The school week passed with little struggle.

I began meeting with Sydney regularly at The Bean while Cam stared over at us longingly. I learned Sydney preferred tea to coffee, which was why she nursed a London Fog between her hands. I was quite taken to her, although it thoroughly angered me how perfect she was. Her conversation was thoughtful and she cared about whatever I had to say.

Jesse, of course, figured we met around 5:15pm and made sure to show up. "This is such a coincidence!" he would say as he plopped himself comfortably on a stool.

On Thursday I made the senior girl's soccer team officially, and Haleigh hugged me so tight I lost my breath. We both ended up in my room with a bag of Cheetos and cans of pepsi, at her persistence. She had tons to say about everything and everyone on campus.

"That Campbell guy, like, the one that hangs out with Peter, yeah, he is in like love with Sedona," she announced, "has been for years. I remember freshman year and he would follow her around like a puppy! I think she even liked him back until she got to know him." Haleigh had popped a cheeto into her mouth with a crunch.

I finally had homework come the Friday in both of my academic courses, English and Math. My other courses were electives, History and P.E, which were proving to be easy beyond belief. It turned out that Peter and Cam were in my History, and unfortunately, Sedona was too. I could  always feel her shooting daggers at the back of my head. Brook was in P.E and my eyes always found him when he was stretching. My Math class lacked the familiar face, but I was glad for it.

It was Saturday afternoon when I sat on a bench by the large fountain outside the dormitories, reading 'Man's Search for Meaning' by Viktor Frankl. My legs were pulled up to my chest as my back lay on the arm, and I flipped the pages every few minutes. My hair was down today, falling past my chest; natural waves atoned for my lack of hair device skills. I wore the same clothes as yesterday, and my converse took quite a beating throughout the week.

I was lost in the experiences of a Nazi concentration camp prisoner when I felt the presence of someone taking a seat on the same bench. I lifted my eyes to see who it was, and shut the book fast so that I could ask Brooklyn Hunt why he was bothering me. Again.

"Is that a good book?" his words were gentle, melting my insides with his very breath.

I didn't trust him, though. I could picture where he had been just a few minutes ago, conspiring with Sedona to embarrass me. I could see the pen and paper as they doodled some contraption to make my pants fall down or have a can of pig's blood fall all over me at my coronation.

Maybe, though, I was paranoid. I obviously wasn't that important to Sedona, where she only thought of me. How could I think so highly of myself? Clearly, I wasn't the only one that Sedona hated.

She must have hated Brook in some sort of capacity, since she continued to sneak around with Jesse and probably most of the above average looking guys in the school. How on earth could someone do that to a loved one if you didn't hate them a little?

Brook wore a jean jacket over a white shirt, his black pants helped carve his strong legs. His dirty blond hair was long, not too long to pass his shoulders fortunately. His gray stare was as soft as the angriest of storms.

"Yep," I said, returning my eyes to the words of Frankl.

Brook settled himself down more comfortably, pulling out book one of A Song of Ice and Fire that I didn't know he had.

My mouth twitched, he had my attention.

He saw that I was staring and smiled. "It's my favourite."

"Mine too," I said, my heart was beating frantically. I pulled myself out of my trance, trying to remind myself that no, he should leave. "Why are you here?"

"I'm reading," he replied simply.

"But why here, why on this bench?"

He turned the first page of a Game of Thrones and only paid me a single glance. "I like this bench."

I saw him smile to himself, and I thought that his smile was too beautiful for someone like me to witness. I smiled too, just small enough that I was the only one to know it existed. I opened my book back up, and started reading, knowing full and well that I would have to reread it later.