Every single classroom at uni differed from the previous, perhaps so students would never get lost. They all comprised the same gigantic rooms with a row of tables on each level of the stair-like floor, all turned to the teacher's desk and dark green chalkboards.

This one, in particular, wasn't very wide, but larger. All desks were a faded oak brown with letters painted and carved by students through the years. Same yellow stained stone walls, different furniture.

The French teacher, forever bound to that room, was always early, and resumed to write on the chalkboard everything they would need for that lesson.

"Oh, Mr Wittymore!" He called as soon as his eyes set on the first student arriving. One that had barely slept through the night. "I've been wanting to talk to you."

He'd memorised his face the moment he handed back his test. From the very first day, he assessed everyone's abilities on the subject, and though everyone did poorly, there was one student who didn't.

"It's Whittmore, sir." Andrew corrected, fighting the urge to yawn in front of his teacher.

It had been a rough night. His best friend had called in the middle of the night, no respect for the different time zones, and forced him to hear about all his personal problems as if Andrew had nothing better to do.

"You're right, Jace." He repeated every time he paused, not even processing what he was hearing.

One hour of his night had been lost because he couldn't just hang up on his friend, and the rest because after that he could no longer sleep.

"You got every single question of the test right." His teacher said. "Of all two hundred students in this class, you were the only one to score above sixty. This is not an introductory class for you, is it?"

Andrew shook his head. It was his fifth year of learning the language, but he was sure it wouldn't be the same to keep learning it from a language that wasn't his mother tongue.

"Have you considered changing to a more advanced class?"

His eyes wandered to the spot in the back where Alice sat down. Even if he switched, they'd still be together plenty of time, plus he wouldn't have to be with Nicole. They didn't talk to each other, and she wasn't the cold-hearted girl he had met in the beginning, but he wouldn't mind being far away from her judging stare.

"I'll have to think about it." He told him. "But thank you for the suggestion."

He started his walk up the stairs to his chair at the last table of the room, in front of the dirty windows that covered the entire back wall. What he didn't know was that just behind him was a girl who he couldn't hear because of the carpet muffling the sound of her heels.

"Good morning, Witty." she smiled, sitting at the table as soon as he sat down.

"Witty?" He scrunched his brows. "Were you listening to the conversation?"

She laughed, throwing her bag on the seat at his left. It was some kind of provocation, the way she was sitting in front of him with one foot on each side of his chair.

"Maybe." She shrugged. "I hear a lot of things."

"You mean you spy? Like a stalker?"

Nicole's smile was as daring as her posture, and he knew no matter what he could say to make her back off, she wouldn't. When he looked at her face, she could only see the kleptomaniac bartender now. It wasn't fair, but he wondered how things had ended between them.

"I hear what the wind tells me." She joked. "Do you know what it told me yesterday?"

He didn't answer, but gawked at her instead, waiting for an answer.

"It told me what you said about me. Do you really think I'm hot?"

They were almost nose to nose, eyes diving into each other's. Andrew peered at the professor at the bottom, but he was staring at the board. He wasn't enjoying the proximity with his girlfriend's friend.

"I never said that."

"Liar." she whispered, easing herself closer to him. "I know you did."

He swallowed. "Fine, maybe I did. What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

At the confession, she pushed herself back, legs crossed in front of her. Her smile was gone, and it was replaced by a blank expression. Even with all the students coming in, she didn't bother sitting properly in her own chair.

"Then we have a problem. If you think you can play with Alice... "

"I'm not." He cut her off. "I like Alice and I can assure you I have no intentions towards you. What I said was a first impression, but if you want to know what I thought of you when I met you, then know you are an annoying bitch and you need to back the fuck off."

She didn't look shocked, but then again, she looked hollow.

"So you hate me?"

Does that even matter to you? He thought.

"I don't hate you, but I don't like you either."

She smiled before sliding into her chair. "Likewise."

Alice was already halfway up the stairs, waving at them.

"So what the hell did you want with all this?" He asked her.

Nicole only shrugged. "I don't want to see my friend get hurt. Trust me, if you are the reason for her tears, I'll make your life a living hell."

He didn't take her seriously. How could he? She looked like a petty girl making empty threats.

Alice sat beside Andrew, away from Nicole, and pecked him on the lips. She took her notebook out and closed the space between their chairs, happy to be with him.

"How was Saturday night?" She asked.

"It was fun." He didn't need to lie. Even if Miguel had betrayed him. He knew his loyalty was still elsewhere, but he ought to bring him to his side.

"And I see you were talking to Nicole." She noted. "I'm so glad you're getting along with all of them."

He smiled. "Yeah, me too."

Now it was a lie, but he promised himself that it wouldn't be for much longer. He would become a part of the group for the sake of Alice.

"Look, do you want to come over later? We could watch a movie."

She smiled. They were still a very fragile couple, and she was glad they were getting more comfortable with each other.

"I'd love that."

🖤🤍🖤

The old Whittmore mansion was a two-story house with a large front yard covered in dying grass and unwanted weeds. A stone pavement crossed the now yellowish plants to a large door in the middle of the dirty white walls, splitting in two others that surrounded the house.

Alice felt the urge to explore, but as that would be just rude, even if she was stunned by the beautiful house, she just rang the bell. Maybe Andrew would like to give her a tour of the place.

Since very little, Alice had a fascination for labyrinths and mystery houses. Her dad used to take her and Isabel to the horror fair when she was only five, and though she was shaking in fear every time, the memory of her father holding her tight was always a happy one.

She pushed those thoughts back as the door slid open to show Andrew in a dark hall. He let her in and helped her hang the coat on the hanger beside the door. His hand on her back guided her to the living room, where they'd be watching the movie.

"I'll be right back." He said. "I'm just finishing the popcorn."

He's making the popcorn himself? She was surprised but also impressed at the thought.

What Alice didn't know was that inside the microwave was a bag of corn bought in the market with all instructions.

She made herself at home, running her hands through the furniture and looking at old pictures that should've been dusty. Andrew's living room was like the ones she saw in renovating TV shows during the revelation. Although his entire house had some dark aura, the lighting wasn't the problem. The back of the room was covered in windows, letting the sun flash inside, but the cloudy day ruined the effect.

One wall, the same where a chest of drawers lay against, had three frames of a family. The first one was a picture of a baby boy sat on a five-year-old girl's lap. The second was a couple in their early thirties dressed in a fancy outfit and the third was the four of them in the front yard of the house.

"Those are my parents." Andrew's voice made Alice jump back.

He stood at the entry with a bowl of popcorn in hand. She glanced again at the pictures.

"The house was so full of life." She mumbled, noticing how the garden blossomed behind them. It was nothing like the abandoned yard she had walked through just minutes ago.

On top of the furniture was also a long row of frames and family pictures, but Alice's eyes were caught by one in specific.

"My mom loves having pictures all around the house. You should see the house in New York. There's not a square of the wall that hasn't a photo in it."

She grabbed the picture in the golden frame and waved it at him.

"Who's this?" Her voice was shaky, and he frowned at it.

"That's Abby."

"Abby?" she repeated, looking at the picture of the two teenagers in a tight hug. Abby's lips were glued to his cheek as he smiled. "Is that your ex-girlfriend? Why do you still have a picture of your ex-girlfriend?"

Andrew stared at her in silence. He had to blink a few times before he could muster a proper answer.

Is she crazy? He questioned.

"That's my sister!" He answered. "Why would I still have a picture with a girlfriend from eighth grade?"

He never even had a girlfriend at that age. The concept disgusted him more than anything. At that age, all he wanted was to play video games with his friends, with no girls in sight, if possible.

"Well, you just came back. There are probably a lot of pictures from years ago and the first thing you should've done was taking them down."

"But that's my sister, Ali! Can't you see?" He was losing his cool. He started pointing at different portraits. "Here. Here. Here... That's all Abby, not some ex. Why are you being so paranoid?"

"Because you never told me you had a sister!"

Maybe it was Nicole's influence and everything she whispered in her ear, but she was noticing the amount of things she didn't know about him. Maybe it was really too soon, and she rushed for no reason. They could have met each other slowly before making such a big decision.

"You never told me you were rich! Look at this mansion. It's enormous!" She looked at the huge TV, at the grey sofa big enough for ten, at everything in the room. "What else are you hiding from me?"

"Alice..." He started.

"Don't." She cut him off, tears building in her eyes. "I need time to think."

She turned her back to him and left the residence as he gawked at her.

Andrew pressed his head against the wall, still holding the bowl of popcorn in his hands. He was not expecting that outcome. There was still so much he hadn't told her and wasn't planning to tell so soon, yet she reacted so badly with such tiny details.

"You're not supposed to be complicated."

Sup?

And here I go, still making Nicole a bitch as if you guys won't abandon this just because the caharacters all suck. Now Alice is a bitch too. An I'll lose all my readers.

You know, originally the whole 'I don't hate but I don't like you' conversation went the exact opposite. I wasn't even supposed to put it here but once I started writing it showed up by itself. I'm pretty sure Andrew was the one to ask Nicole why all the hate and ect ect.

In case I haven't already mention, this is a prequel for Sugarless in Stuck Inside, a spin-off I wrote for Blueberry Milkshake but ended up conected to this. You can find it in my profile so pls read it too. Not now cuz spoilers. It used to have a lot of Easter Eggs but now I don't know if I'm keeping everything I used to have.

Thank you for reading ;)