I awoke to a finger being repeatedly poked into my cheek. I wrinkled my nose and the poking paused, but when I refused to open my eyes it continued. "Matt," I groaned. "Connie," he groaned back.

"Stooooooop."

"Wake up!"

"Matt, do you…have any idea how much I drank last night?" I started squinting in his general direction.

"Too much!" he squealed. I growled, and flinched away from the sound, beginning to wake up. As my senses came back to me in my hung over state, I realized just how hot and uncomfortable it was to be in a dorm sized bed with Matt (although he was as tall as me and slimmer). "I have to pee," he whined, "and I can't get up till you do."

"Uggggggggh," I moaned, and rolled out of bed, my body slapping the carpet none too gracefully. I closed my eyes and curled up, debating whether to sleep while Matt continued to the bathroom.

"She's inside," I heard Matt say as soon as he opened the door. I lied on my back and titled my head as far back as I could to see who was at the door. The first words of the person's mouth were: "That's attractive, is that how you get all the guys?" he motioned to Matt.

I sat up on the carpet, "Yeah, all the gay ones," I grinned cheekily.

Tyler slid down onto the carpet next to me and there was a moment where we just looked at each other. He looked amazing, although I know he went through the same amount of crazy as I did last night, and from the look of his 5 o' clock shadow he had yet to shower. His black hair was ruffled, his blue eyes bright and he grinned at me in a way that seemed to take up his whole face.

"How's my best friend doing today?" he said it in a baby voice, and pinched my cheek. I scowled and shoved his arm, "Stop being so…chipper."

"Why you're in a such good mood, and looking so nice today!" he motioned to the caramel colored birds nest I called hair, and the fact that I was wearing exactly what I had partied in this morning. "Actually, it's too bad you didn't hook up with anyone," he said, "Because you would make a lovely walk of shame picture." And before I knew it, there was a flash of camera and I was wrestling him to the floor.

"How could you!" I yelled, and reached above him to grab the offending device, which he always seem to have with him. When I finally secured hold of it and wrenched it out of his hands he admonished, "I'm only giving it to you because of how bad you smell this morning."

"You are such a dick," Matt had reentered the room.

"Only to Connie," Tyler grinned.

After promptly deleting the picture, I finally chanced a look in the mirror only to grimace. With as little effort as possible I grabbed make up remover wipes and slowly began removing my face from the night before.

"Get on with it," I said as I rubbed furiously at my left eye.

"So, this girl…" Tyler started and Matt groaned. Before Tyler could continue Matt approached my mirror and asked: "Can I be excused?" I laughed and smiled at him, squeezing his shoulder, "Text me later, kay?"

"We definitely have a library date tonight, babe!" he blew me a kiss and excited the room, looking not the least disgruntled from our previous night of drinking.

It took me my entire right eye to realize Tyler wasn't talking. I turned to him, dirtied make up cloth swiping at my eyelashes and asked: "So? The girl?" He shook his head and continued, "This girl, Connie, she had it all; the tits, the butt, the face. I mean, I might have a second night with her."

"Damn," I nearly sighed. I was less than thrilled to hear about the love of my life's conquests. Sensing my displeasure, he stood and said: "Do you think I have time to shower and shave before we leave for breakfast?"

I shrugged, "You smelled me, what do you think?" He grinned, "I'll come by round ten thirty?"

I nodded and trashed the make up remover to the sound of the door closing.

Sunday's were my favorite days. This status was attributed for many reasons. Despite being hung-over, Tyler and I had a standing brunch date on Sunday's for post-party, pre-school talk. It wasn't really a date, though. It was also my favorite because I typically would spend about three or four hours in the library with Matt (or some various combination of my friends), and I love the library as well as the feeling of accomplishment upon leaving the library. And then it was usually a rest-up, five hour Netflix-sesh.

I was catching up on life via the Internet when Tyler came a-knocking. When I opened the door we again did that thing where we both look at each other. He had shaved and his hair was more styled and he was wearing clean clothes. He smelled super nice - like sharp, spicy cinnamon. He held his arm out for me and I grabbed my purse. As we walked out of the dorm he mentioned, "What an improvement."

"You really are a dick, ya know?"

"Only to you, Connie," and he pecked my cheek.

We have a rule at our Sunday brunches that cell phones are not allowed. And because Tyler was oh-so popular, I stowed his phone (on silent) with my phone (also on silent) in my purse, which was on the floor. Once that business was taken care of I immediately laid my head on the table, letting my wavy caramel bob curtain my face.

And then, once again with the poking.

"Yes?" I peeked my head up.

"If I can't have my cell, you have to entertain me." I rolled my eyes, "You are like a child. I'm super hung-over right now, you entertain me."

"Why did you go so hard last night? You're the responsible one," he made his voice high pitched and did a sassy head thing on that last sentence. I shrugged, attempting to be nonchalant.

"Tell meeeee," he tugged on my hands. I sighed, "It was nothing, Tyler."

"It was a boy, huh," he wiggled his eyebrows impressively, "If it was a boy I can help. I am a boy and am thus an expert on such things." I pulled my hands away and scowled, "It was nothing," I over enunciated each word. He pursed his lips and changed the topic. Which of course, for Tyler, meant photos.

See, Tyler is studying photography and has loved the art of taking pictures ever since he was five and had received his very first disposable camera. At least, that's what he had told me one Sunday when I had snapped: "Why do you always have a camera?" It amazes me that a guy like Tyler can be secure enough to have known what he wanted to do with his life from the age of five, while "responsible" Connie still has zero clues.

Today he was sporting his favorite old-fashioned Polaroid camera. It was a camera that came with the immediacy that soothed Tyler's impatient nerves.

He raised the object to his eye and I ducked my head once more. He chuckled and snapped the picture anyway. I heard it dispense and the paper swish in the air as he rushed its development. He laughed again and said, "You make quite the attractive hung-over college girl." He slid the picture over, smiling, as I looked up.

"I kind of look homeless."

"Attractive and homeless," he winked. And, as if to save me from the terrifying experience of having to respond to such a compliment, our waitress appeared. Her nametag read "Linda". She was stout and thick, with a pile of eighties-styled auburn hair on her head and a yellow uniform.

"Howdy, you two," she pulled out a pad and pen. "What can I get ya'?"

The other tradition of Sunday brunch, or rather the number one rule was: order the greasiest, worst for you food you can find (and that sounds appetizing). So I ordered my standard: chicken friend steak and gravy, scrambled eggs, hash browns and toast. Tyler ordered his regular: three breakfast burritos and biscuits and gravy. The waitress grunted and strode off to the kitchen.

When I looked back at Tyler, I could see a question on the tip of his tongue. When he opened his mouth to speak, a girl's voice came out: "Tyleeeeer, baby! I've been texting you all morning! Where have you beeeeen?" I furrowed my brows and turned to see the cause of the commotion. In strode Ophelia and Rosemary (Rosie) Sparks. I vaguely remembered seeing them last night.

Without an invitation, Ophelia slammed into the booth next to Tyler, squishing herself next to him and Rosie slid in next to me giggling in a very stereotypical sort of way. My mouth hung open and I felt a well of disappointment blossom within me. No one ever crashed our Sunday brunches - not even Matt, who was my best friend (next to Tyler). And Ophelia Sparks and her sister seemed to be the worst possible to show up.

I frowned and let Tyler do all the talking.

"Sorry, I didn't have my phone with me, sweet cheeks." He wrapped his arm around her and Rosie laughed loudly. Sweet cheeks? I thought, freaking sweet cheeks? SWEET CHEEKS? I tried to comprehend what was happening and was caught in my own little world of misery as the events unfolded. I broke from my reverie when Ophelia commanded a waitress: "Excuse me! We need to order!" The worst blow came when I heard their orders: a single egg white and fruit for Ophelia, and spinach and tomato egg white omelet for Rosie. Now, I'm all for healthy eating but not during our greasy Sunday brunch.

After a few minutes of flirting and third-wheel giggling (from Rosie) I decided it would be best to remove myself from the line of fire and leave brunch to Tyler and the Sparks. After getting Rosie to move (with a giant huff of distaste from her) I finally stood outside the booth and picked up my purse. I took out Tyler's phone and, gaining his attention, said: "I'm gonna head out, just cancel my order." I placed the phone on the table and attempted to exit the restaurant gracefully. Which was a failed mission because I stubbed my toe on a table and almost fell on my face, which inspired a great guffaw of laughter from their table and quite a bright shade of red in my cheeks.

Once outside I let the cool air hit my face and I took a deep breath…so much for my favorite day of the week. I slung my bag on my shoulder and went to find a private place to make a phone call.

"Matt," I sobbed, the tears spilling over my face.

"Honey! What's wrong?"

"Tyler - and the Sparks - and then brunch - and I left - and now I'm alone - no ride," I cried incessantly, loud sobs shaking through me. I knew the tears were only making it worse, but god this turned out so disappointing.

"It's okay, sweetie, it's okay - where are you?"

"Connie!" I heard someone yell, and I froze.

"Connie?" Matt asked worry laced in his tone.

I felt a hand touch my shoulder and turn me so that my tear stained face met the sight of the one and only Tyler Brooks. "Connie," he breathed and his hands went to my face and attempted to wipe away the copious amount of tears. I stepped away from him and turned to talk into the phone, "Hey, I'm okay. Let me call you back."

"Okay, sweetheart, make sure you call me!" and the line went dead.

Again, Tyler was super close to me, holding my face in his hands. "What happened in there?" he murmured, still wiping the tears away as they came.

"Nothing," I responded immediately.

"Bullshit," he whispered. I gasped and chewed on my lip as he continued, "Tell me what's happening. You're my best friend Connie, I care about you…" I frowned and a new set of tears sprang to my eyes. I opened my mouth and took a deep breath before pushing out the words I needed to say.

"I drank too much last night because I saw you go into a room with Ophelia. And it really hurt, so I drank to forget. And then she showed up at brunch this morning and, and you called her sweet cheeks and Rosie kept laughing and I couldn't…I couldn't…and just now you called us best friends. I don't want to be best friends, I don't…I can't…but you…" I was sobbing now, reduced to a puddle of tears in his hands.

His forehead touched mine and he sighed a big, deep, sad breath. "What?" I whimpered, heartbroken already. He rubbed his lips together and said: "I didn't sleep with anyone last night…we were going to, but I couldn't follow through with her. I told you I slept with someone to…impress you."

At this I had to laugh loudly, "You what?! You told me you slept with someone to impress me?"

He shrugged and smiled, "Well…I wanted you to think I was cool and girls wanted me, that's why I called Ophelia sweet cheeks…I thought it would make you interested…And that's all I want, all I ever wanted since we first met. I just wanted you to think I was interesting and cool." I grinned and I couldn't stop grinning, "Tyler, you're the coolest person I know," I laughed.

"Really?" he smiled.

"Yeah," I laughed, "I've always wanted to go out with you." And without warning his lips were on mine and we were kissing, and I was holding him close. My arms were wrapped around his neck, his arms wrapped around my waist, our lips melded together in a long overdue kiss. When we finally went up for air and his forehead touched mine he breathed, "That…is the best thing you've ever said, ever."

I chuckled and said: "I have one better," and I murmured, "Kiss me."