my dad's birthday and it's the first one without Victoria. I think having you around would make it easier for everyone - me included." He admitted. His eyes showed the sorrow behind them and I had the sudden urge to caress his face to ease his worry. It wasn't natural for Alexander to look distraught. I hated that look on him.

"Of course," I replied softly. "I'd love to."

He gave me a small smile, but it didn't reach his eyes, "Thanks."

What do you wear to an attractive friend's mom's birthday party anyway?