Alex knew the second that she set her foot inside his dorm that she would cause trouble. He didn't know how he knew it so immediately, but he did. Everything about her screamed that out to him, from her bleached blonde hair down to her too-short skirt. She was so different from Angie. Angie would never have dyed her hair that color, and she would never have worn a skirt that short, especially in weather this cold. She would never have her stomach sticking out like that, and she would never eye him like a piece of meat.

He smirked in irony as the girl did exactly that—eyeballed him as if he were on display in a store. Angie had done exactly the opposite of eyeball him; she'd snapped at him like she'd hated him all her life. That was the precise moment that he realized that this girl was dangerous, when she checked him out. However, right after she noticed him typing up a paper on his laptop, she draped herself all over his roommate, Sean.

"Hey, baby," she cooed, throwing herself on top of him and kissing him. He had been lying on his bed, pretending to read his textbook but really looking at the porn magazine he had hidden in there. When she'd walked in, he'd hurriedly slammed the book shut and waited for her to do exactly what she had done.

Alex rolled his eyes as their kisses became more heated. Sean always had a different girl each day, it seemed, and Alex was getting tired of it. It was always the same routine: some girl would walk in, throw herself at Sean, and then they'd proceed to do some things that Alex was sure their parents wouldn't approve of. Of course, by the time they got to this last part, Alex was already long gone. Sometimes he went to the library, sometimes he strolled around campus listening to his iPod, and sometimes, if it were after three o'clock, he called Angie.

Hurriedly saving his document and shutting off his laptop, he grabbed his cell phone, his iPod, and his sweatshirt and made his way out the door. He knew he really needed to finish that paper, but he really didn't care right now. According the clock on his cell phone, it was 2:45, meaning that Angie was just getting out of school, though she always forgot to turn her cell phone on until approximately three o'clock.

As he exited his dorm building, a cold blast of air washed over his body. He had known when he decided to go to college in Boston that the winters would be colder and longer, but he still wasn't completely prepared for this type of temperature at the beginning of April. After pulling his sweatshirt over his head and running a hand through his dark hair, he jammed his iPod earplugs into his ears and listened to the first song that came up when he hit Shuffle.

He thought about the look that Sean's girlfriend—though the term hookup was probably more appropriate—had given him. Alex wasn't a stranger to looks of that sort. He was used to receiving a multitude of looks that existed in the same general category. But the look that Sean's hookup had given him was much stronger than he was used to, and it unnerved him.

He reached a bench and sat down, slouching lazily and stretching his legs out in front of him. Though he knew that most guys would kill to have girls look at them like that all the time, the only time he ever really appreciated it was when the same look was on Angie's face. He loved it when he caught her staring at him, occasionally with an incredulous look on her face. Then again, he couldn't really blame her for her incredulity. Often, he couldn't believe that she was his. Even when he held her in his arms, he sometimes just couldn't get over how lucky he was to have her. Hell, if someone had told him when they first met that they'd date for almost two years, he'd have told that person to lay off the drugs. But now . . .

She'd never outright told him that she loved him. He knew he should've been worried about it, but honestly, he wasn't. He knew, even if she didn't tell him, or even if she didn't know it yet, that she loved him, just like he loved her. There was no other reason for why their relationship had lasted as long as it had.

God, he missed her so much. He would do absolutely anything to see her right now. He missed her soft hands. He missed the way her body fit right into his. He missed her silky hair and her sweet smelling perfume. He missed her warm hazel eyes and the feel of her lips on his. But most of all, he missed her—his sarcastic, oblivious Angie who could always make him laugh.

He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, hoping that it was past three. 2:51. Damn. Talking to her was something he always looked forward too. Just hearing her voice made him feel better. His Spring Break was coming up soon, and he was ecstatic about seeing her again, but until then, simply hearing her voice would have to do.

He waited for what felt like hours before checking the time on his cell phone again, but it was only 2:56. Dammit! Was he really so eager to speak with her that minutes seemed to be hours? Man, he thought with a smile, he was really crazy about her.

After two more minutes, he decided to give up waiting and just call her. He sat impatiently on the bench as the phone rang once, twice, three times, before Angie finally answered.

"Hello?" she said, breathless. There was a lot of noise in the background, but that was probably just from all the kids talking after school.

"Hey, gorgeous," he responded, knowing that this always made her blush and wishing he could be there to see it.

"Hi, Alex." The noise in the background died away, and Alex figured she was moving away from all the people so they could talk without all the background noise.

"How was school?" he asked conversationally.

"Please, Alex. Don't turn parental on me."

He chuckled. "Fine. How are you?"

"Okay, I guess. I miss you a lot."

"Me too." He wished he could somehow just get through the stupid phone to be with her.

Angie exhaled loudly. "But what about you? How are you?"

He shrugged, even though he knew that she couldn't see him. "Sean's at it again."

"I figured," she muttered. "Remind me again why you can't switch roommates?"

He laughed again. "Mainly because I didn't apply for a new one. But it's too late now. Besides, Sean isn't a bad guy; he just sleeps around. Lots of guys do."

"Except you," she said quietly, almost as if she were expecting Alex to challenge her.

"Of course, except me! Angie, I love you."

"I know. But I still worry."

He rolled his eyes and sighed. "You think I don't worry either? Leslie tells me you get a lot of date offers."

"Leslie exaggerates," she countered with a snort of laughter. "She tells you I get two a day, right? Well, it's more like two a month."

"That's still a lot."

"You mean to tell me that you don't always have girls throwing themselves at you?"

"Not always." He wished he could have flat out answered no, but then he would have been lying. He did have girls throwing themselves at him, despite the "unavailable" vibes he tried to give out. And the worst part about it was that often, after he told them, the girls either didn't believe him or didn't care.

"Oh, great. So you do have girls throwing themselves at you."

"Angie," he implored. He hated when she got like this. He knew that she knew that he'd never do anything to hurt her.

"Sorry." She sighed. "I'm just jealous that they even have the opportunity to throw themselves at you while I'm stuck thousands of miles away."

"I love you."

"I know."

"I miss you."

"I know."

"I'll see you soon."

She paused, as if considering this. "I know."

He should have gotten out of it while he could.

That was the one thing running through Alex's mind as he sat there two days later, still trying to finish that paper. Except this time, Sean's latest girlfriend, the same girl who had given Alex The Look, was lying on Sean's bed, casually conversing with Alex. Actually, it wasn't much like a conversation. The girl, whose name was Lydia, was just blabbering on and on, while Alex hummed a response every now and then. He had a pile of notes spread out around him, and he was concentrating more on those than on Lydia's words. Mentally, he was berating himself for not simply going to the library when she arrived.

Although he hadn't exactly expected her to stick around. He thought she would leave as soon as she found out that Sean wasn't here, but she hadn't, telling Alex that she'd just wait for him until he returned. Even after Alex told her that he was pretty sure Sean wouldn't be back for a while, she insisted on staying.

"I'm serious, Lydia," Alex said distractedly, after she'd just finished a long-winded speech about Paris Hilton. "Sean's not gonna be back for a long time."

"I figured," she replied, rolling over onto her stomach. At least she wasn't wearing a super-short skirt, Alex thought, even if her jeans seemed tighter than normal. "Can't I just talk to you?"

"Well, if you can't tell, I'm trying to write a paper," he snapped, not bothering to conceal his frustration. He reread the last paragraph he had written, realized that a lot of it had to do with Paris Hilton, and furiously deleted it. Damn it. He wasn't going to get anything done if this chick refused to leave.

"So, Alex. Tell me about your girlfriend," Lydia requested casually, completely ignoring his previous statement.

"Her name's Angie," he told her curtly, then accidentally wrote "Angie" in the sentence he was currently working on. He sighed; he usually didn't get this distracted. Maybe he should just take a break. Besides, the paper could wait, he decided.

Exhaling loudly, he leaned back in his chair. He just missed Angie even more now.

"Angie," she repeated. Alex didn't like the way she said his girlfriend's name. He couldn't put his finger on what exactly about her tone of voice that irked him, but nevertheless, it did.

"What school does she go to?" Lydia continued to ask.

"She's still in high school."

"Oh." Alex wasn't sure, but Lydia seemed pleased at his answer. "What grade?"

"Senior." He eyed his paper, spotted a mistake, and leaned over to fix it.

"Where's the school?"

"Maryland." Alex stood up and stretched. This paper was driving him insane. Instead of sitting down in front of his laptop again, only to have the damned thing stare him in the face, he instead opted to rest on his bed with his back against the wall at the head of the bed. All this talk about Angie wasn't helping him any. It just made him realize even more how much he missed her.

"So she's really far away. That sucks," Lydia said with something in her voice that Alex thought was either sympathy or delight. He couldn't really tell.

"Yeah," he agreed, "it does." With startling clarity, he recalled every moment of his departure in January, when his Winter Break ended and he was headed back to school. He remembered everything, from the way her mouth felt against his own down to the way she smelled, like that sexy perfume that made him go crazy. He even remembered the faint scent of pizza in the air, coming from a nearby pizza place built into the airport.

Before he even realized it was happening, Lydia had squished herself next to Alex on his bed, resting her head on his shoulder. He knew it was wrong, but he also didn't know what to make of it. He thought that maybe Lydia was trying to be sympathetic, so he just let her sit there next to him, using his shoulder as her headrest.

"How'd you know I had a girlfriend anyway?" he asked, suddenly noticing that her hair smelled really nice.

"Oh, Sean told me."

"Really." He couldn't help but wonder when they actually talked, since he doubted that they shared things like these during sex. But then again, it wasn't really his business.

"Yeah. He said you guys were really into each other." She turned onto her side, so her front was pressed against Alex's side, and laid her hand on his chest. Now he knew this was wrong. This was too close and too personal.

"Lydia—" he began, intending to ask her to get off of him, but before he knew it, she was on top of him, her brown eyes staring right into his green ones.

"Your girlfriend's not here to give you what you need," she murmured before kissing him. He was so surprised that he didn't really know how to react at first. But he knew that this was wrong, and the second that the initial shock wore off, he pushed her away from him. She sat up, straddling his waist, and gave him a coquettish smile.

"What are you doing?" he asked, bewildered, although it was quite obvious.

"Satisfying you," she answered with the same sort of smile.

"I have a girlfriend," he told her, even though he knew that she already knew. However, it was the only thing he could think of to say.

"I know." She pulled off her shirt right then, revealing a lacy bra that Alex presumed was supposed to turn him on, although it didn't. Actually, the only thing he could think of right then was how he was sure that Angie didn't own anything like that.

Lydia leaned down close to him, pushing up his shirt as she did. "But she's not here, is she?"

Alex struggled to pull his shirt back down, and he turned his head to the side so that Lydia's lips wouldn't be so close to his. This was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

"Get off of me, Lydia," he ordered, trying to push her off of him.

"You want it," she whispered in his ear. The warm breath caused him to shiver, but he tried as hard as he could not to because he knew it would give Lydia the wrong signal.

"What about Sean?"

"I'm doing his roommate a favor."

Calling upon his strength, he braced his arms on the bedspread and pushed himself up until he was sitting completely upright. Lydia's eyes widened a bit, but she remained where she was at his waist.

Just then, his phone rang, startlingly loud and clear, from the desk. Alex worriedly glanced at the clock, then realized that Angie had promised to call sometime around this time.

"Get off," he commanded again, more forcefully, trying to pull his legs out from under Lydia. Surprisingly, she hopped right off. Alex was grateful at first, until she went over to the desk and answered his phone.

"Hello?" she said, standing right there in her bra. Alex felt a pang in his chest as he wished that she were Angie instead.

"No, Angie, you have the right number," she continued, shooting a look at Alex. His eyes widened as he sprang off the bed and lunged for the phone, but Lydia dodged him.

"This isn't funny, Lydia," he said through gritted teeth, glaring at her.

She shrugged and glanced at him victoriously. "No, I'm sorry, you can't. We were just about to have sex." With that, she hung up the phone and placed it back on his desk, smiling jauntily up at him.

He incredulously stared at the phone. "What the fuck," he began angrily, turning to face Lydia, "did you just do?" He couldn't believe that had just happened. Angie would never forgive him. Hell, he'd never forgive himself. That was it, though. He was sure. Angie would dump him and refuse to ever take him back. Just like that. He felt like the world had just ended.

"I told her the truth," Lydia said, reaching up and tracing a finger along his jaw line.

"No." He pushed her away and moved to the other side of the room, as far away as he could possibly get from her. "That was not the truth."

"Then let's make it the truth." Her visage was falsely innocent. "I'd hate to lie."

Alex was seething now, wishing more than he'd ever wished before that it was okay to hit a girl.

"Get. Out. Of. My. Room," he demanded slowly. He was losing his temper—something that did not happen often. He was usually good at keeping his anger in check, but right now he was ready to lash out at anything. If Lydia didn't leave soon, he wasn't sure he'd be able to restrain himself from hitting her.

"It's Sean's room, too," she retorted with infuriating calmness.

"Sean's not here."

She shrugged. "Fine then. I'll leave." Pulling her shirt on, she walked over to the door, but paused and looked up at Alex as her hand gripped the doorknob. "If you ever change your mind, just let me know." With a wink, she was out the door, gently closing it behind her.

Now, with Lydia gone, Alex's anger vanished, leaving him with nothing but desolation and depression. He picked up his cell phone and tried to call Angie, but she didn't answer. That was it, he thought gloomily. It was over.

The knowledge that it was over did not stop Alex from calling Angie ten more times within the next hour and a half. Each time, he listened to the rings anxiously, praying that maybe this time, she'd answer and he could explain himself. But each time, it kept on ringing until he heard her voicemail, at which point he would hang up, deflated.

He was staring at his phone, wondering if maybe he should try again, when suddenly, it rang. He knew that he was being overly optimistic when he hoped that it was Angie calling, but even still, when he saw Leslie's name on the caller ID, he felt even more depressed. She was probably just calling to chew him out until his ear fell off.

"Get it all out of your system now, Leslie," he said dejectedly when he answered the phone, "and I'll explain it when you're done."

"What the hell is your problem? Why the fuck did a girl answer your phone and say that you were about to have sex? Right now, I don't even care if you did or not. I just wanna know why!" She paused. She sounded finished, but Alex knew that there was a lot more coming, so he said nothing.

"I mean, all of a sudden I get this phone call from Angie, and she's in hysterics, telling me that she called you when she said she would, but a fucking girl answers your cell phone! If I weren't in Maryland I would march right over to your dorm room and rip your head off! I can't believe you, Alex!"

Thinking Leslie was finished, he opened his mouth to say something. But Leslie continued, cutting him off before he even started.

"I guess it wouldn't have been that bad if the girl had given the phone to you, or something. But she didn't! No, instead she says 'We're about to have sex' and hangs up. What the hell, Alex? So did you? Did you sleep with that girl?"

"No, Leslie, I didn't. Do you seriously think I could do that to Angie?"

"I used to think you couldn't . . ."

"Leslie, please. You have to believe me."

There a long, nerve-wracking silence from Leslie. Finally, after what seemed like forever, she sighed loudly. "I believe you. If you guys really were about to procreate, I doubt she would've been worried about answering your phone. Just explain to me what the hell happened."

Alex told her the story from beginning to end, starting with the time that Lydia had walked into his room today. When he finished recounting what had happened, Leslie exhaled noisily.

"God, men are stupid," she muttered irritably.

"I heard that, you know," Alex said.

"Good! Because you're stupid, too! You couldn't tell that this Lydia chick was about to throw herself at you?"

He frowned. "No. Should I have?"

"Yes, you should have, you moron. And you know that winning back Angie is going to be ten times harder than convincing me, right?"

He sighed heavily. "I know. I'm screwed."

"No, you're not."

"I'm not?"

"No. Angie cares a lot more about you than you probably know."

"Okay . . . what's your point?"

She heaved an even louder sigh. "Just think, Alex."

And he did.

One week later, Alex was sitting on a plane that had just landed at an airport in Baltimore. His Spring Break had finally arrived, and with it, the time to win back Angie. He knew it was naïve and futile to think she might have come to meet him at the airport, but he still couldn't help feeling upset when his mother informed him that Angie had been too sick to come.

"I'm sorry, Alex," his mother had said. "She said she really wanted to come, but was afraid of getting us sick, too." He had rolled his eyes at that. He was betting that Angie felt 100 percent okay. If she had finished grieving, that is.

The second the plane began emptying of passengers, he sped his way through, hurrying down to the baggage claim as fast as he could. The quicker that he finished at the airport, the quicker he could go see Angie again. He rushed through the motions: reuniting with his family; claiming his luggage; even walking out to the car. His parents had to have known something was up when he barked at his father for driving slowly when, in reality, his father was fifteen miles per hour above the speed limit; but if they did, they didn't say anything. Alex figured they thought that he was concerned over Angie. Which he was, just not because she was "sick."

Right when he got home, he rushed into his room, exchanging the shirt he was wearing for one that Angie had bought him. After taking a small box out of his carry-on bag and stuffing it in his pocket, he called Leslie.

"Should I go now? Is she home?" he asked as soon as she answered.

"She's home," Leslie laughed. "As far as I know, she's been home all day, wallowing."

"Wallowing?" he echoed hopefully.

"She misses you, Alex. And yes, you should go now. Unless you want to go later."

"No, no. I'm going now."

"Talk to you later, then. Good luck, and call me when you leave so I know how it went."

"Yeah. Bye." He shoved the phone down his other pocket, then hustled down the stairs.

"Mom?" he called out. "I'm going over to Angie's!"

His mother appeared in the doorway to the family room. "Are you sure, Alex?" she asked with a frown. "I don't want you to catch anything."

"I'll be fine," he assured her. He turned around and was just about to leave when his mother called him back.

"Oh, and Alex?"


"Drive safely."

He smirked as he realized she must be talking about his yelling at his father for driving slowly while his father was actually driving fast.

"Don't worry, Mom."

He left the house and drove over to Angie's, forcing himself not to go at 100 miles per hour like he wanted. Nevertheless, he arrived at her house in record time, and soon found himself standing on her front porch. This was it. Giving his pocket a reassuring pat, he pushed the doorbell.

He didn't realize that he was holding his breath until Angie swung the door open, and the air whooshed out of him. Her wavy brown hair was tied back in a messy bun, though she still had a few rebellious hairs that refused to stay back and instead fell around her face. She was wearing one of his sweatshirts that he'd given her some time ago that was so long it almost completely covered up the shorts she was wearing. In her hand she clutched a chocolate bar. Her eyes widened to twice their normal size when they saw him standing there.

He'd been waiting forever—well actually, three months—for this moment. For the time he finally saw her again. There were so many things he wanted to do, number one being sweep her into his arms and kiss her, much like a movie. Unfortunately, he couldn't do anything. He couldn't even touch her yet. Not until she forgave him.

"Hi, Angie," he said nervously, stepping into her house before she could slam the door in his face.

She narrowed her eyes and closed the door behind him. "Why did you lie?" she asked bluntly, crossing her arms over her chest.

That messed up part one of the plan.

"Lie? I didn't lie," he said.

"Really? You didn't? Because you told me you weren't sleeping around." Man, she was pissed. It hurt Alex even more to know that she was pissed because of him.

"I wasn't." He tried not to sound defensive, because he knew that would only incense her further.

"Then what about that girl? Oh, I get it. You were only sleeping with her. That's not sleeping around.

"I wasn't sleeping with her. I didn't sleep with anyone."

"You knew I was gonna call then, too!" Her sorrow was getting the best of her. He could tell. Her eyes were wet, and her voice hinted at tears. "You knew! So why was she there? Are you trying to break up with me?"

"No, Angie. No." He took a step towards her. "I love you."

She blinked, and tears started to roll down her cheeks. Ashamed, she turned her head away. "Funny, I used to believe you when you said that."

Those words tore him apart. This was killing him. He couldn't stand to see her cry. He wanted to hold her and wipe the tears from her face. He wanted to whisper in her ear that everything would be okay.

"I love you," he reiterated. Even though he knew that he shouldn't, he reached an arm out to her. She stepped back from him. "Please. Let me explain," he begged.

She turned away from him, her back to him now. "Fine. Explain."

He had practiced this part. He had literally repeated this scene over and over in his mind, until he knew exactly what he was going to say. But now, with those words about to burst out of him, he couldn't say them anymore. So he just spoke. He said whatever came to his mind.

"I was just sitting in my room when Sean's girlfriend came in and started talking to me. At first, I just ignored her, but when she started asking me questions about you, I started to actually talk to her. The next thing I knew, she was trying to kiss me, telling that you weren't there to satisfy me, but I pushed her away. And when she took off her shirt—" she stiffened, and Alex knew he was in dangerous territory "—you know what I thought?"

She didn't answer, but he wanted her to say something, so he repeated himself. "Do you know what I thought?"

"What?" she asked in a flat voice.

"I thought, I don't think Angie has a bra like that." He heard a sniffle of laughter, and he knew that things were looking up. "And you know why?"


"You know why. Tell me why." He wanted to hear it from her. He wanted her to say it. To tell him. To admit to it.

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do. I know you do. Tell me why."

She spun back around, so he could see her beautiful face. Her beautiful hazel eyes and her beautiful brown hair. Her face was streaked with tears, and it was all he could do not to go over there and crush his lips against hers.

"Because you love me," she stated, not even phrasing it like a question.

"Because I love you," he repeated. "Because I can't stop loving you. Because I spent every second of the day thinking about you. Hell, I even dreamed about you."

". . . Then how come she answered your phone?" she asked quietly.

"She got to it before I did. I wish I could take it back. I called you thousands of times, Angie. Why didn't you let me explain?"

"Because I thought you stopped loving me," she said, still using a hushed voice. He looked at her face, and he knew that she loved him back. Why else would she care if he stopped loving her? Even if she didn't say it, he knew it, almost as surely as he knew that he loved her.

"That's impossible," he said, shaking his head. He reached down into his pocket and withdrew the small box. Angie stared at it with wide eyes.

"Now I know that most guys buy chocolate . . ." he began as he neared her. She remained rooted to the spot, her eyes glued to the box. ". . . but I figured you'd be sick of chocolate." He nodded his head towards the chocolate bar still in her hand. She blushed and stuffed the candy bar into the front pocket of her—formerly his—sweatshirt.

"Besides." He was standing right in front of her now. "Chocolate's gone forever once you eat it. But this is there forever." Here, he opened up the box revealing a silver necklace with a diamond pendent. It had cost him a lot of money, depriving his bank account of dollars that he needed, but he knew that getting Angie back was worth it.

She still hadn't moved, except for her eyes that were now bulging out of her head as she gaped at the necklace. He was about to ask her if she liked it, when she suddenly went, "Oh my God," and clapped her hands over her mouth. After ogling some more, she took the box out of his hands.

"Alex . . ."

"You like it?"

"I can't believe . . . you shouldn't have . . . oh my God."

He smiled, took the necklace out of the box, and clasped it around her neck.

"Alex," she said again, fingering the pendent and looking down at it. He lightly pushed her chin up until their eyes met.

"I missed you," he whispered quietly. They stared at each other a few moments longer before he dropped his head just as she lifted hers, and their lips met. Immediately, the kiss was heated and passionate. Alex had been waiting far too long for it to be a simple, chaste kiss. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he lifted her up off the ground and spun her around. He'd waited forever for this moment, and, now that it was here, he never wanted it to stop.

Hi, friends. This one-shot brings about a couple of firsts for me: my first non-suckie attempt at third person; and my first time writing from a guy's point of view. I'm not sure how accurate it is for the second reason, but it's the product my best efforts, and I had a couple of friends look over it to tell me what they think.

And I'm not a big fan of the title, but I was utterly stumped when trying to come with one. So if you have a suggestion, or even just like the title as it is, please let me know.

In case you're wondering, this is during Alex's freshman year in college. If you've read Fateful Friday, then this is one of those one-shots that were swarming aorund in my head. If you haven't, then hopefully you were still able to follow this, because, although I wrote it as a type of supplement to FF, I intended it to be perfectly comprehensible as a standalone. If it wasn't the latter, then please let me know and constructively criticize me on how I could fix that. Hehe.

Hope you enjoy :)