Elena is waiting for me by the entrance of the Humanities Building, and my steps slow as soon as I see her.

Shit.

She told me she took me home on Saturday, and it wasn’t much of a surprise, considering she’s the only one who knows where I live apart from the guys. None of my friends could’ve been on the highway that night — there was a party at the frat house they wouldn't miss. 

I made a mistake. I wasn’t careful, and since Elena saved my ass, I gave her a thank-you kiss. I aimed for her cheek, only that she was fast shoving her tongue down my throat. Gratitude made me carry on with it, but now? Now there’s only regret. 

Her random and weird act of kindness wasn’t enough to make me want her, so I halt and hide behind a tree. Ten minutes pass, and the rest of our class spill out of the building and strut to the bus Dr. Garcia said would take us to the woods.

Elena glances around and joins our classmates. I’m the last to get on the bus, and the only vacant seat is next to Barbie.

She’s wearing a parka and has a backpack. A pair of hiking boots is on her feet, and I stifle a laugh because I expected her to show up in high heels and a skirt like the one she wore a few days ago. 

“The prof told us to sit with our partners,” Barbie says. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

“Hello to you too,” I say, sitting. 

The corners of her mouth lift. “So, we’re on greeting terms now?”

“Only because I don’t want a bad grade for being rude to my partner,” I say. “Don't get too excited."

“No worries, Basti. I’d rather spend a day with bugs than you.”

Tara winks and faces away from me, looking at the traffic behind the bus window. I didn’t realize we started moving, but we’ve already left the campus.

As my eyes skitter over the rows of seats, they land on Elena, who looks at Tara with so much hatred I quickly avert my gaze.

What’s her fucking deal? Barbie and I can’t stand each other. Even if we were friends, Elena has no business being…jealous?

Fuck. Of course, that’s what it is. Why the hell did I kiss her? A thank you and coffee would’ve been enough.

“Bast.”

Tara’s fingers wrap around my wrist, and I jolt at the contact. She removes her hand and points toward the front of the bus, where Dr. Garcia is explaining our assignment. 

“Thanks,” I mumble.

She shrugs and makes sure not to talk to me for the rest of the drive.

♡♡♡

The woods we end up in look like something straight out of a tourism commercial thanks to the multi-coloured foliage.

Burnt umber, cadmium red, and yellow ochre are only a few of the colors my eyes discern. Too bad the sky is dark — the landscape would’ve been even more spectacular otherwise.

I’m gaping at what’s around me, paying attention to only half of Dr. Garcia’s remarks as we advance along the hiking trail.

Best class ever. Who the hell needs dusty auditoriums and stale air of the campus buildings?

“Best class ever,” Barbie whispers by my side.

I pause, unsure if I heard that right. “What did you just say?”

“I said best class ever, Basti.”

“Is it?”

She twirls the end of her ponytail around her finger, her head tilted to the side, and squints at me. “Let me guess. You’re about to say someone like me can’t enjoy the day out because ew,” she grimaces, “the mud and oh my God, the bugs.”

I keep quiet because she’s right. That’s what I thought. I expected Barbie to stick out like a sore thumb outdoors, but she looks like a model from a hiking gear commercial or someone who’s used to spending time in a forest, and the bugs I brought from my parents' garden…well, I still have no clue why the fuck they didn’t scare her. 

“See?” She goes on. “That’s why I didn’t want to be your partner. You’re a judgemental asshole.”

My mouth falls open. Tara pivots and runs to rejoin our group, and I follow her. 

She called me an asshole. Barbie of all people. The queen of eye-rolls and snorts who walks down the college hallways as if she owns the building.

Her bouncing ponytail is right in front of me. It grazes my face as I reach her, and I grip her wrist. “Tara.”

“What?” She spins around and quirks an eyebrow. “What now? Ah, wait. Time to change partners? Well, guess what, your girlfriend hasn’t stopped glaring at me as if she thinks I’ll fuck you behind one of the bushes. So, you’re free to ask Dr. Garcia to pair you up with someone else again.”

“I didn’t ask him to. It was Elena, and you know it. Let me remind you I’ve been trying to arrange a study session with you for days, and you keep brushing me off.”

“Because I don’t want to be stuck alone with someone who thinks I’m dumb.”

She gulps. Her jaw trembles, and she looks away while I stay riveted to the spot, failing to understand what’s going on.

Is she hurt?

She doesn’t give a damn about anything and anyone. Why would the shit I say get to her?

I take a step forward. “Tara.”

“Leave me alone.”

She blinks once, twice, three times in quick succession, as if she’s trying not to cry. This is fucking ridiculous.

“I know you’re not dumb,” I say.

She groans, rubbing her palms over her face, and drops her hands before tilting her head up and looking skyward at the gray clouds.

“Who hurt you, Sebastian?”

I lean against the sturdy trunk of an oak tree and cross my arms. “What?”

“You heard me. Someone hurt you because happy people don’t lash out at others. They don’t judge others. They don’t act like cold, arrogant assholes who are only good for studying and suck at human interactions.”

“Judgemental much, Barbie?” I smirk. “Wasn’t that what you hated about me?”

“One of the things,” she mumbles.

“I don’t suck at human interactions.” I air-quote. “I have plenty of friends.”

“Like Elena?”

“We’re—“

“Yeah, I know.  Fuck buddies. The lie guys tell themselves not to complicate their drama-free lives with human emotions like guilt. Because admitting you use her would make you a bad person, and you try to convince yourself otherwise.”

What’s gotten into her? Is she an advocate for Elena’s rights now? 

“Ever heard of mutually beneficial arrangements, Barbie?”

Tara snorts. “You get her off, big deal. We don’t need a guy for that. Toys are just as good, Basti. But tell me, don’t you wonder why she talked to Dr. Garcia about me?”

“Because she’s —“

Jealous. And as much as I want to, I can’t deny Tara’s right. 

“In love with you,” she says. “So, next time you fuck her, think about the consequences.”

My temples throb. This makes no sense — this conversation, her telling me shit about myself as if I gave a damn about her opinion. All of it.  “What do you want from me?” I ask.

Barbie moves colorful leaves aside with her boot. “Nothing. Maybe some respect if we want to make it work. Fighting with you is exhausting.”

“Says the one who started nagging me out of the blue.”

“Someone hurt you, right? Someone you loved or cared about did a number on you.”

I push off the tree and cross the distance between us. My hand has a mind of its own because it grips Tara’s ponytail and wraps it around my wrist, tugging so she’d lift her chin and look at me.

Panic flits across her features as if she thinks I want to hurt her. She squeezes her eyes shut, and I release her hair. It’s smooth as silk, slipping between my fingers.

“Look at me.”

Her eyelids flutter open, and I stare into her irises for the first time. No, hurting her isn’t what I want. Not even close. 

“I’d never hurt a woman,” I say, my voice coming out thick.

“Not physically,” Tara whispers, stepping backward.

A leaf falls off a chestnut tree and lands between us. We both focus our gazes on it because looking at each other is weird, especially after I almost…

“Oh my God.” Tara's eyes flare. "Where’s everyone?”

How long have we been bickering? I pull my phone out of my pocket, and Tara searches for hers in her backpack. 

“No service,” we say at the same time.

Tara rubs her forehead. “How could we be so…”

“Stupid?” I wink. “See, it’s not only you.”

“You’re definitely an asshole.” She huffs. “What are we going to do?”

I shrug off my backpack and survey my surroundings. “We can sit on that log and eat something. Then we’ll continue walking until we catch up with everyone.”

Except I have no idea where we are, and the woods are endless. Getting lost is a given no matter what direction we choose. I keep that to myself and stroll to the fallen tree I’d spotted.

Tara and I sit side by side. She retrieves a sandwich from her backpack, and I unzip mine to get one for me, but there’s nothing. A vague memory of leaving it on the kitchen counter as I was searching for my wallet appears, and I clasp my hands behind my neck, growling.

“Let me guess.” Tara chuckles. “No food?”

“I left it at home.”

“See? It only proves my theory that guys are useless, and our species survived thanks to women. Here, take this.”

She hands me a sandwich like the one she’s eating. It’s not like the sad combo of bread, mayo, and ham I put together hastily this morning. It has grilled chicken and avocado and some sauce I bet is homemade.

“Fuck, it’s delicious,” I say, chewing. 

“I like cooking,” Tara says. “Be careful, that sounded like a compliment, Basti. Time to backtrack and tell me you didn’t mean it.”

I meant every word, and that she really thinks I’m the worst guy ever kind of…bugs me? Except why would it? 

“I meant it. Who taught you to cook?”

“Our housekeeper. " Tara wipes her mouth with a paper napkin. “And the chef of my father’s restaurant.”

I didn't expect that, and Tara must’ve noticed her words surprised me because she says, “My father owns a chain of restaurants, Basti.”

“So, that’s why you’re studying Business Management.”

Shit. She had no idea I knew. How the fuck will I justify knowing her schedule and her major?

Lucky for me, Tara is oblivious. A thermos materializes in her hand, and my eyes must’ve widened because she giggles, pouring hot coffee into a plastic cup. “Want some?”

“If there’s enough, yes.”

“We were going to spend the whole day in the woods. Of course, I thought about everything.”

Unlike me, because I was more worried about dodging Elena than getting ready for the trip. 

I take a sip from the cup Tara gave me. Even the coffee tastes great, and that it’s pitch black only makes it better.

“Not a latte,” I say under my breath.

“Wouldn’t want Elena to make me spill it again.”

“Again? What do you mean?”

Despite the question I asked, I suspect what she might refer to. I asked Tara for her notes at the cafeteria and commented on her coffee-stained shirt. She bolted out of there right afterward, and Elena called her a drama queen. What other shit did she do that I know nothing about?

Guilt washes over me. “I didn’t know,” I say to Tara.

“It’s okay. I just really think you should stop messing with her head. She’s into you, and she hates me because she sees me as a threat.”

“I never gave her false hopes,” I say. “And I never told her I wanted a relationship.”

Tara finishes her drink and puts everything away. “What you say and do might be different things.”

I have nothing to say to that. Because even though I tell her that I hate her, I've been restraining myself from pressing her up against a tree and kissing the fuck out of her ever since we stepped into the woods.

What? Where did that come from?
And what now?

See you in the next one.

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