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I hadn't thought about it when Brennan called me and asked me to come back to school freshman year. Asking had really been pointless and we both knew it. Nonetheless, I was grateful for the pretense; the illusion that I had a choice in the matter was very much appreciated. The truth was that when he called me and told me that he needed me and then asked me to come back, we both knew that I would do it even though I could have said no and been enrolled in college the next year.

Instead, I found myself moving back into the dorms at the school where I'd spent my first seven years of educational life. Moving in the middle of January was a b***h. Especially moving from sunny California to bitter cold New York. Still, I had Brennan and Christopher to move the heavy stuff, and a heavy winter jacket to keep the worst of the snow at bay. Not that I had much to move, mind you, I mean, there's only so much that you can really cram into a dorm. Even an obnoxiously large dorm, like mine was. Still, I had heavy drapes and boxes of books and dvds that weighed more than I did. I had my coffee table and my pillows and rugs and cleverly disguised mini-fridge. I had a lot of stuff, when it all added up.

Frankly, I made the boys cart it all the way across campus. And then when it was all in my new room, I made them hang all the curtains and drapes from my ceiling, while I sat back and directed. What, after all, was the use in knowing the starting quarterback and his equally muscular and tall brother if you couldn't make them do all the boring parts of unpacking?

Granted, that hadn't really been my original idea. Brennan had carried all my boxes across campus with a few of his jock friends who hadn't gone home for the break. In the middle of unpacking, I'd stood on my desk, dancing a little to my ihome while I tried to hang one of the gauzy emerald fabrics over where my bed would be. That's when Chris came in. Seriously, that boy had always been able to throw me off guard a little bit. He was uncannily beautiful and not in a pretty boy kind of way. He was just… well, I drooled over him and I'd been around half of hollywood's hottest men shirtless. There was something about the chiseled face and the broad shoulders and that dangerous, reckless grin that kind of made me want to throw myself at him. He'd always made me do stupid things, even as a sixth grader. But that moment probably took the cake up to date. All the man had to do was walk in and whistle at me and I lost my balance.

Brennan, always quick on his feet, caught me before my head hit the ground or desk and spun around with me in his arms to look at his brother. If possible, he'd gotten more beautiful. My hormones took a swift leap and then went running off, leaving me to stare stupidly at him while he grinned and openly looked me over. I can't say I was any better. My eyes had been, stupidly, starved for the sight of him and somehow, I can't imagine how, they'd managed to forget how his hair was just a little bit messy all the time because he had a habit of rumpling it while thinking. His smile still did that thing to the pit of my stomach and my skin still tingled and throbbed everywhere his eyes touched it.

"Damn Kay, I'd ask how home was, but I think I know." he raised his eyebrows. "Where'd my chubby little buddy go?"

That broke the spell, so to speak. There was no way I was talking about home, about California or my mother or how I had gone from being a genius on her way to Ivy leagues before she turned sixteen to a part of the Hart Academy crowd again. I frowned and shoved myself out of Brennan's arms, landing gracefully on my feet. I took another moment to put my skirt in order and straighten my sweater before shoving my hair over my shoulder and raising my eyebrows at him disdainfully. Part of me still wanted to stomp my foot and kick him in the shin for saying something like that, but the majority of me clung to maturity with both hands.

"Clearly, she lost weight, grew four inches and learned to dress better." I said calmly, instead. "Just as clearly you've stayed the same. Pity. Now be useful and hang this stupid curtain. I'm not risking my pretty neck for it." I sniffed, turning my back and dismissing him while I pulled open another box.

He was staring at my back. I knew he was, could feel the burn of it between my shoulder blades, but I ignored it and went about unpacking all the books that had been in that box. When they were out, I broke it down and moved to the bookshelf I had planned for them, sitting down and lovingly placing each treasured volume in their place. I ignored him standing there when I grabbed another box and pulled out a scarf to drape over the table next to my desk. When I found the box with my altar pieces, it was behind him, so I simply raised my brow at him and then the abandoned curtain and grabbed the box before getting to work on that.

Christopher had always loved women. All sorts of women. It didn't matter how old or young or skinny or fat; Chris appreciated them all. He loved our weaknesses and our strengths, the softness of our hair and skin, the perfume we wore, the tone of our voices, the movement of our hands. It wasn't always sexual. Actually, it was very rarely sexual. He just liked women. Appreciated them. So I knew the chubby comment hadn't been meant as hurtful.

Nonetheless, it had been and I was mad about the reminder that I hadn't always been tall and toned and that I knew I'd always be mildly attractive compared to others of our acquaintance. The worst part about coming back wasn't in giving up on going to princeton four years early. It wasn't even being back here to face the mean girls we'd grown up with. The worst part was being back here to face myself.

In California, at least, I'd been free to be a different person, without the hated nickname "thunder thighs." In California I was tanned and lovely, a genius. I was focused and smart and delightful. I was a tennis playing, yoga-doing, high-energy kick-boxing dancer and even if it had all meant nothing to my mother, it meant to me that I didn't always have to be the angry, mouthy, violent chubby girl I had been here.

Brennan knew. Everything I was thinking just at that moment, really. We had never really had to talk to understand each other. He understood in that moment that I was thinking about everything I'd given up in order to be here for him. I looked over at him, hanging more curtains, and took in the apology written in his concerned face and just shrugged. What was done was done. I'd made my decision and we both knew I'd stay the course.

"Look at you, big bro, what would dad say about how pathetic you look?" Brenn laughed, tearing his eyes away from me. "You're in college and still standing in the doorway of a high school freshman girl's dorm room like an uncertain eighth grader." he snorted, tossing a pack of nails at him and gesturing for him to start hanging mirrors and lights and photos.

I smiled my thanks and just went about my way, carefully unwrapping and putting away incense boxes and an elephant shaped oil burner. When I finally found my bed stuff, I made up my bed and tossed all the pillows and colorful blankets on it and then shrugged at the boys and grabbed my xbox from its box and carted it out into the common room of the suite I shared with some girl I'd never met.

"I bet I can still kick your asses at madden." I smirked, setting the machine up and settling in with the remote.

Brennan rolled his eyes but launched himself over the back of the couch and grabbed a remote anyway. We were mostly through the round before I smiled calmly again at the sound of nails being pounded into the wall. Chris was still working, probably feeling badly about staring at me for so long. Or for the chubby comment. Either way, we were mostly through the fourth game before Chris joined us, heckling both of us until Brennan lost again and surrendered the remote to him.

He made some comment about how the new look had done nothing to my tomboy skills and I smirked and shoved him with my shoulder while pressing buttons to score the first touch down. I was not sure when he left, but I was sure that my body was horribly, acutely, aware of every movement of his thigh next to mine the whole time we played. When he finally lost again and traded out with Brennan, I was so relieved, I almost let Brenn win the next round before the competitive streak in me won out and I focused again.

And that was how we spent our break. Sometimes Chris joined us again, but most of the time it was just me and Brennan. He'd asked me once why I'd come back here. What in California had been so bad that I would agree so quickly to coming when he called. I didn't want to talk about it, so I'd just shrugged, biting my lip and looking at him from under the bangs that I could never seem to keep tamed. I hoped he would understand it and he did, I knew. I also knew it was stupid to not tell him. By the time school was in session again, everyone else in our class would know what had happened. But somehow, speaking it was worse. Instead of pressing me for an answer though, he just smirked and used my inattention to score in the game we were playing, snickering when I grabbed a pillow and hit him with it.

Really, she hasn't graduated yet. She'd basically be taking classes with seniors as a freshman though. And yeah, Kaylyn kind of thinks she's hot s**t. The problem is that she's been in that school for forever and there are a lot of people who're terrified of her. She'll get knocked down a peg or two next chapter, you know, when she actually has to deal with the people who aren't her friends (of which, unsurprisingly, there are many)

I haven't honestly figured that out yet. I was honestly relying on him being at most a background character. He skips school a lot to go hitchiking. And yeah, he was her first, but in all honesty, it probably happened at a party or after a party and she'd describe it exactly like that.