Rarely, if ever, does Ro say something she regrets. Sure, she thinks if she were more sensible she might regret most things she says, but as it stands, she doesn't. Which is why at dinner, when she and Marcellus are arguing about which branch of engineering pulls off the best prank at the end of the year, she didn't initially have any regrets. That is until she said that anyone in her computer engineering could beat anyone in mechanical engineering at any task. That is, until she agreed to prove her point before asking what game he had in mind.

The problem didn't sink in until Marcellus pulled out the shot glasses in the lounge.

After doing three shots in as many minutes, and the world started spinning, Marcellus could see the glossy look on Ro's face. If he weren't sure it would be his problem later, he might not care. Marcellus is not the kind of man to give up easily. He recognizes that Ro isn't that kind of person either.

That is how the pair of them end up together on the sofas playing truth or drink. He figured it was fair to give Ro an out. He didn't account for the fact that Ro's sense of shame is much weaker than her strive for glory. Now, Marcellus is just as drunk as her.

"If you had to have a threesome with Maverick and Moonie or with Elodie and Darlington who would you pick?"

Marcellus' eyes wide, "what kind of fucking question is that?"

"If you can't pick, you have to drink," Ro hiccups at the end of her sentence.

Marcellus just stares at her, "that's such a weird question."

"It's effective," Ro answers. She's gotten him to drink when asking about the details about his probation, about what kind of porn he watches, and about his relationship with his parents. For someone as chill and go with the flow as Marcellus, he's rather cagey under pressure.

"Who would you pick?" Marcellus counters, taking a drink.

"Easy," she responds. "Elodie and Darlington. They are both hot, and hate each other, so it'd be tolerable. Moonie and Maverick are too lovey dovey. It'd be so awkward."

"Darlington isn't hot," Marcellus stumbles.

"You aren't allowed to lie," Ro grabs an empty red solo cup from beside her and chucks it at him.

Marcellus manages to bat it away. He can't imagine the Ro he knew before the snow in asking that kind of question, and he can't imagine how the Ro he knew is actually more pleasant than she initially seemed. She's not as bad as other people might think.

"We are sexually harassing our coworkers."

"Is that part of the terms of your probation?" when Marcellus doesn't answer, she rolls her eyes. "Come on, we are quasi-coworkers. Outside of staff meetings and a few events a month, when are we interacting as coworkers? We're somewhere between roommates, coworkers, friends, and survivors on a desert island."

Marcellus doesn't argue with her.

"Fine, if you had to sleep with one of the other RAs, who would you pick?"

Ro thinks for a second. That question is a bit more complicated for her than Marcellus. She'd pick him if she didn't get a vaguely transphobic vibe from him. He's bisexual, she's gathered from this conversation, but she doesn't know if he's even clocked her.

"Jerry."

"Jerry?" Marcellus asks. He picks up his glass and chugs it as if the alcohol has a high enough percentage to clean the wound he's got from such a suggestion.

"Yeah," Ro shrugs, "he's handsome in a sort of grunge way, and he's actually fun and clever if you get to know him. Moonie is too cutesy, same with Maverick. Tempest and Galilee are too repressed. Darlington is objectively attractive and objectively annoying. Benedict is an option, but I think he'd make it weird after. Callie and I are too good of friends. Jerry is handsome, he's mysterious, and he wouldn't make it weird."

Marcellus shakes his head, "what about Elodie?"

Ro pauses, "Elodie could work."

Marcellus tries not to nod. Elodie definitely does work.

~~~

Elodie puts on her big girl pants. She's an abolitionist and a restorative justice advocate. If anyone should know the importance of an apology and be able to hand one over, it's Elodie. She's got to do it.

So, she knocks on Darlington's door.

Darlington isn't expecting anyone, but he isn't expecting Elodie certainly. He'd expect his Dad, a rescue team, or Santa Claus showing up at his door before he'd expect her. Darlington just stares, not able to answer.

Elodie sighs, "do you have alcohol?"

"Pardon?" he says.

Elodie rolls her eyes. Of course he says pardon. A rich man to his core, she is sure he has the kind of parents who disciplined him for saying what in response to a question. He moves aside just enough that she walks into his room, immaculate as always. She sits on his desk, grabbing his bottle of liquor. She takes a swig, before setting it down.

"Is there something bad going on?" Darlington asks.

"Not that you need to worry about," Elodie coughs, before looking at him. The liquid courage hasn't set in, but she convinces herself that the placebo effect will be enough. "It was shitty of me to ghost you.

Darlington steps back, peering her down. Months ago, or even weeks ago, that sentence would have inflated him with some sense of power. Yes, he is desirable. Darlington knows he is hot, and wealthy, and formal, and the guy that every parent would want their daughter to bring home. He doesn't feel proud though. It's somewhat embarrassing.

"You don't have to worry about it," he says. "I figured you have something going on."

Those words, from anyone's mouth but Darlington, would shatter her. Yes, Elodie has everything going on. Her Dad's in jail, her brothers aren't coming, Maverick isn't talking to her, and she seems to finally see how her distance is affecting others. It's Darlington though, and so she takes another swig of her drink.

~~~

Hiding out in Callie's bedroom, Moonie is sitting cross-legged on Callie's bed, with a fuzzy pillow in their lap. Callie is sitting at the other end. She has a tea in her hands, sipping on it to keep warm. Only now, getting to the bottom of the cup, has Moonie finished explaining the Darlington and Maverick drama.

"Wow," Callie manages, struggling to adjust.

"Yeah," Moonie says. "I'm going to stop by his room tonight once he should be sleeping. I'll camp outside if I have to."

"Moons," Callie says, because there is a line between romantic and creepy that Moonie would be using as a jump rope if they did such a thing.

"I'm at my wits end!" Moonie cries out.

They feel that way. No amount of makeovers from Callie or slumber parties can fix that problem. In the face of adversity, a cheery smile is just as effective as a shield, and Moonie needs to start smiling again. Two days without Maverick is longer than two days without water, or two days without the sun, or two days without their younger sister during the holidays.

It sucks, but Callie tries to resolve that in her head. Moonie, her pseudo-sister Moonie, wants to be with Maverick more than anything. It's just one more thing that a family member gets to have that Callie can't. Worse, Callie doesn't have the right to feel like it's been stolen. Maverick is a person and not something to be bartered and traded. Still, she didn't want the money her parents gave her siblings. Well, she did, but only because the money was an extent which showed how much they loved her siblings. Callie gets nothing.

"What about you?" Moonie cocks their head to the side.

They would ask explicitly about Darlington if they hadn't just told Callie that Darlington likes them. Moonie has noticed their quips and jeers are a bit more pointed than usual, in a way that Callie and Darlington can pretend forever means that they hate each other, but Moonie isn't sure. The two of them together are the picture-perfect couple, with rich families and carefully crafted outfits, with sharp wits and majors their parents' judge.

"Nothing really," Callie offers.

She traces her knuckles with her fingers. Her hands are well moisturized and her nails are manicured. They'd look different than Galilee's if Callie drew them. Callie can draw in a photo realistic style even if it takes hours. She could spend hours drawing Galilee's hands, bandage or wound exposed.

Moonie's eyes beam, "what's that look?"

"What look?" Callie asks.

"I see it," Moonie reaches forward. They grab Callie's face, squeezing her cheeks as they peer into her eyes. "You like someone."

Callie feels herself go quiet. Moonie knows about Maverick. Or, knows about someone, but Callie cannot break Moonie's heart by saying the truth.

"No," Callie corrects.

Moonie lets go, of Callie's face but not of the idea. They are about to turn the conversation when there is a knock on the door. Callie races over to open it, and Tempest is on the other side, smiling.

"Hey," Tempest smiles.

Callie opens the door wide enough that Tempest can also seem Moonie. They both look in much better spirits than this morning. The Lord works in mysterious ways, Tempest observes. She had come to cheer up Callie, to make her take a break like Callie did twice during exams when Tempest was up too late at night.

"Oh good," Tempest smiles. "You're both here. I wanted your help with some Christmas Eve stuff. You're good at art, Callie, and Moonie you're good at party planning and stuff, so I wanted you both to help me do something nice tomorrow as a set up. Since, you know, most people aren't thrilled to stay back."

"Ooh yes!" Moonie grins widely. "I'm so excited! We can make it better for so many people. I can try to put together something nice for everyone. No cameras for Galilee of course."

"She loves photography though?" Callie furrows her brow.

Tempest nods, "yeah, but with the family vlogging stuff, it might be nice for her to unplug."

"Yes!" Moonie agrees. "We can maybe try to organize another outdoor trip if the snow is calmer since Benedict loves to be outside, and we can play video games for Jerry and Marcellus, and maybe a chess tournament for Ro and-"

"Wait," Callie manages to interrupt. "What do you mean, family vlogging?"

~~~

With Jerry's support, Galilee calls a gathering. They pick only the finest minds to attend their conference, an aristocracy of clever analysis and thought. Together, they unite around the board table in the basement to come to the deepest conclusions about man.

They are the English majors.

Maverick is there though, and he only has an English minor. Still, Galilee knows since she has taken classes with him what books in the curriculum they have read. Jerry, with his specialization in English literature specifically, looked at the books that they have all read in common and created the agenda while Galilee searched the building for Benedict and Maverick. Together, the four sit around the board table while they run their book club, answering the questions Jerry has crafted.

Mostly, the event devolved into a tier list of classic literature. If they had internet, they would use the projector to make the task easier. Instead, Galilee has tapped up a sheet where she writes the tier list all while the others bicker nearby.

Maverick seems to actually lean in. He was quiet in their meeting earlier, she thinks. It's nice to see him smile again.

"You're just being contrarian," Benedict shakes his head. "Charlotte's Web is good, but it's not A tier. It is not better than Brave New World."

"We've already agreed that Brave New World is B tier," Maverick smiles. "You've been outranked."

"It's a Classic!" Benedict throws his hands up.

Galilee giggles, "Benedict, they are all Classics."

"That is kind of the point," Maverick agrees.

They don't have many books in common, since many of their classes don't focus on the classics. Maverick has taken classes on dystopia, romance, and children's literature, so that seemed like a fair place to start.

"Brave New World is good. You can't throw the baby out with the bathwater," Benedict continues. "Come on. Consumerism? The idea that truth and happiness are incompatible? He was ahead of his time!"

"Charlotte's Web also has symbolism," Jerry shrugs, looking at them all.

Benedict looks up at Galilee. His eyes plead, waiting for her to help.

Galilee sighs, "it's a great book, agreed. It's just... Mormons don't even slut shame as much as this Huxley."

At that, Jerry smiles. He waits for Benedict to concede, which he does. Ultimately, Galilee adds Charlotte's Web to the B-tier. It's inoffensive but not as good as the other books.

Maverick gets up to swap out, and Galilee is so thankful. Being the arbiter is a brutal activity that she is ready to abandon. He grabs a white board marker, examining the board. They didn't want to erase the artwork left by all the students before him. He wants to add to it but isn't sure what exactly to write.

"It's all about the symbolism," Benedict shakes his head, still protesting.

"Symbolism is only good if it's effective," Jerry counters. He feels at the edge of his chair as they talk. "Metaphors can be evocative while being bad metaphors. I could say something to the effect of... if I were to say "he was as broad as a tree and he pined just the same" you'd think that was stupid."

"I'd think you were describing-" Benedict cuts himself off before he says Maverick's name. He loves being right, but he loves Maverick more.

"It's not that bad of a metaphor," Galilee offers, looking at Jerry. "What about maybe "the seizing man frothed at the mouth, like the cream in a frappacino"."

Benedict snaps his fingers, "I like that. That's good."

Jerry claps slowly, before rushing into uproarious applause.

Not quite paying attention, Maverick continues to ponder at the white board. Then, he smiles to himself, and begins to write on the board.

**-*

"When did you learn morse code?" Jerry asks.

Maverick turns around and smiles, "my sisters and I learned it so we could communicate secretly around my Mom."

It was hard. Painful, sometimes even, since it took Maverick much longer than any of his younger sisters to remember which letter meant what. They thought it would be easier than passing notes, and in some ways it was. The pain doesn't faze him now. What he remembers is how his sisters never stopped trying, even when he was upset, and even when he felt like he was hard to love.

Maverick drops the marker. He bolts out of the room.

The other three's heads turn to look after him as he leaves, none quite managing to say a word.

Jerry looks around them, "what am I missing?"

Benedict shrugs. Then, he glances at Galilee, "Moonie?"

"Moonie," she agrees.

~~~~~

And so the plot thickens. I've readjusted the chapter count because of how long each chapter is, and wooh boy. We are getting closer to the end with every chapter! I'm excited to see what you think.

Are there any interactions you are particularly looking forward to? Let me know in the comments!