Sitting outside the Dean's office was, in my perspective, a great way to spend the last few minutes of the morning.

However, my comrades didn't seem to think the same.

"This is your fault." The brunette grunted, her floor-length black skirt shifting around her light legs as she lifted her left one over her right.

"As true as that may be, you were never asked to shut me up." I pointed out, shrugging. "So I could've been chilling here alone if y'all hadn't chimed in."

"We're obliged to, considering the amount of sound leaving your mouth." Quincy remarked, his eyes wholeheartedly focussed on the painting that hung on the dark, wooden walls, in all of its uninteresting obscurity.

"I like you more," the girl mentioned, pointing at Quincy.

"I do too," he deadpanned.

Sighing softly, I let my eyes wander around the small waiting area, its wooden walls insulating every bit of comfortable warmth that floated around the room. Sunlight surged in from the window to the right, and other than the potted plant that rested on the table below the strange painting, the space was relatively empty.

Silence hung thick over us-the eerie, unsettling kind that invades every horror movie, right after the character asks, "Who's there?" and, after that moment of intense, expectant quiet, is greeted with a face full of death.

I wasn't quite in the mood to die today. Not yet, at least.

Not ever. My subconscious piped up.

But there was nothing I could do. Both Quincy and the unnamed girl-who I'd briefly considered calling the Acrylic Wonder-kept their mouths stitched shut, the rage being breathed in faster than it could be forced out.

Frowning, I slid my phone out, eager to reply to Noah.

"That's how all of this started," Quincy muttered, still staring at the painting. "Do you really think you should be using it right now?"

"Noah and I have very important things to talk about," I replied swiftly.

blue-eyed beast: sent an image.

I furrowed my brows, tapping the picture before I could decide otherwise. A flashy toothed Noah appeared, along with another guy whose hair was combed over to the right, with marvellous brown eyes that radiated I am the cute guy in question.

blue-eyed beast: consider yourself played with ;)

me: sent an image.

me: don't mess with me, son.

shit-face: did you really just change my name?

me: HELL YES

"Then call the kid up," the girl huffed. "Serious things aren't meant to be discussed over text."

"He's kidding," Quincy informed her, taking his eyes off of the painting to stare at the door of the waiting room. "He and his boyfriend are bantering."

"He took a selfie with the guy sitting next to him at his information thing," I hissed, rolling my eyes, only momentarily cringing at the word 'boyfriend'. Before I could finish my performance off with a signature huff, I burst into laughter, clutching my phone tightly in my hand.

"God, you're just a bucket of noise, aren't you?" the girl muttered, tapping her nails against her knee.

Amidst my chuckles, all other words were lost.

You can't hurt me if I can't hear you. HA!

"If you wouldn't mind," the Dean's voice boomed from the waiting room door. I froze, choking out a weak chuckle as the woman stepped into the room, the clicking of her heels muffled against the soft, light red rug. "Stepping into my office?"

We all rose, eyeing her as she opened another door to Quincy's left, and following her through.

I dropped my phone into my back pocket, and held my hands in front of me, hoping that would make me look like less of a loud, ignorant, disrespectful ass.

From the way Quincy glared at me, I didn't think it worked.

The Dean stepped around her mahogany desk, dark as the brown that gleamed on her flesh, and stood tall beside her swivel chair, observing each of us from behind her thick-framed glasses.

"I don't usually call students out with regards to noise," she began, taking a seat, "but, as you can see, you three are the exception."

The girl beside me pursed her lips, raising her hand slightly.

"Mrs Weaver, if I may-?"

"You may not, Miss." the Dean retorted, sending the girl's hand back to its stagnant position at her side. "As I was saying, you're a particularly noisy bunch, and considering the fact that you live in what has proved to be the quietest dorm building around, this poses a problem."

I bit my lip, remaining silent as she sized us up once more.

"It was a feeble misunderstanding," the girl said politely, a much more soothing tone compared to her previous one made of ice and skid marks. "I promise it won't happen again."

"Can you two promise the same?" Ms Weaver questioned, her eyes-a bright, chestnut brown, the kind that reminded one of tree bark in the spring, or fertile soil-floating over to Quincy and I.

"Yes Ma'am," he replied, absolutely no beats missed.

She blinked in my direction, seemingly waiting for an answer.

"I hope so, Ma'am." I said, shrugging. A single brow perked-mightily, might I add-and her eyes remained trained on me.

"Mr Forest, is it?" she stated, not really needing her assumption affirmed. I nodded. Her eyes glanced towards the paper on her desk, ingesting the information ravenously. "Your academic grasp is unparalleled, Mr Forest." I smiled, nodding once more. "According to your teachers, though, you never spoke much. There were a few sensitive incidents, but overall, you were a very quiet boy. What happened?"

I frowned as her eyes fluttered back to me, flecks of a cold, calculating woman breaking through the light in her eyes.

Out of all the things I didn't enjoy speaking of, high school-and all the memories that came with it-was my least favourite. Sometimes, when it's quiet and Noah's sleep beside me, I start to wonder why I'd ever been that way; why I'd allowed those people to define me and tear me down, why I'd never stood up for myself, why I always needed a saviour. I looked to the least anchored thing in my life-Mason-and begged him to keep me still, when I should have found the strength I so desperately needed within myself.

I guess you have to live to learn, though.

"I wasn't very happy with myself," I sighed. "And now, I am."

Her mouth remained in that rigid, terrifyingly straight line, but her eyes softened, the streaks of ice shifting back to baked almonds and the wood that lined the walls of her waiting room.

"Fair enough," she said, nodding. "Just don't disrupt those around you next time, okay?"

I nodded, managing a small smile in her direction. She sent one back, and her eyes whizzed to the door.

"You may leave."

And, without a single step out of leisure, we scurried out of the room, with me hovering behind the other two. Once I shut the door, the brunette sent daggers, forks, and various sharp-tipped objects in my direction, her brown eyes narrowed, but pushing forth so much anger that I nearly thought she'd knock me out right there.

"Listen, I'm sorry," I whispered, biting my lip. "I didn't think I was making that much noise, but I clearly was, and I'm sorry you got dragged into it. You too, Quincy."

"I'll live," he said, smirking, a flash of those extraordinary teeth reaching his eyes. I returned the smile before my eyes darted back to the girl, who still looked like she had lemon juice squirted into her eyes, and a rat's ass shuffling around her mouth.

"I'm Dan," I introduced, stretching out my hand. She glanced at it as it trembled ever so slightly, and took a deep breath, the frustration in her face fading into the air.

"Zelda," she said, forcing a smile as she took my hand in her rather fierce grip. "Sorry for getting so mad at you; defying authority just grinds my gears." I nodded, letting my hand fall at my side.

"Quincy," the dark-haired boy said, sending a small wave in Zelda's direction. She smiled, tucking a strand of her unbelievably straight chestnut hair away from her eyes.

"It was interesting meeting you both," she said, glancing down at her watch. "But I really have to go-my sister's probably looking for me, and a lost freshman is not the most ideal situation, especially today."

"I can help you get around," Quincy offered, his smile upgrading to baring all of those pearly, slightly dangerous whites. "Forest, you mind?"

I shook my head, eyebrows darting in the direction of the door.

"Not at all," I chirped. "You two get on your way-I'll figure it out."

His brows perked curiously, and his eyes squinted questioningly. I nodded once more, and the corner of his lip raised, another flash of teeth greeting my sight.

"See you around, Dan." Zelda said, waving slightly. I smiled, watching them leave the waiting room, and momentarily wondering if the next time I'd see her would be in Quincy's bed.

I highly doubted it; Quincy seemed practical and concise, unlikely to fall into bed before falling into her head, and her heart. Then again, people can surprise you.

Sighing contentedly, I pulled my phone out of my pocket, venturing out of the office. Once I'd reached the hallway, I leaned against the bricked wall behind me, checking my new messages.

shit-face: sent an image.

My brows furrowed as I tapped the image. Noah popped up, the area under is eyes dabbed with fatigue, but his smile brighter than ever. Beside him, sitting on a bed, was the guy from the previous pictures, tongue out, flashing his tongue piercing, and cosily dressed in his underwear.

shit-face: aforementioned cutie and I basically live together

Rolling my eyes, I typed out a response, a smile playing on my lips.

me: so do Q and i so

me: sPEAKING OF Q

me: HE'S HELPING THIS HELLA FINE GIRL LOOK FOR HER SISTER AND I'M 200% SURE THEY'RE GOING TO BE A THING I CANNOT WAIT

shit-face: maybe he'll have to wait four years too

shit-face: but then again, those were the best four years of my life.

I bit my lip, trying to prevent from smiling.

Even now, on some fundamental, deeply intimate level, I couldn't believe it-we kissed in between meals; he held my hand when we walked around town; he tucked my head into his neck when I couldn't sleep, and even when I could; and, amidst the tidal wave of change that came crashing into our lives, he was more Noah than he had ever been.

More than enough for me.

me: you're going to make me cry you little shit

shit-face: put your tears in a jar and water plants

shit-face: or not

shit-face: I'll be back in a few hours; football try-outs.

me: stay safe, don't die, knock 'em out. you're gonna SLAAAAYY.

The message remained delivered, and I frowned slightly before locking my phone and gripping the smooth, chilly slab of steel between my fingers.

Alas, the dip of my lips couldn't stay there for long-the far-off sound of buzzing conversation and general excitement stirred happiness within me, along with a few spoonfuls of worry.

I'm here.

After months of stressing about applications-both mine and Noah's-and wondering how far he would be from me and refusing to let him convince me to head to Stanford or Harvard (or, dare I say it, NYU), I was here. Exactly where I wanted to be.

Only an hour's drive from him in traffic, and forty-five minutes on clear roads. We'd promised that we'd make this work, and we were.

Mother had applauded us for being so mature, and Dad was more excited than I'd originally thought he'd be, but neither agreed on the apartment.

"It's too soon," Mom had said softly. "You've been friends forever, but now you're more. It's like driving in the same car, but heading in a different direction-like changing your route. It's going to take some time for your hearts to settle, and I don't want you to be living together while you're both crazy and on fire."

"I am not crazy," I'd huffed.

"Don't make me mention the man-friends." Dad had coughed, glancing at me from the corner of his eye.

But, they allowed me to attend Orson, and Mr Kensington was more than happy with Noah's college situation; he'd been given a football scholarship at Enderdale, which would apply once he actually made the team. I couldn't have been more excited, either; he'd be close to me, and well on his way to living his dream.

Who ever said you had to be apart to do great things?

"Hey there," a familiar voice beckoned, snapping me out of my reverie. I raised my head, eyes focusing on the head of dark, long hair of the man in front of me, stubble-free and dry as a bone.

"Kansas," I said, smiling softly. A set of bright, flashy teeth appeared from behind his lips, his eyes gleaming.

"Yeah, you remembered." He muttered, shoving his hands into the pockets of his loose denim jeans, only keeping his thumbs free.

"Of course I did," I scoffed, chuckling lightly. "One doesn't easily forget those he meets in empty bathrooms at two a.m."

A boisterous laugh escaped his lean body, and his arms tensed up, the sleeves of his blue shirt rolled up until the start of his elbow. I tilted my head, observing his fascinatingly clean, smooth face.

Shaving still captivated me-the hair's there, then, after a quick scrape of a razor, it's not. What even?

Since my mom had stopped taking me to the salon to get everything waxed ("you're a big, awfully embarrassing boy, now; you can pay for your own waxes."), Noah had helped me with shaving, alongside struggling to teach me. Several tiny plasters and barely noticeable scars later, and here I was, able to shave with minimal injuries.

They really do grow up so fast.

"What're you doing here, all alone?" he inquired softly. His brows were slightly furrowed, as if he'd discovered a teabag in his coffee, and I straightened my neck, blinking.

"Well, I was texting my-" The word slid down my throat, resting in the pit of my stomach. "Noah. We were texting, and he kind of had to go, so I'm just...here, kinda waiting for something to happen."

He nodded, the crease on his forehead smoothing itself out.

"You shall wait no more," he remarked. "You've already missed the school tour, which is quite a bummer, but all the new students are huddled in one of the school quads, talking and meeting their lecturers-you could join them."

Frowning, I glanced down the lengthy hallway, the hum of humans growing louder the longer I stared into its vastness.

"I'm going to be so lost tomorrow," I sighed, thrusting my phone into my front pocket. "I might have lost my map, and I'm terrible at directions, so this is going to be quite a struggle."

I'd carried the map when Noah and I had marched our way towards my dorm, but anything after that was completely lost to me.

Note to self: start writing actual notes.

"I could show you around, if you want." Kansas muttered, glancing at his sneakered feet. I shook my head rapidly, frowning.

"You really don't have to do that," I told him, my hands fleeing to his arms. They tensed as soon as my skin met the soft fabric of his shirt, and I pulled back, wincing. "I'm sorry. Anyway, I'm sure you have more important things to do, and I should too, and I've got a map somewhere in my dorm-"

"I don't mind," he insisted politely, flashing a quick smile. "Really. Plus, those maps are pretty confusing."

"I'd have figured it out," I huffed. "But thank you."

He smiled, nodding as he pulled his arms out of his pockets, gesturing to the seemingly endless hallway before us.

"After you," he boomed, bowing his head. My lips perked slightly, and I stepped forward, into a small section of the vastness before me-the one that would hold the future; the whispers in the day and the dark; the slamming of my feet as I run and their light tap as I walk; and books that would undoubtedly sprawl across the floor while people tiptoed past.

But, now, it welcomed Kansas and I with open arms. Sunlight peeked into the hallway from one of the open doorways further down, as if to say, "Come in, Dan; your future is waiting for you."

It wouldn't have to wait any longer.

"I never got your name," Kansas whispered as we strolled leisurely.

"Dan," I said. "Dan Forest."

"I always love meeting Dans," he chuckled, glancing at me. I furrowed my brows. "They're always better Dan everyone else."

Halting abruptly, I burst into a fit of laughter that echoed into eternity, the one my future rested in. My cheeks gradually began to sting, and as the joke settled into my skin, my cackle faded into the occasional chuckle.

"I think I'm going to write that one down."

*

Within an hour, we'd covered the entire area of campus, starting with the lecture halls and edging towards the quad where everyone had gathered. We leisurely strutted into the open air, the buzz of chatter still in the air, but a lot quieter than before.

Kansas had been an excellent tour guide, everything considered. He'd run through the shortcuts and all the places I'd need to know about-bathrooms, any and all ways to the Dean's office, and the cafeteria-and the best way to get back to the dorms without being stampeded on.

"So, Kansas," I muttered, tilting my head in his direction. The light hit his hair just right, the dark brown strands burning a light chestnut as he turned his head slightly, bushy eyebrows perked in my direction. "Why are you here?"

He frowned, shrugging lazily.

"I'm not exactly sure what you mean," he chuckled softly, scratching the back of his neck with the hand that wasn't in his pocket.

"On campus," I elaborated. "I mean, you're not a freshman, and I'm assuming you aren't new, since you were showering in our bathrooms this morning."

"Well, I-"

"Forest!" Quincy's voice boomed from ahead. I squinted, my eyes barely catching a glimpse of a tall figure far in front of us, right around where the quad was. He only grew taller as he jogged towards us, and I frowned; Zelda wasn't with him.

"Roommate?" Kansas asked swiftly. I nodded, making absolutely no attempt to quicken my pace-Quincy had this on lockdown.

His red and black flannel shirt, unbuttoned, breezed around the black T-shirt he wore underneath it. Despite wearing the skinniest jeans I'd ever seen-black, obviously-he ran without a problem, sneakered feet hitting the ground without him falling over or breaking anything.

Goals.

"I've been looking for you everywhere," he said breathily once he'd reached us. His eyes flew to Kansas for a brief moment, a small smile adorning his face. "Quincy."

"Kansas," he replied as easily, returning the smile.

"What do you need, pumpkin seed?" I asked once Q's eyes fluttered back to mine.

"The lecturers are about to leave, and I highly suggest you meet at least some of them before they go." He replied, side-eyeing Kansas as we spoke. "You're a Literature major, right?"

I nodded, brows furrowed.

"How'd you-?"

"Excuse my curiosity," he began, "but I saw your map and schedule on the floor, so I checked them out while you were sleeping. I put them back in your bag, though, so don't stress about losing them."

I let out a sigh of relief, and his lips perked in that sly smirk again.

"We gotta jet," he pointed out. Without missing a beat, or even tripping over himself-how does he do it?-he turned to Kansas and stretched out his hand. "It was positively great meeting you."

"Likewise," the recently-shaved man replied, shaking Quincy's hand. They broke apart, and Quincy grabbed my wrist, stepping speedily towards the quad, the noise growing louder in my ear canals, and the sound of my future humming along beneath it.

XXX

more procrastination!!!! yay!!! (not really.)

i love you.

- jay.