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Chapter Text

I am not one to back down from a fight. My grandfather used to me tell that “law ran through my blood”. I was always coming up with an argument to everything as a kid, growing up to be even more stubborn and argumentative. I guess that’s why I’ve been so adamant about pursuing a career in law.

I had always applied myself, aiming myself at Ivy League scholarships since I was thirteen. My family didn’t have the finances to pay for a private university education for me. My dad was an intense gambler, wanting to secure my university funds but never having the luck. So whenever I would feel as if things would get better, that I’d have a chance without the constant added pressure, the rug would be pulled out from underneath myself. The last time my dad lost my university savings that he had previously won on a “lucky night” in Atlantic City. admittedly, I went into overload. It started out as popping Addies to help focus but with a few wrong turns and a few wrong people, it spiralled as all fragile things do. My GPA tanked, and so did my chances of obtaining a scholarship. And so, I conceded and went to a public university in Wyoming.

Once my aunt died, her fortune practically fell into our laps - there it was, what I had been looking for this entire time. A life jacket was thrown to me within the Pacific, and I held on for dear fucking life.

Now, I knew I had to get my shit together. But what can I say? I had faced the stress of a strained high school experience and an even worse two first years of university in Wyoming, falling in with the wrong crowd and, when my dad fell sick and died after being diagnosed with lung cancer, the grief hit me so hard I couldn’t breathe anymore. I tried so hard to get him to quit smoking.

My life line was what destroyed me, providing me with my only oxygen. I could breathe again. Of course, this didn’t stay the case for long.

After our inheritance, my mom intervened and bribed the nepotist Dean of Belvoire University, the most esteemed institution in New York, Marguerite Steinhelm. Of course, I didn’t know this yet, my mom swore I would never find out, instead telling me she demonstrated my previous work ethic, telling the Dean I was getting back on track and Steinhelm commended this. I should’ve known that was too easy, that a powerful figure such as Steinhelm wouldn’t be swayed as such - but I knew better than anyone, you take whatever you can get, no second thoughts.

Upon entering Belvoire, I immediately felt out of my element. There were polished, shimmering marble pillars rising from the ground, holding the equally polished faculty buildings above them, an Olympus in comparison to rural Wyoming. My university in Wyoming had dirt tracks for paths, Belvoire had a marble sheen on their paths.

I’m not fucking stupid. For a second, only for a second, I was glad I slipped up and became the party girl I did, then becoming the Queen Bee in my old, public university and in high school. It meant that I knew I had to dress to impress at this school, taking pride in my appearance at all times. I came equipped and looking like a bad bitch in my black Chanel mini-dress, a pair of my favourite black stilettos and a shiny gold bee necklace around my neck, just to remind people I run this shit. I know I should never say this, but thank god for my Aunt’s heart attack.

My chauffeur helped me carry my piles of bags to my dorm within the Winfrey complex, opening the door to her my new home. Of course I thanked him, I may be a bitch but damn.

I never would have expected what was on the other side of the door, a penthouse-ésque fucking dorm room. The apartment was open plan, sleek marble counters lining the kitchen, a huge black couch in the living room to the left, a flat screen TV, the works. I cannot wait to binge Love Island on that TV, I get to see abs and emotional breakdowns in 4K.

“Hi.” I heard from behind me.

Spinning around to face my company, I was greeted with a pearlescent smile and two of the friendliest brown eyes I’d ever seen. Shit this girl was gorgeous.

“I’m Zoey.” The stranger said when I didn’t answer.

Fuck Bea say something, don’t be an awkward idiot.

“Hi.” I replied back.

Hi? That’s IT?

“Wow, you sure sound overjoyed to meet me.”

I took a deep breath, “I’m sorry. Let me start over, I’m just a little dazed. You know, new school, new—“, I cut myself off. I was rambling. “I’m Bea.” I said with a small smile.

“Nice to meet you Bea.”

A pause. “Joint?” I asked as I reached into my pocket.

“I can already tell we’ll be best friends.”

—

Later, Zoey and I made our way to one of the sorority parties raging before the school year officially started. I was glad I clicked with someone already, you always bond with someone over a shared joint.

Or maybe that was the weed talking.

“Can I do your makeup?”

“My makeup? What am I making up for?”

“Zeta party. Hell-ooo!”

I looked hot. We both did. I was wearing my lucky strappy white mini dress, white eyeliner around my eyes with a thin stripe of blue eyeliner on top to accentuate my blue eyes, rhinestones stuck on the sides of my eyes at the end of my eyeliner.

Entering the sorority house, the ‘Zetas’, I knew a university filled to the brim with spoiled, Addie popping rich kids who could afford all the drugs and alcohol they wanted may not have been the best environment for me. Poor choice Bea, you absolute airhead.

I liked to convince myself I had the full intention of staying clean, but I knew that wasn’t true. Not here. Not when I could see the white coats underneath the partygoers noses, the unmistakable glazed eyes that only a line could give you, the sweat dripping from your forehead.

The strobe lights flickered so fast everything felt like it was being captured within a shutter. It made it feel as if time was slowing, seeing the colours and the bodies momentarily before being plunged into darkness for a split second, a new colour cascading off of them the next.

Red, purple, blue, purple, red, purple, blue. All within a second.

Who am I kidding, it was fucking lights. No biggie.

“Bea, over here.” I heard called out to me from my right.

Looking over, I found Zoey standing at the kitchen bar surrounded by other partygoers, two shots in her hands. Walking over, I grabbed one from Zoey’s hand with a smirk.

“You speak my language.” I said before tipping my head back, allowing the burning drink to pour down my throat. With a shiver, I slammed the glass down and grabbed another, repeating the motion.

Shit that stuff is strong.

After a few minutes of drinking and talking, a voice called to the us.

“You two ladies looking for something a little harder?” It asked. Zoey and I both turned to face the source of the voice, finding a blonde boy, perfectly shaved. Clean. Hot.

“Sorry Liam, most I do is weed. It’s good for my aura.” Zoey replied, looking to me, expectantly waiting for a reply.

‘Liam’ looked me up and down. His blue eyes reflected the lights of the party so clearly. Red, purple, blue, purple, red, purple, blue - all in his eyes.

“No I— it’s not for me.” Liar.

Liam smiled warmly, genuinely.

“That’s alright. It’s not for everyone.”

Little did he know.

He slowly got up and made his way over to me, still smiling.

“You’re the new girl, Bea Hughes, right?”

“Yeah. How’d you know?”

He laughed. Not in a mocking or demeaning manner, but softly.

“Everyone knows everything about everyone here.”

Foreboding.

“Damn, better make sure I deleted all my pornos off the Internet then.”

Liam laughed at this and extended his hand.

“Dance with me?”

I looked at Zoey, my eyebrow quirked, a silent, ‘is that ok?’. Zoey smiled and raised her eyebrows back, a silent agreement as she then turned to some raven haired girl, the ends of her hair a gradient from black to silver to white.

Liam led me to the dance floor, his hands landing on my waist as my back turned to his front, my hands pulling through his hair on the back of his head to rest on his neck. I could feel his chest press against the top of my back and his hands sliding down my waist to rest on my hips.

He was enticing, I’ll give him that.

His lips began slowly scraping along the side of my neck. I turned to face him and his hand landed on the side of my face gently, pushing the hair from my face and shouting over the music.

“Did you mean what you said? You don’t do drugs?”

Yes.

No.

I quirked my eyebrow at him in challenge.

“What does it matter to you?”

Liam smirked, his eyes remaining locked to mine as he then leaned in to graze my ear with his lips.

“I think we’d have more fun if we were fucked up.”

I couldn’t agree more.

“What did you have in mind?”

Liam pulled a small, blue tablet out of his pocket with the unmistakable indented snowflake. Molly.

Putting it between his teeth in challenge, I wildly accepted, leaning in quickly to pluck it with my own teeth, my hand flying to around the back of his neck again as I swallowed it, us now beginning to kiss in the middle of the dance floor. I felt relief immediately. His tongue swirled with my own as his hands roamed the span of my waist and hips.

Why so dainty, Liam?

My hands slid upwards to his hair, pulling lightly and yanking, his mouth falling open as he gasped.

—

I didn’t know how much time passed, all I knew was that I was having fun within the absolute cascade and blur of bodies. The music sounded better. The lights were brighter. The drinks tasted better. The people were hotter.

But I didn’t need molly to know how hot the girl holding my waist from behind was.

We ground on each other, the blonde behind clad in pink Chanel, smelling like Chanel N°5 too, sucking and biting on my ear lobe, pushing my blonde hair out of the way.

Would it be weird if I told her how good she smells?

In return, I ran my hand through the other girl’s hair, yanking every time she bit me a little too hard, earning a hiss from her every time as she delved right back in.

Eventually, I spun around and began kissing the stranger. Her lips tasted like cherry, full and soft with a desperation, a need - an absolute need for control. They were firm and demanding as fuck. I liked that.

Next minute, we were in one of the bedrooms upstairs, her on top of me straddling my lap, her hands looped around the back of my neck, one hand running through my hair as I gripped her hips. The girl in pink planted her hand on my chest and quickly pushed me onto my back. Not one for taking things slow.

I could feel my heartbeat rising somehow even higher as she rid both of us of our clothes, kissing and sucking on my neck to leave marks.

“Possessive?” I breathed out. That was the first thing we had said to each other.

As the girl kissed down my stomach, letting her teeth and tongue scrape down, she looked up to make eye contact with me before answering, kissing my inner thighs between words.

“I want to see where my lips have been after I fuck you.”

Her voice was low and silky and she talked slowly. I shivered at her kisses and her voice as she slowly made her way up from my thighs, holding her mouth just in front of my pulsing centre as she looked from it to my eyes.

“Is this ok?” She asked as she grabbed my thighs. She hadn’t been gentle this entire time, yet there was only softness in her voice now. I grabbed the back of her head and pushed it to my centre in response.

She smirked up at me, considering that her answer, and took a long lick of my centre from my opening up to my clit, my arousal clearly evident on her tongue.

When the fuck did I get so horny? Does molly make you wetter?

I moaned loudly as the girl began slowly moving her tongue anti-clockwise around my clit, stopping every few seconds to flick her tongue over it and then suck on it. I liked rhythm.

I could feel my body begin to tense, my legs wrapping around her head as my hips began to buck against her mouth. She pressed her hand to my hips and pushed me back down. As I complied, my hips remaining stuck to the bed, my moans growing louder and higher pitch, I heard the girl’s voice again.

“Good girl.”

And that was enough.

My fucking praise kink, god damn. It’s been like five minutes; you are not a straight man.

I cried out with one more lick to my centre, grabbing the girl’s hair, keeping her close as she moaned into my centre, looking up at me as I finished. She slowed her licks, allowing me to come down from my high, then detached her mouth from my centre and crawled between my open legs, remaining above me, her hair cascading down to me as she kissed me, allowing me to taste myself.

As I was regaining my breath, she began grinding on my thigh, her arousal coating it. I flipped us over, her spreading her legs for me as I kissed her neck and chest, my lips closing around the girl’s nipple and my tongue flicking over them, eliciting a moan from the girl underneath me.

I brought my hand to her core, collecting her arousal on two of my fingers before circling her entrance and slipping my middle finger inside as my thumb worked her clit. She moaned into my mouth.

“Another.”

She ground down onto my hand as I added a second finger, a loud moan being sent into the room as she broke away from my lips. Her grinding became erratic as I sped up, and with every stroke of my fingers and flick of my thumb, she moaned loudly.

I felt the girl beneath me tense, her legs clamping down on my hand as she let out a cry, her head tipping back and her hips lifting off the bed.

While she was regaining her composure, I slowly retracted my fingers, sucking on them as the girl looked at me with dazed eyes, me then pushing them into her mouth, allowing her to suck her own taste off of them.

After a few minutes of us lying together, me on top of the girl, listening to her hammering heart slow, she got up, depositing me on the bed again.

“Hey- where are you going?” I asked as she slipped her clothes back on, combing her fingers through her messed up hair to perfection again, wiping my lipgloss off of just below her lips with her thumb.

“I have a party to run.” She stopped at the door, the light wrapping around her like a halo. A halo around her entirety.

Why do I feel this is going to be very ironic?

“Be out of my bed by the time I come back.”

I knew this was a one time thing, but I had to know-

“What’s your name?”

The girl smirked at me, her eyes looking like a cat’s, ready to pounce.

“Poppy Min-Sinclair, and don’t you forget it.”

Chapter Text

Poppy Min-Sinclair. Now that’s the most pretentious name I’ve ever heard.

She was beautiful, the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen. I’m no liar, I can admit that. The way she kissed me, shit. The way her hands ran down me, how her tongue—

“Poppy Min-Sinclair is the biggest bitch to ever exist.” Zoey snapped me out of my daydream. I had zoned out a few minutes ago while she was droning on about how awful of a person Poppy is.

“How?”

“All she cares about is exercising just how much richer and more stuck up she is.”

Damn.

“She can’t have many friends if she’s like that.” Can she?

“No, but her so called ‘friends’ are the dumbest lot. They’ll follow her because she’s popular.”

I guess Zoey could tell I was in my head. I had told her about hooking up with Poppy, of course, holding back all the details. She covered her ears as soon as I tried to tell her all about what she did with her tong—

“No. No, no no. I can tell what you’re thinking about and stop it.”

I laughed and swatted her arm as she dry heaved. I was glad we were already becoming close, I felt very at home with Zoey, didn’t feel the need to pretend like I normally did. She was comfortable. She was safe.

That’s something I hadn’t felt for a long time.

“You and Liam seemed to be getting pretty close.”

Liam? Shit, Liam!

I suddenly dug into my pocket to pull out my phone.

His hands pulled away from me as he spotted one of his friends calling him over.

“Shit, I have to go, I think my bros need some help getting Ford back to the house.”

I told him that was alright, he should help his friend.

“Can I give you my number so you can text me when you get back to your place? If I supplied the molly, I gotta make sure you get back to your room in one piece.”

I smiled and nodded, letting him enter his number into my contacts.

I texted him quickly; it was now 2:04PM the next day and I had just gotten out of bed. My head was fucking hammering.

Bea: hey sorry got home pretty late and crashed, forgot to text u

how’s ur friend?

Liam: heyyy how u doing, nw tho i’m just glad ur alright

he’s good lol just needs some r&r yk the drill

Bea: oh i def do, needing some rn myself

Liam: let me take u out i’ll show u the good places

Bea: winfrey complex 12b

Liam: be there in 10 ;)

“Liam’s picking me up in 10.” I told Zoey.

She smiled deviously back at me.

“Oh girl you are so getting it.”

“No! Zoey, this is just him helping me out.” Even I didn’t believe that.

“Helping that pussy out, yeah.”

I smacked her arm.

“I’m gonna go change then I’ll be heading out.”

During the healing of addiction, you find yourself becoming obsessed with anything. You latch onto something or someone that can give you that high. I recognised it - I knew it was there. I knew I simply transferred my addiction to something else, but I was helpless to stop it.

No matter if you tell yourself ‘no, you can’t do this’ sometimes your brain separates from yourself. You become two entities screaming two different things. One side wants the addiction, wants that unmatchable high you get when you pop a pill, snort a line, kiss the guy. The other screams that you’re being stupid. You need to form a healthy connection. No more fucking addiction bond - but that takes a lot of work.

—

“How are you feeling? You had just as much as I did I think.”

Liam looked at me and smiled as we walked side by side down the sidewalk of New York. He knew we needed fresh air.

“I don’t know if you saw these babies,” he showed me his muscles, rolling up his long sleeved shirt, “but I’m a little more of a heavy weight. Got a lot of muscle.”

I smirked and felt his arm.

“You sure about that? Not feeling a whole lot here.”

He pouted, his bottom lip hurting out.

“Oh don’t pull that crap on me.”

We both softly laughed and began walking side by side again.

The sidewalk was busy. In my head, it parted for the two of us, but no matter the designer we, or I wore, I guess outside of Belvoire we were just people. I always felt myself shrinking to inside my head, imagining myself as bigger than I was, heads turning for me every which way I looked. In reality, in the rest of Manhattan and the world, I was just Bea Hughes.

For now.

I’ve definitely come a long way from Wyoming.

Eventually, after telling each other all about our first weed-induced experiences and laughing so hard we earned some weird stares from passersby, we reached our destination. It was a 90’s diner with black and white tiled floors, fluorescent lights beaming off of every surface. I liked it. I knew most people at Belvoire would look down on a place like this, so why did Liam insist on taking me here? Why not some fancy restaurant with a tasting menu - something serving some pretentious shit like that truffled La Bonnotte gratin I tried when we went to our first fancy restaurant ever.

Rich people make everything sound pretentious. It was literally just baked potatoes with truffle on it.

Gross.

“It doesn’t look like much, but I swear their burgers can cure even the worst of hangovers and…” he cleared his throat and lowered his voice “… any other comedown.”

I smiled at him and leaned into him slightly. He smelled like Givenchy cologne. I recognised the smell of Garçon Manqué after my hometown friend stole a bottle from Frontier Mall in Cheyenne. He got community service for 6 months, and for what?

“It reminds me of home. My friends and I used to head to a diner like this even when we were tripping.”

“They’re always the best hang outs.”

We took a seat at the booth, him sitting in front of me as we both ordered a cheeseburger. He ordered a chocolate milkshake, I ordered a vanilla one.

The cheeseburgers were fucking heaven. An actual orgasm in my mouth.

“So, what brings you to Belvoire, Bea?”

He asked as he finished a bite of his burger, devouring it just as fast as I was mine.

“My aunt died, we uh— we basically got all her money. I wanted to go to an Ivy League school since I was like, thirteen, never had the money to.” I admitted.

He stopped eating and looked at me.

“I’m sorry about your aunt.” He said earnestly.

“Don’t worry about it, barely knew her.” I scooped up some of my fries and popped them in my mouth.

“You know, I’m new money myself.”

I was surprised at this. He had this whole clean look, a look that screamed sophistication. However, thinking about it now…

“Ah, that’s how you know how to enjoy the finer things in life.” I said gesturing to my burger.

He chuckled at this.

“It can make you feel out of place here.”

I understood that, completely.

We remained eating in silence until I piped up.

“Can I try your milkshake?” I asked with a pop of my lips.

“Go for it.”

And god it was good. He must’ve seen my eyes widen or something, noting my empty vanilla milkshake because he then asked if I wanted to share.

“Can I?”

In reply, he simply pushed the milkshake to my side of the table and got up, sitting on my side of the booth as I started drinking through his straw.

I noticed him looking at me as I drank, a slight smile playing on his lips as he slowly got closer. He stopped a few inches away.

“Can I—“

I cut him off by pressing my lips to his. His hands were soft, clearly having faced no manual labour, as they were brought to the side of my face, our lips moving in tandem as the kiss grew deeper.

It was comfortable. Maybe there wasn’t the electricity like there was with Poppy—

Poppy. Why couldn’t I get her out of my head?

No, Bea. Concentrate on this. Don’t be so thirsty. You like him.

My hands rested on his sides before he began slowing the kiss. Our lips slowly unwinded from each other’s, our foreheads resting against the other’s. A small smile spread across both of our faces as he quickly pecked my lips again.

“Do you want to meet my bros?”

And there it was: red, purple, blue - all within his eyes.

—

We made our way to the Alpha frat house, his arm resting around my shoulders as we walked through the double doors of the fucking manor.

“Bros! I’ve got someone you should meet.” He shouted in the foyer, not letting his arm drop.

As soon as his voice rang out, a group of about 20 guys entered the huge room, all of which looked dim as fuck and disoriented.

“Everyone, this is Bea. She’s the new girl on campus.”

“Bea!” They all said happily, smiling and walking over to greet me. They all seemed liked actual sweethearts, actually. Big golden retriever vibes from each and every one.

“This is Ford, Luis, Michael, Erik, Carter— Poppy?”

That name snapped me out of my game of how-many-of-these-names-will-I-actually-remember. My gaze immediately drifted to one disheveled Poppy Min-Sinclair making her way down the stairs, heels slung over her shoulder, revealing her dainty 5’2 stature. She made eye contact with me and smirked, keeping her eyes trained on mine.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she was not sorry. “Just making my way out.”

One of the frat dudes, Carter I think, made his way to her and attempted to kiss her goodbye. I’m guessing they did it, huh. She turned her face to the side so he caught her cheek rather than her lips, keeping her eyes firmly locked on mine, her lips parting slightly. I was glad I covered the hickeys she left on my neck, or I can’t imagine how smug she would be right now.

She waved goodbye with a small wave of her fingers, making sure to look me up and down before exiting.

Why did she spend the night with him and not me? Why was I so quickly kicked out of her bed?

More importantly, why the fuck did I care?

—

Anthropology 101. Great.

When I arrived I looked for a seat, my stomach rumbling and no food nor drink with me. Idiot.

I could’ve spotted her from a mile away, sitting by herself in the middle of the lecture hall in her pink jumper. I don’t know why I decided to sit down next to her, but I did. Maybe you could call it some kind of pull, I don’t know.

“Damn Wyoming, didn’t take you for the type to come back for more.” Poppy smirked as I sat down right next to her.

“I just thought you looked lonely.” I said with a sickeningly sweet, condescending smile. “Hang on- Wyoming? How did you know I was from Wyoming?”

She retreated and sat back in her seat, looking at the pen in her hand as it suddenly became that much more interesting.

“Liam.”

“Aw Pop, were you asking about me?” I looked at her as her eyes connected with mine.

“No, he just wouldn’t shut up about you.” She replied venomously. I didn’t believe that for a second.

I sighed contentedly and leaned back in my chair as the lecture began, my new professor, Professor Kingsley, strutting in. 

A half an hour went by and my foot didn’t stop tapping once.

Why did she stay with him? Why did I have to leave?

“Why did you make me leave? You stayed with— Carter, was it?” My brain betrayed me, clearly deciding it had no filter as I whispered to Poppy.

She kept her eyes on her notes, scribbling down whatever Kingsley was rambling on about down in her pristine, cursive writing. Of course she writes in cursive.

“You smelled like eau-de-parfarm.”

“Wow, good one.” I jested.

A minute later, she sighed and slowly put her pen down, looking at me with side eye.

“I had no idea you were drunk nor high when we fucked. Liam told me - when I went downstairs - about you, or in his words, ‘the girl he was dancing with that I stole and went upstairs with’. I was drunk too, admittedly.”

I narrowed my eyes at her.

“And what does that have anything to do with you making me leave then staying with Carter?”

She sighed again.

“I think you blacked out at this point, but I went back upstairs when I found out. I felt guilty, I guess. I helped you throw up, helped you get home, got you into your bed, then Carter messaged me. I was so tired after we finished after taking care of you I fell asleep—“ She cut herself off.

Something tells me she didn’t want to let me know this.

“You took care of me?” Something about imagining Poppy take care of me made my cheeks burn red. Was it the idea that I conceptualized in my head of her, that she wouldn’t do that for anyone else? I don’t know.

“No, I didn’t. Shut it, Wyoming.”

She turned back to her notes and began scribbling. With a small smile and a slightly fluttery heart (only slightly), I turned back to my own as my stomach rumbled.

“Hungry?” Poppy immediately asked me, not moving her head but moving her eyes to look at me.

I only nodded in response.

She didn’t say anything, only slowly pushed her coffee over to me.

I took it. I drank her coffee. Poppy Min-Sinclair’s coffee. She was taking care of me.

Chapter Text

I would never tell Poppy this, but Anthro was quickly becoming my favourite class.

Not because I enjoyed learning about neo-evolutionism or cultural ecology, but because she was there.

I didn’t know why her presence was so comforting to me, even with all her quip remarks.

“I know you probably weren’t taught this, barnyard barbie, but this is Burberry. No touch.”

“God, could you breathe any louder? You sound like all those cows you must have back home.”

“You look like shit.”

That time I was not in the mood for one of her insults.

“I feel like it.”

I saw the moment where her face melted from smugness to genuineness - a veneer being removed. Her polished, brandished air of nonchalance being drained and pushed back inside as it was replaced with real feeling.

Then the veneer was replaced, a glossy façade over her care that I so badly wanted to understand.

“Well sit down mulch muncher. We’ve got two hours ahead of us of historical particularism.” She turned back to her notes without so much as a second thought.

“Sounds like you just really want me next to you.”

Poppy was confusing. She was complicated.

Liam seemed comfortable and safe, and while sometimes I yearn for the stability, I knew it was only a matter of time before my curiosity got the better of me.

You know what they say, curiosity killed the cat.

-

Liam and I sat in his bedroom, me resting with my head on his headboard as his head remained on my chest, my hands running through his hair. He had messaged me an hour ago asking if I wanted to come over to watch a movie.

I got to pick. I chose Legally Blonde of course .

I didn’t expect him to like it, but I caught him giggling along with me.

Sigh.

How can you tell if you genuinely like someone?

I didn’t know if I genuinely liked him, you know, romantically. But for now, this felt nice.

I leaned down and kissed the top of his head gently as he laughed along to the movie, earning a hum and a tightening of his arms around me.

-

“You never answered my question in the diner. You told me how you ended up at Belvoire, not why. I don’t believe you just wanted to go to an Ivy League school.” He said to me during our conversation about our favourite classes. He had moved to sit in front of me now, his blue eyes looking gently into my own. Everything he did was laced with softness and sincerity.

Was that the case with Poppy? She creates this hard exterior, a promise that she will not feel - that an arms length is all you can get to her. But the first night I met her, she let me in. She took care of me. She didn’t have to do all that. She could’ve just thrown me out her room and told me to go home, but she didn’t.

Poppy Min-Sinclair you are an enigma that I am going to look so forward to unraveling.

“Are you trying to ask me why I chose Belvoire while dancing around it?” He nodded. “I don’t know, I always felt a draw to New York. It was so bright, so lively. I needed that.” I paused and looked back at Liam, I knew I could be vulnerable with him. “You know that sinking feeling in your chest when there just- I don’t know, there just- isn’t enough for you? Like, there wasn’t enough people in Wyoming. Not enough light. Not enough energy. I don’t know, a certain je ne sais quoi.”

“French? Fitting in with the pretentiousness here, huh?” He chuckled lightly as I smiled back at him, “I understand you completely though. I felt that too. There just wasn’t enough. ”

He got it.

A couple seconds went by. I looked away from him before replying, my eyebrows furrowing as I focused on his door. “In all honesty, I think I just needed to get away.”

“Running from something?”

“From myself, I guess.” I left that version of me behind, or I was trying to. “I didn’t like who I became.” I wanted to repair that so badly now. “I guess addiction does that to a person.” You despise the parts of yourself that you can’t get rid of. “I swear I wasn’t always like this.” But it feels fated to happen, like it was always in your path.

His eyes flicked down to my hands, an unreadable expression spreading across his face as his eyebrows furrowed, his blue eyes no longer icy, but the colour of the sky. “Bea, I’m so sorry.” He grabbed my hand softly. “God, and I gave you-” I recognised the unmistakable self-blame.

“You didn’t know.”

He looked at me again, a grim, closed mouth smile tugging at his lips. Holding the sides of his face, I pulled him in for a gentle kiss.

-

Later, after talking for a few hours, we decided to go to the Zeta party.

God, how many parties do these girls have?

Getting up from his bed, we walked our way to the Zeta house.

All I could think about was if Poppy would be there. Would Carter too?

Stop. You’re with Liam. Stop feeling this way.

I held his hand tighter as we walked in. His hand squeezed mine when our eyes fell on the dance floor and we immediately began to sway together, his arms around me, enclosing me within his safety.

My hips swayed to the slow rhythm, the beat slowing as we began to make our way to the centre of the floor, dancing with everyone around us.

I ended up dancing with Ford for a while before letting Liam know I was going to find Zoey, sweat dripping from my forehead and glazed eyes.

“Are you going to the Zeta party?” She asked me as we both lay on the couch, glass of champagne in hand with Love Island playing.

“I don’t know.”

She turned to face me and told me, “babe, you have to come.”

I pretended to ponder for a minute.

“For you.”

“For me.”

We clinked our glasses together and took a sip, lying back to enjoy the highest of quality breakdowns.

I got to the kitchen, not finding Zoey but beginning to assort my own drink, steadying myself on the kitchen counter.

“Looking for something a little stronger?”

What? Déjà vu already?

I was met with a tough face staring back at me. I didn’t recognise him. I could feel everything coursing through my veins. I felt lightheaded.

Restraint, Bea.

“No thanks, I’ll stick with my drink.”

I felt half of my brain screaming at me, my inners burning for the feeling of the high, the total loss of control, the sudden beauty of everything.

“Come on, it won’t hurt.”

The room suddenly felt smaller and I felt warmer, submerged within my own desire. His voice sounded deeper in my head, swimming amongst the other voices in the room echoing off of each corner of the room, each person, before making its way lightly into my ear.

“She said she’s alright.”

I heard from behind me a voice I so wanted to hear.

“Now scram out of my house, Randall, before I let everyone know about that little.. problem down there.”

He left and I felt the water drain from the room, allowing me to breathe once more, yet I kept swimming.

“Are you okay?” I turned to see Poppy looking at me, sticking two metres from me. I nodded in response. “Come with me.” She grabbed my hand quickly and pulled me out of the kitchen, out of the doors and into the garden, walking around the path to the fountain- fountain? Jesus Christ.

“What was that, Wyoming?” Poppy sat on the edge of the fountain, gesturing for me to sit next to her.

I did.

I felt my heart pick up the minute I sat.

“I was having a lovely conversation before you butted in.” I smirked at her. “You just can’t get enough of me.”

“On the contrary, I have already had enough of you.” She quipped, but I noted her eyes flicking to my lips.

“Then why are you here right now?” I leaned back from her to study her face, watching a slight pink form on her cheeks before it was replaced with her normal tone, a snicker and a voice ever so condescending.

“I pitied you.”

We sat for a few seconds in silence.

“What was that? Why did you freeze up? I thought you had finally succumbed to your illiterate farmer upbringing.”

She hasn’t given me much reason to be vulnerable with her, she would probably fire back some snarky remark. After all, wasn’t the only care I thought she felt some conceptualized notion of her I wanted to feel?

“I uh-“ I faltered. She looked intently at me. “I struggle to say no to things like that, I- I guess it’s because I- you know-“

“You were an addict?”

I nodded, expecting her to make some comment about how she should’ve known, I almost expected her to push me away, to be disgusted by the very idea of being next to me. Instead, she took my hand gently.

Nothing needed to be said.

-

“Poppy, why do you care?” I asked her as we sat together.

“I don’t.” She replied nonchalantly, staring into the spacious, dark garden. It almost looked like a maze in this light, the hedges looking as if they were never ending.

I didn’t believe that.

“Then why did you want me to come with you? Why did you ask if I was okay?” My eyebrow raised at her as she continued to stare straight past me.

She didn’t say anything to me.

“Are you and Liam dating?” She asked, finally looking at me.

I felt my pulse pick up, was Poppy jealous?

“No, but if we were, would that be a problem?”

I could’ve sworn I saw her mouth turn into a small smile for a split second before she retorted, “no.”

I nodded slowly, looking away from her as I could feel her eyes boring into the side of my head. Inhaling deeply, I got up and spotted a rose bush in the garden, making my way over to it.

“Hey! Farmhand! Where are you going?”

“Come find out.” I turned, wagging a finger at her to beckon her over. I then slowly, agonizingly added, “Popsicle.”

I didn’t know if I expected her to come with me. Part of me hoped she might stay behind because I didn’t know what else to say, but part of me knew I wanted to be around her no matter what.

She slowly got up and stiffly made her way over to me as I stopped in front of the roses, plucking one of the white protruding flowers, careful to avoid the thorns.

She winced, “Wyoming I swear to god I don’t know what kind of barnyard you were raised in but-“

I shushed her, knowing this time, in my heart, she would push back. She attempted to speak again, but I kept shushing her.

Finally she shut up.

I examined the rose and held it to her. “You know, most people might be scared to pick a rose. They can hurt you,” I demonstrated by pricking my finger, watching Poppy’s hand instinctively flinch towards me but stop at the last second. “And you know they can, so maybe picking them is stupid, but you can never quite appreciate the beauty of it until it’s in your hand - until it’s yours.” I rested my finger on the thorn, looking from the flower to Poppy. “I’m not scared.”

“What kind of drugs are you on?” Poppy retorted, skewing her face and looking at me with a confused expression on her face.

I looked at her and she instantly knew. She knew I accepted this challenge of breaking down her walls. Her challenge. Her eyes darted from my eyes to my lips as I slowly leaned in.

“I’m not with Liam, Rose.”

“Rose? Wrong flower bitc-“

She was cut off by my lips on hers. They were so soft, as good as I remembered. Better, even. They moved in tandem together and there it was - that spark that I so craved. Her hands came to rest on my waist as my hands moved to the side of her face, brushing her hair out of her face, holding onto her to ground me.

Our lips worked slowly, tongues delving into one another’s mouth to circle the other’s.

All too soon we pulled away, our foreheads resting against each other, and I left her with the rose nestled behind her ear.