Colorful leaves rustle in the wind that grows stronger by the minute. Although I'm used to spending time outdoors no matter the weather, unease fills my insides, and Bast's behavior is of no help. My last words hang in the crisp air between us, and he does nothing but sit and stare at me.

"What?" I huff.

He shrugs. "Thinking. They couldn't have gone too far, could they?"

"Dr. Garcia said there are several hiking trails. They could've chosen any."

Bast frowns. "True. I just don't want to wait till it gets dark. I'm gonna try something."

He hops off the log and shrugs off his jacket, leaving it by my side. When Bast looks up at the thick branches of a tree on our left, I jump to my feet. "No. Don't even think about it. If you fall and injure yourself—"

He laughs. "I won't. But if I do, remember I'm a premed student. I might've forgotten the food, but I have a first-aid kit."

"Are you for real?"

"Yeah." He scratches the back of his neck. "You never know. Someone might need something."

"Look at you, thinking about others."

Bast gives me a lopsided grin. "Right? I don't know what's gotten into me. Wish me luck."

Before I can process what's going on, he grips the sturdy trunk and places one of his feet on it. Bast is surprisingly flexible for someone this tall. It takes him little time to climb the century-old tree, and he stands on a thick branch, looking around.

"You don't really think you'd see them from there, do you?" I say, looking up at him.

"That's not why I'm here." He pulls the phone out of the pocket of his sweats and raises his arm. As he does, his hoodie lifts, revealing a sliver of abs.

He has the body of an athlete, sculpted and hard, and I hate that I notice.

"Here it is," Bast mutters, looking at his phone. "There's service here. I'll call Dr. Garcia."

I listen as he explains we stayed behind. When Bast hangs up, his phone vibrates with a text. 

"He sent me screenshots of their location," he says. "They aren't far."

I hand Bast his jacket when he's on the ground by my side.

"Over here," he says, pointing a hand ahead of us.

We advance along the narrow trail in silence, only broken by the crunch of dry leaves under our feet and the chirping of birds. I take several pictures, and Bast does the same. 

Half an hour later, we catch up with our class.

"See? I was right about teamwork. You two seem to get along now," Dr. Garcia tells Bast and me with a broad smile.

Both of us shrug, and we resume the hike, only that this time, we make sure to stay close to the rest.

"When can we meet?" Bast asks. "We'll have to complete today's assignment."

"After the Halloween party?"

"Fuck." He groans. "I forgot about it."

"Not much of a party animal, Basti?" I wink. "Don't tell me you plan to be the dude who shows up without a costume."

"For someone who said I'm a judgemental asshole, you're awfully...judgemental?"

"You don't seem to be the type to dress up," I say. "Prove me wrong."

Bast glances at me and refocuses on the leaf-covered path. "Brian and I will wear lab coats."

I fail to stifle a laugh. "Wow. Lab coats, as in...doctors? As in...medical school students?"

He rubs his forehead, chuckling. "Shut up."

A dry branch snaps behind us. I jump at the sound, and Bast furrows his brow, spinning around. 

"Elena," he says. "What's up? Are you lost?"

Has she been following us? The thought is ridiculous, except it's not. Not really. Not after her eavesdropping in the toilet.

"Where have you been?" She crosses her arms. "You two disappeared."

Bast smirks. "Just stayed behind to fuck. What did we miss?"

Her face reddens. She purses her lips and rushes to catch up with the rest of the group.

"That was unnecessary," I tell Bast. "She's—"

"Listen, Tara." He stops walking. "I was clear. That she chooses to ignore what I say isn't my fucking problem. Now come on; let's hurry before they forget us again."

♡♡♡

We get on the bus at six p.m. Everyone is too tired to even talk, and silence fills the vehicle. Without realizing how, I doze off.

When I open my eyes later, city lights flash behind the bus window. I bring my hand to my stiff neck, and my body freezes. 

My head is on Bast's shoulder. Did I spend the whole way like this?

I straighten, making sure to face away from him.

"We're almost there," he says. 

I clear my throat. "Good."

Bast shifts in his seat. "While you were sleeping, Dr. Garcia explained what we needed to do. I took notes and decided not to wake you up. Do you want to grab a bite and get the task done? It's not a lot, and I'm fucking starving."

I want to lie, but my stomach grumbles. Would having dinner together mean we're friends? Of course not. We're project partners, and Bast is right. It's better to complete the assignment before the party.

Taking a deep breath, I say, "Okay."

"Cool. You know what? I'm going to ask the driver to stop here."

Bast gets up and goes to the front of the bus. After he talks to Dr. Garcia and the driver, the bus stops, and I grab my backpack and Sebastian's. 

As I make my way to the exit, I make the mistake of looking at Elena, whose scowl tells me she's unhappy with the turn the events have taken.

I hand the backpack to Bast and get off the vehicle after him.

"I know a cool place," Bast says. "It shouldn't be too noisy to study."

We're on one of the streets downtown, where yellow and neon lights light up the facades. The sidewalk swarms with people going home from work or going out for dinner, and the irony of the situation isn't lost on me — I didn't think I'd ever go anywhere with Bast. What if it's a huge mistake? He could go back to being an asshole. Oxygen and beautiful scenery are a dangerous combo that makes you do dumb stuff, like sharing sandwiches and talking.

"It's right here." Bast slows next to a restaurant. The exterior of the building is unremarkable — it's the same red brick you see everywhere. The sign above the black door reads The Hideway, and as Bast pushes the heavy door open, a delicious aroma wafts from the kitchen. It's a mix of herbs and freshly baked bread that makes my mouth water. I inhale a lungful and step inside, casting a glance at what surrounds me.

The furniture is dark brown. Everything is made of wood — from the small square tables and dining chairs to the worn floorboards that creak under my feet. My attention drifts to the framed graphite sketches that cover the wall on the left, and I step closer to take a better look.

There's a weather-beaten lighthouse and several pictures of a stormy sea. My gaze skates over the designs, unable to decide which to focus on. All are amazing. Somber, especially the one of a lonely fishing boat left on the sand, and the one of an old house surrounded by the overgrown garden that reminds me of Mav's jungle he doesn't want to fix.

"Tara." Bast tugs at my sleeve. "Let's sit over there."

He leads me to a table in the corner. We hang our jackets on a coat rack and sit across from each other. A server approaches our table and lights the candle in the center of it.

The girl places two menus in front of us. The artist who drew the sketches must have designed them too. I study the small drawing of the city, and when I look up at the girl to ask her who the artist is, her eyes widen a fraction.

"Oh my God, you're Tara—"

I cringe. Please, not my last name. 

"Yeah." I rush to say. "I love this place. And the sketches."

The brunette grins. "And I love your blog. All my friends do. They won't believe it when I tell them I saw you. You're just as gorgeous in person."

She's nice, but instead of being pleased by the compliment, I shrink in my seat and accept her words with a slight nod. The guy watching me is to blame. He already thinks I'm an airhead, and knowing I have a fashion blog will only give him more reasons to judge me.

Why am I suddenly like this? I'm proud of what I achieved and I want to roll my eyes at my behavior.

"More pictures will be up tomorrow," I tell the girl. "I'm glad you like them."

She beams. "Can't wait."

"We'll take mushroom cream soup and garlic bread," Bast says after a momentary pause. "If that's okay."

He looks at me, and I nod. Soups are perfect for cool weather, and they've always been my comfort food.

The server retreats to the kitchen, and Bast tilts his head to the side. "So, a blog. Fashion?"

I trace the edge of the linen napkin with my manicured nail. "Yeah. What else?"

"Could be anything," Sebastian says. "And before we fight over something stupid again, I didn't ask to be a judgmental asshole. Creative stuff is cool, and it takes lots of time."

"Looks like my words got to you, Basti." I grin, leaning back. 

A dimple appears on Bast's cheek as he smiles. His hazel eyes look beautiful in the candlelight.

Whoa.

I sit straighter, gripping the table. 

"What's wrong?" Bast smirks. "Worried about my feelings? You should know I have none by now. No heart, either. No soul."

"You could be a vampire for Halloween."

"I love biting. Might as well."

My mouth falls open. 

"Jesus. Look at your face." Laughter spouts from Bast's mouth, and the smug bastard folds his arms behind his head.

I'm about to hurl a napkin at him when the same girl places some garlic bread and two bowls with steaming soup in front of us. 

We dig in right away. When we finish eating, Bast orders coffee and grabs his notebook. I get mine, and for the first time, we work on the task the way partners should.

I don't want him to, but Sebastian pays the check, saying he invited me.

His friendliness confuses me. I'm not naïve enough to believe he changed his opinion about me this fast. It doesn't happen this way in real life. 

As we step outside into the cold, Bast zips up his parka. "Are you going home?"

"Yeah. My car's on campus."

"Mine too. We can share a cab and pick the cars  up tomorrow. It's Saturday."

The idea of going home instead of visiting the deserted campus is too tempting to refuse. Plus, I know the car is safe.

"I'm paying," I tell Sebastian. "Because you paid for dinner."

"Okay."

We keep quiet on the drive to our neighborhood. Ironically, we don't live that far from each other. When the car stops next to my building, Sebastian gets out of the Ford with me.

"Your building is farther," I say.

He shoves his hands in the pockets of his jacket. "I'll walk home. Need to clear my head."

I'm not sure I was supposed to hear the last bit, so I pretend I didn't.

"Bye," I say when we're by the front door of my apartment complex.

"See you," Bast says.

He waits until I get inside. It pleases me, even though I know it shouldn't.