8:07 AM

So much for sleeping in.

The first thing I see when I open my eyes is Tasha's empty bed. Honestly, why does she pay for on-campus housing? I've seen her maybe five times over that last two weeks. I plug in my phone on the charger and roll out of bed. I brew a coffee and gather my caddy for the shower. Maybe the answer to all my problems will come to me under the hot water. Maybe.

I don't blow dry my hair per my usual routine. I will have Nikki help me style it later. She loves to use me as her doll. Instead, I flip it into a wet messy bun for now and slip into my sweats and oversized hoodie. I check my phone for the first time since my shower and I see several missed messages.

DANCE 2NITE!!

C U at the dance <3

Elle, what's this I hear about a school dance? For Sweethearts?

Have u seen my eye shadow palette?

Darren. Shawn. Mom. Nikki.

I type out answers as fast as I can. Yes, Darren. Dance tonight. See you at the dance too, Shawn. Yes, mom. I did not tell you about it for a reason. The fact that she most likely heard from Mrs. Carr, who most likely heard from Shawn, is enough to induce vomiting. Nope. Why on earth would I have seen your eye shadow, Nikki? I toss my phone down onto the bed and groan.

The beads on my dress glimmer in the golden morning light filtering through my open curtain. The dress hangs in my closet, in plain view, a constant reminder of what's to come –of what I've gotten myself into –of what I need to face. Tonight.

My stomach grumbles. I know I'm hungry, but I cannot imagine eating food right now. Still, I try to pick at a brown sugar granola bar I pull from the makeshift pantry under my bed. Hopefully I can keep it down. This is not me. I do not lose sleep and appetite over boys! I lose sleep over reading more chapters than required or doing a week's worth of homework in one night!

Since there are no classes today, I decide to paint my toenails to distract myself from thinking about the Fig fiasco. Forget-me-not pink. The acrid smell invades my nostrils and helps blow my concentration for a few minutes, but it's nothing more than a temporary reprieve.

I open my laptop to search the college's homework website for new postings. Maybe writing a new essay or starting new chapters will help divert my attention from the trio of boys on my mind.

...

12:02 PM

I decide to take a page out of Nev's advice playbook. No, I'm not dating them all. But I did arrange to have a sort of mini speed-dating session. I texted Shawn, Harry, and Jake, and asked them each to meet me in the purple lounge at the SAC.

I decide I need to speak with each of them before the dance, to apologize for my behavior and to save face for them finding out the way they did last night.

So, at 1:15 PM I find myself walking into the SAC's second floor wi-fi lounge, which is littered with purple couches and home to Mix Tape Radio station. Even so, there's a lot less foot traffic here than the rest of the SAC. I find an empty couch pushed against the wall and set up camp.

Camp is just my phone and coffee and coat, and most of my dignity. But who is checking that? My eyes concentrate on the neon purple and green MTR sign hanging above the door at the end of the hallway.

Shawn is the first to arrive. I know he has afternoon training at 2:00, so I promised to be quick. But, as he smiles at me from across the lounge and hangs his head, I can already feel myself forgetting my rehearsal.

"Hi Ellie," he says, sitting on the couch beside me.

"Hi Shawn," I smile. "Thanks for coming."

"Everything okay? Your text was very vague and after last night–"

"That's what I wanted to apologize for," I blurt out, hoping it doesn't seem like I am interrupting him.

"Apologize?" Shawn asks, tilting his head.

"I mean. About Jake and Harry and how things happened..." I'm not sure how else to word it.

"Elle, it's okay. Honestly, I'm less worried about them than about you. And how you feel," Shawn quickly adds.

"That's fair," I admit, biting my lip. "I just –I had to say I'm sorry for the scene last night."

"Apology accepted," he grins. "Does this mean that I'll see you at the dance tonight?"

"I will be there, yes. But I still–"

"It's okay," Shawn says, shaking his head. "You can tell me there."

His insinuation is as crystal as the ice cube in my coffee.

I simply nod and wave as Shawn leaves me sitting on the couch, feeling every bit as confused about him as I was last night. At least I was able to apologize correctly and privately for the ridiculousness that unraveled last night.

It's almost 2:00 and I squirm on the couch, glancing periodically at the stairs for Jake. I wonder briefly if Jake has ever even stepped foot in the purple lounge.

I see Jake approach and everything I thought I hard sorted out comes undone, right out the purple lounge window. Before I met him, I never pictured myself with anyone like Jake, with his reckless behavior and volatile temperament, with his Holden attitude. It was never something that appealed to me.

"Hey Elizabeth," he says, smiling lopsidedly.

"Hey," I blush. "Glad you came."

"Me too. I'm not used to being summoned. Definitely not used to obliging." He jokes.

"Well, I'm honored," I exaggerate. But really, I am.

"Hope this means I'm about to get good news," he says, leaning back on the couch with an effortless nonchalance.

"You're about to get an apology," I say, mumbling. The fluster is real.

"An apology doesn't sound too good." Jake frowns. He and Nikki have the same crestfallen face.

"I want you to know that I'm sorry about last night. I didn't –still don't want to hurt anyone's feelings," I say, looking intensely at Jake's thermal.

"What about your feelings?" He questions.

"Mine?"

"Aren't you hurting your own feelings with all this?" He asks, leaning in ever so slightly.

"I –Yes I am," I nod.

"So, what do you want? That's what matters. Not him or the other him or even me." Jake's smile is more of a grimace.

I'm flabbergasted at his maturity right now, at the depth of his understanding.

I am hurting my own feelings.

Jake stands abruptly and I find myself popping up from my seat as well, like some old-fashioned person that needs to stand when their company is entering or exiting the room.

He is so close if I just reached out, I could rest my hand on his chest, breathe in his minty musk. His dark chocolate eyes search mine.

"I will let you sit on your feelings. And see you at the dance tonight, whatever you decide," Jake says quietly.

I merely nod, unable to find words enough to respond.

Jake leaves and I fall to the couch once again feeling more confused than 10 minutes ago. That's two down. And one international celebrity to go.

Almost done ;)

I reread Harry's text over and over as I sit for 20 minutes, watching people come and go into MTR's sound-proof studio. I know Gilded Rage is in there, giving their last interview of the day, pumping everyone up for the dance tonight.

As if this campus needs any more pumping!

The red light finally clicks off and the doors opens. Five guys pour out in a raucous, laughing and cheering. Magically, Brittany and Amanda are in the hall, waiting to greet them. Harry spots me on the couch and makes his way over. Hungry eyes follow him all the way to the spot beside me on the couch.

"Miss Elle." He greets me with a smile.

"Hi Harry," I say. "Good interview?"

"Crazy in there," he says, shaking his head. "Band's always a bit rowdy before a show."

"Looks it," I laugh, peering over his head at his laughing bandmates.

The tall one with sandy hair, Georgie, I think, has his arm slung around Amanda's shoulders. She's loving every second of it.

"I'm excited to see you perform tonight," I admit.

"Finally, a fan now?" Harry grins.

"Well, for today at least." I shrug.

Harry pretends to be shot through the heart and laughs. My eyes follow his tatted arms. I watch him so casually in his element, relaxed and confident. It's hard to imagine that barely a week ago I was agreeing to go back to his hotel room for late night tea.

I realize I'm staring at him and not actually saying anything to him. I perk up a bit at Georgie's laughter.

"About last night –About the whole week actually–" I start.

"It's alright, love." Harry holds up a darkly inked hand. I stare at the Ace of Spades card on small of his wrist.

"But I'm sorry. For the behavior. For the scene. I know you like to live under the radar," I frown.

"I like trying to live under the radar. Doesn't always pan out," Harry says. "Plus, I didn't mind so much. I like you, Elle. Even if they do too."

"Okay," I chirp.

Oh great.

I think, secretly, and maybe selfishly, I was hoping the whole Fig Showdown would make at least one of them bow out, leave the race, throw in the towel –give up!

No dice.

"Got to go," Harry says, taking my hand and planting a kiss on my hand. His lips are so perfectly pink and supple I imagine leaning in to kiss them.

"Okay," I breathe slowly.

"I'll see you at the dance. We can talk more then," Harry says.

I watch him leave too quickly, until it's just me and the plum couch again.

That makes three.

...

"So, what on earth are you going to do tonight, honey?" Lucy asks from her spot on my bed.

"I wish I had an answer for you," I admit, frowning at my poor homemade pedi. "Wish I had an answer for Shawn, for Jake, for Harry. For myself."

"Elle without an answer? Is this a first?" Nikki teases, pretending to be worried.

"Very funny." I roll my eyes.

Nikki continues to apply copious amounts of eye shadow to my face. Glitter Girls, whereuat? I watch the brush fall from my face and dip back into the bronze powder. Oh man.

Nikki spent the last hour combing and curling my hair with her favorite wand. It is mostly loose curls with some pinned up to mimic a half-up/half-down hairdo. The muted mauve color of the dress pairs nicely with my milk chocolate hair. At the very least, I will look decent tonight.

"I still cannot believe you met Harry. I'm sorry. MADE OUT WITH HARRY!" Nikki exclaims, moving onto the mascara.

"Yea, you mentioned it once or twice," I smirk.

"It's just, think of it," Nikki says, looking into a daydream. "I'll think of it for you. International love affair with sexy hot musician. Concerts. Travel. Sex."

"Nikki!" I hiss, going red. "Weren't you just saying last night how it'll never work out. Too "international" you said."

"Oh, come on. You must have thought about it. I mean, look at him," Nikki says. Lucy nods her agreement.

"It's not like that. Sure, we've kissed. But we've also spent hours talking and comparing literature and art and philosophy–"

"Oh my God. Stop. You're hurting me." Nikki puts up a finger to stop me. Lucy laughs from my bed.

"Leave it to Elle to have a soulful, existential connection to a sexy celebrity," Lucy says, rolling her eyes.

"Of course, I've noticed he's attractive, I'm not blind. But he's also profound. I can't explain it," I sigh, feeling embarrassed.

"Mhmm." Lucy nods. Nikki finishes touching up my lips before telling me to look into the mirror.

"Okay. Blot your lips."

Nikki looks down at me, waiting. I smack my lips together a couple times over the piece of tissue she put in my mouth.

"I don't even know how I feel. Maybe it is nothing!" I protest.

"You know how you feel, E." Nikki says, frowning. "Remember when I couldn't even force you to a dorm party? Bet you miss those days now."

"More than you know," I laugh.

Nikki lets me stand and I walk over to the side of my closet where my shoes are. Heels. "Is this how everyone feels? All conflicted and torn and the likes?"

"Yes," Nikki nods.

"Yea," Chloe echoes. "Sort of a requirement I think."

"I just wish I knew how three people could make me feel like I am three wholly different Elles. I'm one way and then I'm someone else. Then I'm a new person altogether." I exhale.

"Yea, you're out of luck," Lucy laughs.

"Shit outta luck." Nikki nods.

...

We're standing in the dorm hall lobby. I'm right where I was when I did my Irish goodbye at Darren's pseudo not-a-dorm party. I'm between Nikki and Chloe, both wearing white colored Boho dresses with pink flower crowns. Yes, they are that extra.

Darren and his date Theo, both wearing neon purple suits, are behind me by the soda vending machines. Lucy is leaning in the doorway, smiling at her phone. No doubt a text from Nev. A candy heart box is empty at my feet.

That reminds me... The craze is over. Someone won the tickets yesterday. A junior boy, I think. Harry told me to come to Gilded Rage's concert tomorrow in Boston anyway. He said to bring whomever I wanted and that he would leave tickets for me. I never thought a popstar would be leaving tickets for me anywhere. It's been a whirlwind and I don't know what to do about it.

I love the connection Harry and I share and the way he makes me feel vibrant, soulful, and profound. It's all so different from the way Shawn makes me feel. Certain and comfortable. Our friendship is truly unparalleled. But then, so is my draw to Jake. It's magnetism. He makes me feel alive and argumentative and fiercely strong.

The problem is not that I like all three of them. It's that I don't know which version of myself I prefer. Then again, I'm hardly myself when I'm with all three of them!

Goddamn, all I wanted to do was skip the dance and here I am –ready to walk off to three suitors like I am hosting some adolescent bachelorette ceremony. I bet Nikki even has my roses ready.

My stomach churns violently, growing a noxious blend of anxiety and fear. There is a cherry on top though, and that is picturing myself dancing the night away with him. I just have to get there and make my decision.

Half of me wants to run off to my clock tower and bury myself in a book. But I know I won't find my answer hidden in any story. This is my story.

And I know how I want it to end.