MJ drops her books on the table. "I've decided."

Sabina stops typing on her laptop. She looks at Andy and sips on her coffee. "Here we go again."

Andy smiles down at her book.

MJ sits across from the youngest and clears her throat. "I've decided to be friends with Adrian. Just friends."

Sabina snorts. "Yeah, right. Friends with benefits."

The ginger takes out a piece of paper from her bag. "No, look. We signed a contract." She straightens the crumples on the table and shoves it in Andy's face. "No kissing, no hooking up, no talking about our past relationship. No jealousy, no feelings, no guilt-tripping."

"That's bull," Sabina says frankly, crossing her legs. "I give it a week before you're jumping his bones again."

Andy tilts her head at the contract. "Are you guys so in love that you had to do this?"

"We're not—" MJ scoffs, tossing the piece of paper in her bag once again. She leans back against her chair and scoffs again. "We're not in love. And I am not jumping his bones," she tells Sabina, pointing an index finger at her. "I am not going to fall for his tricks again. I don't want to."

Andy can see that her roommate is trying to convince herself of this. It's clear that she still has feelings for him and vice versa.

But he hurt her, and MJ is scared. She has every right to be.

Andy suddenly thinks of Rhysand. Is that why she can't say she loves him, too? Because she's scared?

Sabina sighs and nods. "Okay. Whatever you say." She returns her attention to the screen on her laptop.

Andy smiles at MJ. "I'm happy for you, then."

The junior blows her a kiss. "Thank you, bub." She takes out her notes from her bag. "Have you guys been here long?"

"Two hours," Andy answers, highlighting a line on the paragraph she was reading. "We're heading towards finals, and Sab's graduating this year."

"Don't remind me," the eldest says, still focused on her screen. "I'm losing my mind over my thesis. Whose bullshit idea was it to make graduating students suffer? I suffer already from aging. Why do I need to lose more brain cells?"

MJ grins. "Aging. You're only turning twenty-two in a few months."

Sabina shushes her, not even sparing her a glance. "Be quiet, peasant. I'm trying to sound smart here."

MJ and Andy laugh before focusing their attention on their work. As another semester is ending again, Andy wants to make sure she studies well and maintains her grades until she graduates.

It's an hour later, as they're immersed in their books and notes and thesis in the cafe, that Andy's phone rings. At first, she thinks it's Rhysand, who started his first week at Sterling a few days ago. He's been giddy about it even if it doesn't show, and Andy's so happy for him. He's been a little busy since then—adjusting, making his studio his own, meeting other producers and people he'll be working with. It also means that he gets home around seven or eight in the evening now, but Andy thinks it's because it's a new job—it'll get easier over time.

But it's not Rhysand calling her. It's her dad.

Andy's face lights up immediately as she shoots up from her seat to take the call. She heads outside and presses the phone to her ear. "Hi, Dad!"

Her father's smiling when he answers, "Hey, kiddo. Sorry, is it a bad time? Are you in school?"

"No, I'm done with class for the day," Andy says, smiling as well. It's cold outside—she forgot to bring a jacket today. She wraps her free arm around herself and asks, "What's up?"

"Just checking in," her father says, and there's shuffling and other muffled voices on the other end of the line. He's still at the police station. "You haven't been texting, and I was worried."

Andy feels the guilt creep up on her chest. Sheepishly, she tells him, "I'm sorry. I'm fine, Dad. I won't do it again."

"You're coming home for winter break, right?"

"Yes, of course."

"Good." Her father hums. "Are you...and that boy...still together?"

Andy wants to laugh at his tone. "His name is Rhysand, Dad. And yes, we're still together."

He grunts. "I still can't believe you have a boyfriend."

"Dad, please," Andy laughs. "You'll get over it eventually. I'll see you soon, okay? Don't forget to eat!"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm the parent but you like nagging me so much."

Andy laughs again. "Take care of yourself, then. I love you!"

"Love ya too, kid," he says gently. "Take care of yourself, too. Don't skip meals. And no spending the night at your boyfriend's place."

Too late, Andy thinks. "Bye!"

He hangs up.

She goes back inside the cafe and finishes her work alongside MJ and Sabina. As soon as the clock strikes six-thirty, they decide to grab dinner at a nearby restaurant before heading home. In their dorm room, MJ immediately heads to the bathroom to shower, while Sabina takes her skirt off and turns the television on, lying down on her mattress. Andy takes a seat in front of her desk and sends Rhysand a text. Babe, you home? :D

She doesn't have to wait long for his reply. Just got here. I'm exhausted.

Andy grins. Aw :( poor baby :( you didn't smoke today, did you?

Come over and I'll tell you. Miss your face

It's only been three days since they've last seen each other, considering how busy Rhysand is at his new job. Andy hugs her knees to her chest and types her reply. Did you know you're actually the clingy one in this relationship?

Don't, then.

Her smile grows wider. I'm coming!!! She sends a barrage of emojis after that.

Rhysand's response is a smiley face.

Andy giggles and grabs her bag again. Facing herself on the mirror, she combs the tangles in her hair with her fingers and quickly sprays on perfume—she smells like meat and a little hint of beer. Sabina watches her with her eyebrow raised. "Are you going for a quickie?"

"What does that mean?" she asks dazedly, leaning closely towards the mirror and frowning at her makeup. "I look terrible," she mutters, deciding if she's going to reapply some eyeshadow and blush.

But Rhysand doesn't care, she reminds herself. Rhysand doesn't care.

She opts for reapplying a bit of lip tint instead. Sabina answers, "Never mind. You're obviously going out to meet Rhysand. Even though it's late."

Andy smiles at her. "Can I borrow your car?"

She tips her chin towards her desk. "It's safer than the bus."

"Thank you!" Andy exclaims, opening her drawer and grabbing the car keys. "I'll be back later tonight. Or tomorrow. Depends."

Sabina scrunches her nose and turns her attention back at the television, waving her hand dismissively. "Yeah, yeah. Bye."

"Bye!"

The drive to Rhysand's is short. When she gets there, the Jeep is already parked in the driveway and the house is quiet. She takes her shoes off and peeks in the kitchen, finding it empty. Jenner and Rhysand are upstairs already.

She doesn't bother knocking at Rhysand's door. She heads inside immediately, looking around. Rhysand's bag is on the floor, and the water in the bathroom is running. He's taking a shower.

Andy lies down on the bed and closes her eyes, waiting for Rhysand. She doesn't realize she's about to doze off until her bleary eyes are blinking at the light, flinching at the loud ring of Rhysand's phone on the bedside table. It's a text.

Andy ignores it and sits up, but the phone rings again. And again, and again.

Annoyed, she grabs it off the table and peeks at the notifications, thinking it's from Rhysand's workplace and it must be important. She stands up to let him know, but the contact name has her frowning.

The four consecutive texts are from Veronica Kane:

Rhys, it's been weeks. Are you going to ignore me forever?

I was drunk, I'm sorry I tried to kiss you, okay? It won't happen again.

If you don't answer my messages I'll go over to your house tomorrow until you forgive me.

You'll forgive me, right? :( I miss you.

Reading the texts is stomach-churning. Andy drops the phone on the bed, hands clenching into fists. Her chest tightens so uncomfortably it's hard to breathe.

The bathroom door opens. Rhysand steps out in a shirt and sweatpants. His hair is wet, and his eyes smile first before his lips when he says, "Hey, you're here."

Andy stares at him. She feels like she's going to vomit. "Veronica has been texting you nonstop for weeks?"

His smile falls. His eyes dart towards the phone on his bed. Then he looks at her again, face expressionless, and asks, "You went through my messages?"

Andy feels sick. "Answer me first."

"Why did you go through my phone?" He sounds mad. Nervous. Like he's been caught.

"It's been ringing with texts and I thought it was from your work," she answers as calmly as she can, trying to reel her anger and confusion and hurt in, "I was going to tell you, but then I saw that they were from Veronica. Answer me."

Rhysand's jaw tightens. "Yes."

Andy stares at him. "You said nothing happened."

"Sanford."

"You said nothing happened," Andy repeats, digging her nails into her palms so hard that she's afraid she's going to tear the flesh out—"Why did she say she tried to kiss you?"

"Because she did," Rhysand answers. "I pushed her away. It was nothing."

"It's not nothing. You said nothing happened."

"We were fighting already," Rhysand counters, voice rising, "I didn't want to—" He sighs. "It's not a big deal."

"It is!" Andy shouts, feeling so sick, "it is a big deal! You said nothing fucking happened! Why did you lie to me?"

"Because I know how you feel about her!" Rhysand yells back, stepping forward. His eyebrows draw together. "It's nothing you should be worried about because I pushed her away, alright?"

"That's not the point!" Andy argues, feeling her eyes water with tears. "She's your ex—"

"So what?" Rhysand snaps, throwing his hands in the air. "So fucking what if she's my fucking ex? She was drunk, it meant nothing—I pushed her away! Why are you making such a big deal out of this?"

Andy's chest heaves. Her cheeks are wet already. She hates, hates, hates that tears fall out of her eyes whenever her heart hurts. "I'm not allowed to confront you about something you lied about? I'm the one at fault? I'm not supposed to care that your ex is texting you nonstop, saying she misses you and that she'll come over if you don't reply?"

Rhysand exhales heavily. "Sanford."

"Okay then." Andy turns around and grabs her bag. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have looked at your phone."

"Why are you leaving?" The anger and desperation in his voice is unmistakable. "You're not leaving."

"Don't tell me what to do," she says, yanking her arm back when Rhysand tries to snatch it. She looks at him with wetness clouding her vision and her voice trembles when she says, "Don't follow me."

Rhysand watches her leave.

Andy rushes down the staircase and slams open the car door. She doesn't know how she gets to her dorm without crashing, but she makes it.

MJ and Sabina are already asleep—it's a school night. She heads to the bathroom first, strips off her clothes and makeup, and stands in the shower, furiously rubbing at her skin until it's abused and blotched red.

She lies down on her bed without drying her hair. Her phone has three texts and four missed calls from Rhysand.

Andy turns over on the mattress and clutches the collar of her shirt, feeling her chest ache. Her head is swimming with useless and drowning thoughts, but she lets the tears fall. There's no point in stopping them—Andy cries whenever she's upset. She hates it, but it makes her feel better afterwards.

But her heart hurts.

Her phone buzzes with another incoming call.

And because she's still furious, she throws off her blanket, grabs it and steps outside, pushing the answer button down. "What do you want?" she snaps, sniffling. "I already said I'm sorry for looking through your phone, what the hell do you want?"

"Sanford," Rhysand says, and Andy's legs buckle, and then she's on the floor and covering her mouth with her free hand, sobbing into it. "Let's talk."

"Fuck you," Andy says through her tears, and it hurts, it hurts, it hurts—"Fuck you. You said it was my fault."

"Let's talk about this," Rhysand continues calmly, as if Andy didn't just swear at him—"Can you calm down a bit for me?"

"You lied to me," she sobs, sniffling, wiping her eyes and her cheeks and clutching her chest. "How could you not see the wrong in that? You know how I feel about Veronica—"

"I'm sorry," Rhysand says abruptly, gentle and sincere and everything that he wasn't an hour ago—"You were right. I'm sorry I lied, I'm sorry I kept it from you. I'm sorry I tried to blame you."

Andy shuts her eyes. She's still crying.

Rhysand lets her.

But Andy stays on the phone.

"Sunshine, I'm sorry." He's pleading now. Desperate.

Andy doesn't answer. She sniffles and wipes her eyes again.

Rhysand tries again. "I'm sorry, please stop crying."

Andy doesn't answer.

"Sunshine, please," Rhysand says. "I love you. I'm sorry."

Andy swallows the lump in her throat. "You're an obnoxious asshole," she finally tells him. Her voice rings across the silent hallway. "You're an obnoxious asshole and you make me so mad and sad sometimes but you're also the best person I've ever known and I love you. Don't lie to me again or I swear to God I will kill you."

Rhysand's quiet.

Andy sniffles. "Also tell Veronica to fuck off or I'll do it myself."

"You love me?"

"Is that all you heard?" she snaps, irritated.

"I won't lie to you again, I'll tell Veronica to fuck off," he says in a rush, out of breath, like he's running. "You love me?"

Andy wipes the last of her tears. "Yeah, you asshole. I love you."

A heavy breath. And then, "Don't go anywhere."

"Where would I even go—"

He hangs up.

Andy stares at her phone incredulously. Her heart is still racing and her mind is running with different emotions all at once, but the anger in her chest is gone, and she's exhausted from all the crying and she just wants to lie down—

Loud steps are coming up from the staircase. Andy stands up, eyes wide. Rhysand is running, taking two steps at a time. "Rhys. What are you—"

Rhysand doesn't let her finish her sentence, he grabs her by the waist with one hand and the other tilts her face, roughly pressing his lips to hers.

Andy throws her arms around his neck, back pushed up against the wall. She's crying into the kiss, pressing her body to his—and his arms feel like comfort and pain and he smells of home.

Rhysand pulls back. Grazes his thumb across her cheek, wipes her tears, stares into her eyes with unwavering intensity and adoration and love—"Say it to my face."

"Apologize to me first," Andy says, fisting his shirt in her hands.

"I'm sorry," he says quickly. "I love you."

Andy's voice doesn't tremble when she answers, "I love you too."

The corner of Rhysand's lips turn up. "You gonna break my heart, Sanford?"

Andy has a feeling that it's going to be the other way around. Still, she says, "Only if you're an asshole to me."

He laughs. Loud and triumphant and happy. "Fuck! I love you!"

"Shut up!" she scolds him with wide eyes, slapping his chest. "You're going to wake the whole floor. How long have you been downstairs? What about the RA?"

"I followed you here," Rhysand admits, smiling so wide, "and I was waiting in the Jeep until you answered my call. The RA's asleep."

Andy blinks at him. "You're crazy."

"I love you," he says again in response, softly this time, not tearing his gaze away from hers. "Thank you for loving me back."

Andy buries her head on the curve of his neck and shoulder. Brushes her lips on the skin of his racing pulse point. She wants to say there's nothing to thank her for, but what she whispers is, "You're welcome."

*

South Bend is freezing.

Because of this, the last session for water polo ends before December, and it's a relief—Andy has finals to worry about. She dedicates more time studying in the library than getting rest in her dorm, and hanging out with Rhysand proves to be difficult when both of them are busy with their own stuff. Andy studies in his studio while waiting for him to come home from work, and when he does, they eat dinner quickly and Andy goes back to her notes and reviewers and Rhysand puts his headphones on and faces the computer again.

And though her exams end, Rhysand's work doesn't—he gets more and more busy every day.

And it's a little strange to see Rhysand so stressed—when he was a freelancer, his working hours were more flexible and he finished projects at his own pace. It's different at Sterling.

Andy understands. But she's worried, too.

On the day that she has to leave for winter break, Andy loads her luggage into MJ's car with the phone pressed in between her shoulder and ear. "Are you sure you don't need me to stay? I can skip winter break at Parkway this year."

"Baby, no," Rhysand mutters, and Andy knows he's working right now—he sounds distracted. "You need to be with your dad. I'll be fine, don't worry. M'sorry I couldn't drive you."

Andy smiles and steps back from the trunk. MJ drags her smaller suitcase across the lobby of their dorm building. "It's okay, you're at work. Please get some rest and don't forget to eat, okay?"

Rhysand hums. "Text me when you get in and be safe."

Andy hangs up. "Ready to go?"

MJ dusts off her hands. "Yep. You drive first then let's switch. Deal?"

"Deal. I'm so happy you're going to meet my dad."

"It's about time, bub. Come on."

Andy spends her holidays at home with her father. Rhysand calls when he gets the chance—stays on the phone with her to count down the seconds left for the year (even though he grumbles that it's corny and lame—he can't say no to Andy).

And though they agree on no gifts because of the headphones and the watch, Rhysand gives her a necklace anyway. A sun.

He brushes his fingertips around her collarbone and neck to put it on her. One of Andy's hands reach up to her chest to feel the small pendant resting on her throat, not knowing what to say.

Rhysand tips up her chin and kisses her. "My sunshine," he mumbles against her lips. Kisses her once more.

Andy fists her hands into his shirt. "I love you."

Rhysand smiles, and his dimple shows. "I know."

*

 i couldn't help myself and decided to upload another chapter skdjskjdks

any questions and thoughts are welcome! please feel free to message me if you like ♡