The 'too soon to say' had evaporated quickly. Two weeks later, Liam and I were dating. Unambiguously. Spending time together in each other's rooms, having meals together, and kissing soon became normal. Comfortable.

A pleasant side effect was that John fit into my life better. I could spend time with him again without having to worry that one of us might act inappropriately, or about what anyone would think. The lines had been drawn. Being in a committed relationship gave me more freedom, as strange as it sounded.

One thing the two men would still not do is spend time together, but that was fine by me. This way I avoided foul moods and instead spent quality time with each of them. Their dorms being far apart (at least as far as a small campus allowed) helped the matter, too. John's building, Ross Hall, was not only a dorm, it also held one of the two main dining halls, so I was there more often than at Liam's town house dorm.

It was one of those bleak late October evenings which motivated me to do exactly one thing: curl up with a blankie and a cup of tea and stream the attorney show I had just started watching. Alas, it was still midterm season and John and I were using the Friday night to study for the Early Republic exam on the couch in his suite's common area. Devin was in his room with the door shut, Zach seemed to be out.

On a whim, John pushed his laptop shut. "Let's go to the dining hall. My brain is fried and thinking about fried things is making me hungry."

"Um, sure. I had made plans with Liam. Do you want me to text him and let him know you're coming along?"

"I was thinking just us, if that's cool? Maybe Devin?"

"Oh, uh, sure. That shouldn't be a problem."

I picked up my phone. He knew full well canceling on people was not something I liked to do. And he must have also known Liam hated to be canceled on. So why was I doing this? There was a fragile balance to uphold between us.

"So you're really dating, huh?" he deadpanned.

What? "You know this."

"I mean, yeah, I gathered. But you never explicitly said it."

Counselor, is there a point to this line of questioning?

"You don't talk to me about your girlfriend. Virtually ever." My tone was matter-of-factly, but we both knew this was not a factual issue. I glanced at him sideways through the lock of hair that had come undone from my ponytail.

He didn't look at me, but busied himself with arranging and rearranging his notes. His voice revealed the slightest hint of irritation when he said: "Yeah, well, I didn't think you'd want to hear about her."

"I don't. We're not best friends, that's an open secret. Why, anyway? You and Liam aren't best friends either. Do you want me to talk more about him?"

"If you want to, you can. Doesn't matter to me either way."

What the hell has gotten into him? I narrowed my eyes and opened my mouth to ask what he was getting at when my phone jingled to interrupt this mother of weird conversations. Liam had sent a frowning emoji, then in a second message accepted my offer to come by his suite after dinner.

Fine, I was going, but not without a buffer. Leaning against Devin's doorframe, I rapped on the white painted wood. When he flung open the polished wooden door, he scanned me from head to toe with an amused expression holding a palm to his heart. "Have you finally come to ask me out, Grace?"

I pursed my lips, arching my eyebrows. "Depends. Does the dining hall sound good to you?"

"Why, love, I thought you'd never ask," he quipped in a bad British accent. I rolled my eyes at him.

"I'm coming, too, Devin," John called from the couch. "Sorry to disappoint you."

"Ugh, he's third-wheeling on our date? Fine, the things you do for friends," Devin sighed as he grabbed his jacket and ruffled my hair on the way out.

A sigh of frustration escaped me and I pushed his arm away, taking out my elastic and smoothing my hair back over. John excused himself to the bathroom, but not without flipping the bird to his roommate when Devin mumbled "cockblock," loud enough for him to hear. In the meantime, I flung my backpack over my shoulders and hooked my elbow with Devin's, pulling him out into the hallway to wait.

My voice dropped low and I unhooked my arm from his, looking up at him. "He's in an interesting mood."

Devin arched one eyebrow and ran a hand through his dark curls. "You're doing the thing again where you phrase something as a statement, but a question is lurking around the corner."

'Come on' was plastered all across my face.

"Don't ask me how he's feeling, darlin'. I can't read minds and guys don't talk about that shit. Ask him. Or better yet, ask me how I'm feeling."

I inhaled. "How are you feeling, Devin?"

"Grand. A beautiful woman just asked me out for dinner, delivering me from the evil that is the Middle English epic." In this moment John stepped out and shut the suite door behind him. "The only grievance I have is that my dunce suitemate is crashing the date because he grudges me my happiness with thee."

"Gee, remind me to never ask you about your feelings again." I couldn't stay mad at Devin, but despite his undeniable charisma, he had a way of testing people's patience that would bite him in the ass one day, if it hadn't already.

"Do you guys want to get food or do you want to get a room?" scowled John and started walking, leaving us behind.

Sarcasm dripped from Devin's voice as he slung an arm across my shoulder, pulling me into a quick pace to keep up with John. "What crawled up your ass and died?"

***

"How was dinner?" asked Liam as he gave me a sweet peck on the lips.

"Weird." I dropped my backpack into a corner and hung my jacket on one of the coat hooks on his door, closing it in the process.

As usual, his room smelled faintly of the laundry detergent he used on his sheets, incidentally my favorite brand of detergent. The top of his wood-look dresser held a bottle of citrus hand lotion, a framed Confortale family photo, and Liam's phone and student ID. The stacks of textbooks and notebooks on his desk were color-coded and organized by class and day of the week. A few funny cartoon cutouts his parents had sent him were taped to the wall above his desk. There was not a dirty sock on the floor. In short, his room was neat as always, making for a calming atmosphere.

"Weird how?"

"I don't know. John was in a funny mood. Strange-funny, not haha-funny."

"Hmm," he hummed and pulled me close at the waist. "Well, I'm glad you're here now. No funny business in this room, I promise."

I couldn't help but grin. He knew how to cheer me up.

"But can we watch something funny on Netflix? By the way, Jessica refused to come tonight even after I told her you specifically asked. She said she had forgotten about an essay due on Monday."

"Jessica forgot about an essay? Are we talking about the same person? Are you sure she didn't bail on me?"

"Positive. It has more to do with her wanting to give us time alone or whatever."

"Well, you know Jessica's a good friend and I would never ask her to leave us alone, but... I'm not saying I won't gladly take it."

A mischievous glint lit up his eyes as he pulled me to his bed. There was not a crease in his burgundy comforter until we plopped down on it. I was in Liam's lap while he wrapped an arm around my back and cupped my face with the other hand. His lips found mine swiftly and soon, our tongues were dancing in our mouths. Things got heated quickly and my head tipped back for a breather. I pulled out my ponytail and ran my fingers through my hair that had gotten tangled from Liam's hand slipping into it mid-kiss. He looked flushed and I imagined I looked the same. I was about to say something to him when my phone jingled with an incoming message. I excused myself and checked the screen.

Devin: John is sorry for being such a male genital earlier.

"Who is it?" asked Liam.

"Ah, just Devin," I said and typed a rapid 'He can tell me himself' before placing my phone onto the nightstand. "So what about that movie night you suggested?"

John could stick it. I was not going to let John's bad mood influence me beyond his presence and I was not having his half-hearted apology through Devin. "Two words: police comedy?"

"Yes, fine." Liam grinned and softly pushed me off him to turn on his TV. "Anything for you."

Even though I had turned it on silent, my phone was bothering me throughout the show. I got distracted when a text from John lit up the screen. Liam had little tolerance for people being glued to their phones, especially during time spent together, so I tried my hardest not to check it, at least not constantly.

John: Can I come over? I need to apologize.

Me: You can send Devin.

John: Ur right to be pissed. Please can we talk in person?

Me: I'm still at Liam's.

I was curious to hear what had propelled him to act out and was eager to solve the conflict between us, but it would have to wait. Not everything was about John. Plus, if I left now after already canceling on dinner with Liam because of John, I'd never hear the end of it. Plus, I wanted to be here. If only the precinct's case and personal issues weren't so hard to focus on tonight. Liam's left arm was around my shoulder and his right hand rested on his propped-up knee.

John: I'll be awake for a while. You can let me know when you leave.

"Do you want to watch this or not?" asked Liam in indignation.

"I do." My lips pursed into a pout and I quickly threw my cell face down onto the comforter an arm's length away from me.

"Who is texting you at this hour anyway?" His brows furrowed.

"You know who," I replied quietly and sank a bit further into the cushion, my eyes fixed on his laptop screen again.

Let it go, Liam. Please just drop it. His audible exhale demonstrated he wouldn't.

"What?" My tone was challenging. I didn't want to pick this fight, but his annoyance triggered me in some way. "Do you want me to lie and say it was Jessica?"

"No," he said impatiently, "I want him to not be texting you all the time. And I want you to ignore his messages when we're together."

"Can we please finish this episode?"

"Not before we talk about this issue," Liam insisted, pausing the stream.

Make me. I felt like a petulant child rather than his girlfriend and it irked me.

"There shouldn't be an issue. It shouldn't matter whether I'm texting my friend John or my friend Jessica as long as I'm not doing it excessively, which I'm not."

"It feels like you aren't really here with me."

He's right, I'm not. Guilt gnawed at me and softened my voice.

"I'm sorry if it feels that way, but I am. And because I'm here with you, I don't want to spend that time having this useless fight."

"I just worry."

A few seconds in silence passed in which I was trying to simultaneously swallow my annoyance and my guilt. I was the one making him feel insecure, why did I feel irritated? He had every right to be ticked off, and yet he was only concerned. For us. Jeez, I'm a terrible girlfriend.

"I'm sorry I was on my phone. It's put away now, I'm here."

"Thank you," said Liam and kissed my temple before unpausing the stream.

I didn't dare ask him to rewind a minute so we could see the part we'd missed. A small remainder of discomfort still bubbled in the pit of my stomach, but I forced myself to ignore it. The fight was over, he was right, I was wrong.

***

A light knock on the door interrupted me braiding my hair before bed. I was already in my PJ pants but had kept on my cream-colored knit sweater so as not to look too casual. Holding the three strands of hair with my one hand, I opened the door with the other and motioned for John to take a seat on my bed while I finished my braid and took the elastic from between my teeth to tie it. He picked at a nonexistent piece of fluff on my midnight blue comforter.

"Thanks for letting me stop by this late." John glanced at my alarm clock showing 11:30 pm and scratched his forehead with his thumbnail.

"Of course," I replied sleepily and sat down on the chair at my desk. "What is it?"

"I won't be long, but I wanted to say I'm sorry I was such a douche at dinner tonight. Devin sat me down after and made me realize how shitty I'd acted."

"Can I ask if there was anything in particular that upset you?"

"Upset me? I acted like a complete tool, why are you concerned about me?"

My eyebrows knitted together. I spoke slowly and enunciated each word: "Because you're my friend and I care about you."

John rubbed his palm down his face. "Don't mind me, I'm an idiot and you're too good for me." What? What does he mean by that? "I've... been under a lot of pressure lately, with practice and coursework and midterms. I took it out on you, that wasn't fair. I'm truly sorry."

He was quiet for a second.

"Okay, all good," I said and yawned involuntarily.

"Really? Just like that?"

"Sure. You were in a bad mood, big deal. It happens."

John was stumped for a moment, then shook his head.

"Then let me just say: it's okay if you want to talk about Liam, or if you don't want to talk about him. Whatever you want to do."

My gaze grazed the wall behind him as my eyes turned to the side. "Ohh-kay?"

"Ah, I should have quit while I was ahead. Forget I said anything after the apology. Are we still good?"

"Of course. And you didn't have to deliver the apology in person or right away, you know."

"It was important to me," he shrugged.

"Alright, well, I appreciate it." Rising from my chair, I couldn't help but stretch my back. It had been a long day.

John also stood. The calmness in his voice when he spoke suggested that he, too, was tired. "Can I give you a hug?"

"Always."

I leaned into his open arms and pressed my cheek against his chest, all the more glad I was still wearing a regular sweater and especially a bra underneath. John's arms snaked around my back and his cheek rested on top of my head for a few seconds before we pulled away. The spicy scent of his deodorant left me a little dizzy just as it had the last time I had inhaled it from this close up—no, we're not going there, Grace.

"Good night, John," I whispered to him at the door, leaning against the edge of it.

"Good night, Grace, sleep well."

When he was out of sight, I closed the door and crawled into my bed whose sheets seemed softer and extra inviting tonight. His gentle smile was the last image in my mind before I drifted off to sleep mere minutes after.