*Author's note * Hey guys! Remember me? lol. I know it's been a lonnngggg time since I've updated but since Before is being published and I technically have to abide by (some) rules from publishers, I had to wait. (My publisher doesn't have too many rules and they love Wattpad, they are awesome but I had to wait closer to release date to update)

I've missed updating so much and I will be updating a lot more now that we are in November and the published book is out Dec 8 in US & UK. Some of the international dates have been announced as well! I'm going to be traveling so much again next year, I can't wait! I'll be going to some places I've been before and some new places! I can't wait. Where do you live?

So anyway, long lecture over! Here's chapter 9! Chapter 10 will be updated Saturday! <3

....

By the time I get to campus, the caffeine has made its way through my body, sharpening my sight and helping me forget the fucked up dream that I had. Why was she there? Why would I dream about Tessa? It wasn't even Tessa as she is now, it was a version of young Tessa, her cheeks rounded and her eyes bright and comforting with premature maturity. It was odd, so fucking weird really, and I didn't like it one bit.

I loved the sleep though. I loved being able to sleep for once in my fucking life and today I feel. Well, rested? Hell, calm even.

I'm inside the Literature Hall and seated in the front row, next to two empty seats. I stare to the front of the room, waiting for class to start. My eyes keep darting to the door behind me, waiting.

Less than five minutes later, Tessa and Landon enter the room. She's smiling, focusing only on Landon. Does she like him? Holy shit, she fucking likes him!

Why didn't I think of this before? They like each other.

I watch her closely as she looks down at her feet before meeting his eyes again. He nods, says something and she smiles slightly. I look at her eyes, those telling eyes, and note the way she looks at him. She isn't looking at him the way she looks at me and he isn't looking at her the way he should be if he wants her to like him.

"Today will be our last day on Pride and Prejudice," the professor tells us. "I hope you all have enjoyed it, and since you've all read the ending, it feels fitting to base today's discussion on Austen's use of foreshadowing. Let me ask: as a reader, did you expect her and Darcy to become a couple in the end?"

Tessa's hand shoots up instantly and I lean back in my seat. She never fails to be a know-it-all.

"Miss Young," he calls on her and I watch her face light up. She really gets off on making other people happy or pleased by her.

I shut off my inner monologue and patiently await her rant on good ol' P and P. If she's a bright as I think she is, this should be interesting.

"Well, the first time I read the novel, I was on the edge of my seat about whether they would end up together. Even now- and I have read it at least ten times- I still feel anxious during the beginning of their relationship. Mr. Darcy is so cruel and says hateful things about Elizabeth and her family that I never know if she can forgive him, let alone love him." The smile on Tessa's face is bright when she finishes and her hands neatly fold together on top of her book. She waits expectantly for the professor to pat her on the head and tell her what a wonderful little pupil she is.

I'm going to throw a wrench into that.

Speak Hardin.

My voice nudges at the back of my throat. All it will take is a few words. My mum's reminder, "just breathe, Hardin. You can talk in front of others," she would always tell me not to worry. "A lot of people have social anxiety., Hardin. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

But me, I don't have social anxiety. I just don't like people.

"That's a load," my voice is loud, clearing the already silent space.

"Mr. Scott? Would you like to add something?" the professor asks, clearly surprised by my participation.

"Sure," I lean forward in my seat. Tessa's face is a blank mask, she's shocked but hiding it well. "I said that's a load. Women want what they can't have. Mr. Darcy's rude attitude is what drew Elizabeth to him, so it was obvious they would end up together," I finish. I look down and start to pick at the torn, pink skin surrounding my fingernails.

"That isn't true, about women wanting what the can't have. Mr. Darcy was only mean to her because he was too proud to admit he loved her. Once he stopped his hateful act, she saw that he really loved her," Tessa passionately finishes with a shaking hand slapping against her desk. I glance around to the room full of eyes blinking back at us. My friend Dan's sister is sitting in the front row, smiling widely at me.

I can feel the eyes of my fellow students probing into my skin. "If he loved her he wouldn't have been mean to her. The only reason he even ended up asking for her hand in marriage was because she wouldn't stop throwing herself at him," I say.

Did Elizabeth throw herself at Darcy? No, the exact opposite. Does Tessa throw herself at me? No, again, the exact opposite.

"She did not throw herself at him! He manipulated her into thinking he was kind and took advantage of her weakness!"

"He manipulated her? Try again, she is . . ." I mess up my speech. "I mean, she was so bored with her boring life that she had to find excitement somewhere--so she certainly was throwing herself at him!" I shout back, my bruised hands are gripping the corner of the old desk.

"Well, maybe if he wasn't such a manwhore he could have stopped it after the first time instead of showing up to her room!" By the time I finish, I know everyone in the room has caught on to our little show. "Live Reading" should have been written on a sign hung in the hall outside of the room.

Manwhore?

I may have slept my way around this campus, made more mistakes than she has, and forgotten half of it, but at least I'm not a prissy, judgmental snob. Imagine if I called her what she called me?

"Okay, lively discussion. I think that's probably enough on that topic for today . . ." the professor looks panicked, like our outburst has caused a great disruption to his perfectly planned syllabus.

Tessa grabs her bag, clutches it to her chest and rushes toward the exit of the room. Landon stays in his seat, unsure what to do in any type of stressful situation. Maybe because his life has been so perfect. His mum probably made him freshly baked muffins sprinkled with love every morning before school.

I fed myself stale cheerios and had to smell the inside of a milk carton to check if the milk was expired or not.

Tessa leaves the room and I decide to follow her. She doesn't get to run from every conflict she creates. I can tell she's used to that. Having her way all the fucking time.

"You don't get to run this time, Theresa!" I call to her. She keeps moving and I run to catch up to her. Just as she turns the corner, I grab ahold of her arm to stop her. She jerks away and I let go of the light grip.

"Why do you always touch me like that? Grab my arm again and I will slap you!" Her tone is furious and her voice is so loud.

I reach for her arm again. She doesn't flinch away.

"What do you want, Hardin? To tell me how desperate I am? To laugh at me for letting you get to me again? I am so sick of this game with you—" She's stomping her foot along with her words and her hands are swirling in the air like always. It humors me the way she talks with her hands.

She's still going on and on. "I won't play it any longer. I have a boyfriend and you are a terrible person. You really should see a doctor and get some medication for your mood swings! I can't keep up with you. One second you're nice then you're hateful. I want nothing to do with you, so do yourself a favor and find another girl to play your games, because I'm done!" Her eyes are shining, with anger or sadness, I'm not sure, and I still elicit an emotional response from her.

"I really do bring out the worst in you, don't I?" My fingers fidget with a small burn hole along the bottom hem of my black t-shirt.

"I am not trying to play games with you." I try to convince her.

"Then what are you doing--because your mood swings give me a headache." Tessa rubs her temples with her fingertips and I reach for her arms, grasping them gently to get her attention. She doesn't resist so I lead her into the small alleyway between the two buildings we're in front of. No one to hear our conversation, no one to pressure her to put on her 'perfect girl' face.

I look down at her, admiring the stillness of her. She's appearing so calm, so neutral even given the close proximity of our bodies. I see a kink in her armor when her eyes meet mine and she gulps, her lips shaking.

"Tess, I . . . I don't know what I am doing. You kissed me first, remember?" I refresh her memory.

"Yeah . . . I was drunk, remember? And you kissed me first yesterday."

"Yeah . . . You didn't stop me." I pause for a beat, watching the curiousity build in her eyes. " It must be exhausting,"

"What must be exhausting?" She asks, her chin titled up.

"Acting like you don't want me when I know you do," I purposely step closer, making her back touch the wall behind her.

"What? I do not want you. I have a boyfriend." She's reaching far to pretend to have a natural tone.

"A boyfriend that you're bored with. Admit it, Tess. Not to me, but to yourself. You're bored with him." I draw each word out as slowly as possible, drawing each breath closer and closer to her face. Her eyes are drawn to my mouth, of course they are. "Has he ever made you feel the way I do?" I lay the last line on thick, genuinely curious if he has.

"W-What? Of course he has," her voice is shaky. I'm not buying it.

"No. . he hasn't. I can tell that you've never been touched . . .really touched."

Her lips are parted now, I can practically hear her heart thumping out of her chest. I wonder how I look through her eyes. Can she see that her shaky breaths and plump lips are making me crazy. Is there something in my eyes that tells her I really want to wrap her hair around my fist, turn her head to me, and kiss her?

"That's none of your business." She's defensive. She must not be able to tell. Once you wear a mask for so long, it's nearly impossible to take it off.

"You have no idea how good I can make you feel," I step closer. Her back touches the wall again and she turns the other way to gain some distance from me. She's breathing hard now, clearly affected by me. Finally.

"Really, you don't have to admit it. I can tell." I corner her again.

"Your pulse has quickened hasn't it? Your mouth is dry, you have that feeling . . . down there. Don't you, Theresa?" She sucks in a sharp breath and tries to look away from me but fails miserably.

"You're wrong."

"I'm never wrong," I smile. She hesitates, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "Not about this." Tessa takes a breath and I know I'm in for it.

"Why do you keep saying I throw myself at you if you're the one cornering me now?"

"Because you made the first move on me. Don't get me wrong. I was as surprised as you were." I laugh.

"I was drunk and had a long night--as you already know. I was confused because you were being nice to me, well, your version of being nice." Tessa moves past me and sits down on the concrete curb. I look around to see if anyone is watching us, but no one seems to notice us at all.

"I'm not that mean to you." I explain. I'm not, truly. If anything, I'm nicer to her than most.

"Yea, you are. You go out of your way to be mean to me. Not just me, but everyone. It just seems like you are extra hard on me." She complains.

"That's just not true. I am no meaner to you than I am to the rest of the general population,"

Tessa jumps to her feet, "I don't know why I keep wasting my time!" She's going to leave. I don't want her to leave, do I?

No. I don't think I do.

"Hey, I'm sorry. Just come back over here," I persuade. She stands up and I sit down on the curb close to where she was sitting.

"Sit," I pat the ground next to me. She huffs a little and sits down next to me. She crosses her legs and sighs.

"You're sitting awfully far away," I tease her. She grants me an eye roll. "You don't trust me?" Of course she doesn't, but she wants to.

Why else would she be sitting here?

"No, of course I don't. Why would I?" I inch back. I don't trust her either but she doesn't need to be so quick about it. She obviously has some type of draw to me otherwise she wouldn't be having this conversation with me.

"Can we just agree to either stay away from each other, or be friends? I don't have it in me to keep fighting with you." I don't feel like we fight a lot, we just talk more than either of us expected.

We've both gotten used to it. It would be strange to think of not seeing Tessa again. I've gotten used to her sassy mouth and the way her eyes give away how mad she is. "I don't want to stay away from you," I admit. I hate that I have to be on my best behavior with her. I'm expected to tell her how I feel, to be more open than I'm comfortable with.

"I mean . . . I don't think we can stay away from each other, with one of my best friends being your roommate and all. So I suppose we should try to be friends."

"Okay, so friends?" She asks, her voice mimicking someone making a business deal.

Friends? Friends who fuck, maybe? Fucking friends. "Friends," I push my hand between us for her to shake. My smile is cunning, full on charming. She catches on and shakes her head at me.

"Not friends with benefits."

I reach up to play with the metal ring above my eye. "What makes you say that?"

"Like you don't know. Steph already told me."

About what? About my days of messing around with Steph. She was okay, sort of interesting to be around. She has her issues like the rest of us, but she carried them on her back, hiding them from the world, unlike Molly and myself.

"What, about me and her?" I wonder what the redhead told Tessa about our time together. I feel like she probably exaggerated when she told the tale of our escapades.

"You and her, and you and every other girl."

"Well, me and Steph . . . that was fun." I smile at Tessa and she looks away.

"And yeah, I have girls that I fuck. But why would that concern you, friend?" I imagine Tessa as one of those girls, spread out beneath me, her mouth open in pleasure. She closes her eyes and takes a breath. I imagine stealing her breath as she comes from my fingers and my mouth at the same time. I'm sure she's never had someone teasing her clit with their tongue while slowly sliding-"

"It doesn't," Tessa interrupts, "I just don't want you to think that I will be one of those girls." She shoves me, furthering the fantasy going on in my mind.

"Aww.. are you jealous Theresa?" A small part of me urges her to be.

"No, absolutely not. I feel sorry for the girls," Tessa shakes her head and I laugh. She wouldn't feel sorry for anyone, she would only feel pleasure, intense amounts of pleasure that she can't even imagine.

"Oh, you shouldn't," I can't stop thinking about her naked body. I need to see what she's hiding under those baggy clothes. She wouldn't know what to do with herself if I got my hands on her. "They enjoy it, trust me."

"Okay, okay. I get it. Can we please just change the subject?" Tessa closes her eyes again and tilts her head back. She groans before she says, "so will you try to be nicer to me?"

"Sure. Will you try not to be so uptight and bitchy all the time?" I ask her.

"I'm not bitchy; you're just obnoxious." We both laugh as she finishes her statement. Her laugh is soft, floating around me. I feel fluffy, in a weird but nice way.

Fluffy? Really Hardin?

I need to get my shit together and get this Friendship Train on the right track.

I lean a little closer to my new friend. "Look at us, two friends."

Tessa shrinks back and stands to her feet. Her hands wipe at her skirt and I backtrack, thinking about taking that skirt off. "That skirt really is dreadful Tess. If we're going to be friends you need to not wear that anymore." It's not that bad, but it's certainly not good.

Tessa's eyes flash with embarrassment and I smile to ease it. I didn't mean it as an insult. I was only teasing her. Really, if she wants to wear unflattering clothing, more power to her. I wear the same few pair of black jeans and stained t-shirts.

Tessa's phone begins to vibrate and she pulls the phone out of her bag. "I need to get back and study," she announces. I glance at the ancient clunk of plastic in her hand. Is that a Nokia?

"You set an alarm to study?" I ask her. I thought everyone had a touch screen phone by now, apparently not.

"I set an alarm for a lot of things; it's just something I do." She shrugs. This behavior makes her shy, as if she should be embarrassed that she does this. Why would she think that? Someone in her life must make her feel like she needs to justify her strange behavior. Her mum, I'm sure. The woman seems anal as hell. Tessa's mum probably had an alarm set for Tessa to piss as controlling as the woman seems.

"We should do something fun tomorrow after class," I offer her. I want to spend time with her. I need to.

She looks at me, her eyebrows pushing together in confusion.

"I don't think my idea of fun is the same as yours," she's wary, I can tell. My idea of fun is definitely different than hers. Her idea of fun would be to study together, piles of notes and heavy textbooks laying out on the bed between us.

My idea of fun is much different. My idea of fun is sitting on the bed, my back against a headboard while Tessa wraps her mouth around my cock. I would love to add a cold glass of whiskey, one ice cube floating in the dark liquid, clinging against the glass and she draws me deeper into her mouth.

I'm not supposed to be drinking though, so I suppose I'll take the blow-job minus the whiskey. Instead of telling her this I say, "Well, we'll only sacrifice a few cats, burn down a few buildings . . ." Tessa giggles and I can't help but smile back at her. A couple walks by us, holding hands as they laugh at the same lame joke. I didn't exactly catch what they were saying, but I know it's lame because they are wearing matching striped socks. Subtly shoving their relationship into innocent passerby's faces. It's bullshit really. Tessa doesn't even seem to notice them, she's staring down at the concrete.

"Really, though, you could use some fun, and since we are new friends, we should do something fun."

Before Tessa can refuse me, I turn my back to her. "Good, I'm glad you're onboard. See you tomorrow." When I cross the street, I look back to see her sitting on the curb. She didn't try to refuse me, she agreed to see me tomorrow and now I don't know what the fuck I'm going to do because I had planned on her denying me a few times before I had to actually plan a date thing with her.