Trying New Things

Madison inspected the bottle from a safe distance, from the edge of the refrigerator door, peeking around it like what was inside was a bomb or a rapid opossum. A bottle of beer. She didn't remember ever saying much of a word to her dormmates, ever since she first moved in and told one of them to turn on the light for her. It wasn't exactly the best first impression, and she would more or less avoid them often. Now, however, a beer ended up in her fridge, a foreign substance that scared the girl. She turned it down at the informal, after all. She'd avoided it for the longest time.

"Hm..." she vocalized. It sure was tantalizing. Could this be the time she finally tried it? There certainly wasn't anyone around in case she drank a little too much. Besides; one never hurt anyone. Cautiously, to the point where she found herself shaking, the girl reached for it. It was slow only to the point of grabbing for the glass; once she touched it, she bolted, running to her room and shutting the door.

When one didn't hurt, three were certainly painless. The girl found it disgusting at first, surprised at how putrid the taste was, but it was a strange acquisition. She somehow was able to push past the bitter taste, to the point where it was nice. She certainly felt old and mature drinking it, the bottle feeling cold and right in her hands, like she was some kind of badass in an action movie. It was casually that she drank it, sitting on her bed with her laptop on her knees, and it was this nonchalant occasional swigging that made her surprised when it turned up empty.

Did she really drink it all?

Wasn't there more in the fridge in the back?

There was more in the fridge in the back.

She remembered telling the bottle she loved it by the third, whispering it like she was embarrassed, like there was someone over her shoulder to laugh at her. She knew she was drunk, and knew she was embarrassing, but still kept to the small giggles and weird outbursts. They were all murmurs, like secrets to herself. Maybe she needed someone over her shoulder. All drunk people needed someone over their shoulder, it was a rule or something.

She thought about calling her mom, but realized she hated her mom, and the computer screen was too difficult to put over her shoulder. Wasn't it metaphorical, though? Whatever, her mom was scary...

Nicola! Yes, Nicola! Nicola was right across the hall! She'd laugh at her! Madison gave fluttery smiles. She had to see Nicola. But she hated Nicola. Nicola was mean. Nicola kissed her.

Maybe giving her a reason to laugh at her wasn't a good idea. Madison frowned. Maybe she would get revenge somehow. She was obviously set on going to her dorm, so maybe that was a good idea. She left her room, not even putting on her sweater or even a tie, hopping from foot to foot like the floor was lava as she made it across her room. Her tongue was sticking out like a mischievous child. Her head was fuzzy and warm.

She gave a rapping on Nicola's door, not even knowing what she was going to do. All she knew was that she was going to show her! She was going to be assertive and make sure she wouldn't put her down!

There were many days she wished she was a cat. Cats could sleep all day and do whatever they felt like doing, be as lazy as they wished and nobody would give a crap about it; they eat, sleep, play, and sleep some more - it was practically an ideal lifestyle. Lulu was lucky, not having to stress over finishing last-minute homework that he decided to procrastinate until the night before and scrambling to fill in every answer correctly. She knew from the start that this wasn't a good idea, but good fucking God, did she seriously delay this much work?

The piles upon piles of assignments - textbook work, reading, worksheets, packets, and everything else - were messily  arranged on the coffee table. It took every fiber in her body to resist turning her neck a little to glance at it all and get to work, to keep her eyes glued on the TV and wrap up in a cocoon like a caterpillar forming its chrysalis to become a butterfly that was as free with only the sky as its limit. More stupid cartoons were playing about this one guy and his yellow electric mouse sidekick who went around trapping little creatures in tiny balls and forcing them to battle. Was this supposed to be heartwarming or touching? More like annoying, boring, and childish. Repetitive, lame, and whatever else. But it was way better than finishing homework so late at night and trying to pull an all-nighter to finish everything. To hell with school, right? Frustration only continued to bubble in her chest when her brother's attempt at scolding in his monotone voice echoed in her mind.

Being alone sounded nice right about now and she could only mumble a silent phrase of gratitude that the dorm was empty again. Nobody else was around and she had the entire place to herself without having a care in the world for anything else. Laying on the couch with her head resting on its arm, there was something satisfying about pretending to be trash and doing absolutely nothing and staring at absolutely nothing. No care in the world, nothing to think about, nothing to see. Yeah... just five more minutes before she'll start her homework. That's what she told herself an hour ago and let it keep repeating. A dumb cycle that kept spinning like a wheel - it was dumb and she was tired and didn't feel like getting up when the sofa was so comfortable.

A sudden thudding came from the door perked her attention, too loud. Someone wanted to come in.

She didn't want any visitors. She was tired of always answering the door.

Throwing the blanket over her head, Nicola groggily mumbled to no one in particular. "Five more minutes..." At least, that's what she wanted to do. And she waited a good while in silence, her eyes closing shut and only enhancing her curiosity of who it was. She couldn't even last two minutes. Swinging onto her feet and slipping on her shoes, her fingers clutched the blanket around her in a child-like, letting it drape down with the majesty of a trailing waterfall. Groggily, her hand reached and turned the door knob, only a small crack forming as she withdrew it to rub her eyes with a brief yawn.

Blurry and double was the first thing she saw for awhile. Someone her height, dark medium-length hair and blue eyes or something... Looked drunk. Once she managed to refocus, she realized it was Madison. A frown graced her lips - Madison didn't try to drink anything at the Informal and honestly, from her awkward disposition and quirky nature, she didn't give the impression of chugging down a bunch of alcohol or beer. Did someone peer pressure her into doing this or something? Maybe she was dared? Or maybe it was something that caught her off-guard like someone had forced the bottle into her mouth like a baby still feeding on a bottle.

"You're drunk." That was obvious. Too obvious. She half-expected Madison to just walk away and go down the hall towards Owen's room. Owen seemed like a more obvious choice for something like this. He was probably better at handling drunk people and then managing their hangover afterwards. Madison probably would've visited him over her under normal circumstances. But being this intoxicated was not a normal situation. Not even close.

Slamming the door on her face seemed like a good option right now. Homework suddenly seemed very appealing.

When Nicola opened up the door, all seemed to wash away, and her face turned red. Why was she doing this again? "I'm not..." she said, but after a while the corners of her mouth crept up. "...if not meant.....am-can I come in?" She walked in before Nicola could answer, brushing past her, looking around as if she'd never seen the place. "We never hang out anymore. I'm alive because of you, you owe me." Referring to the roof, of course. And a few other things. Of course, one of those things was Nicola's fault. Madison still walked with a limp, still walked with a brace, though it was better than it used to be. Well, except then. Being drunk didn't help your balance.

She spun around, a real excitement and loose nature Madison had never displayed before. "Hey, Nicola!" She seemed bent on receiving an answer, and said it a little loudly as if her friend was busy.

A scowl deepened across her features. Madison's wobbly and unstable disposition to her slurred way of speaking and the dazed look in her eyes as though everything was a kaleidoscope in their enthralling charms that nobody else would bother noticing in their lack of observation; scratch that, people didn't find lamp posts all that appealing or a door or... any kind of trivial, everyday thing that they saw so often that it became just another part of a background that they would never so much as throw a glance at. What a drunk person saw in their state would always be a mystery that Nicola wouldn't bother extending towards - reading about it in a book was enough. Speaking of which, how much did Madison fucking drink? The breaths that she flung into the air reeked with a pungent odor.

Nicola opened her mouth to retort, to send her to do something with Owen or go back to her room and rest or something, but she was way too slow. Madison walked in without giving her a say in the decision. An exasperated sigh escaped her as she rolled her eyes, shutting the door after the uninvited guest. So much for studying tonight. Maybe that'd teach her to not procrastinate like every normal human being in existence. Pinching the bridge of her nose, a mental note filed itself into her mind: Have Hieta check her room for intoxicating substances. That'll have to be confiscated. Dealing with a drunk Madison once was enough. Twice was a bit much, thrice was completely pushing it. Hopefully this would be the only experience she'd have with this kind of situation. What was it, one in four thousand chance that something like this would come up? That was, if Madison wasn't addicted and drinking every chance she'd get. That better not be the case.

While she didn't mind hanging out with other people all that much - she liked to consider herself a decent and amiable person -, everything Madison was spewing out was plain weird. Didn't they hang out a few weeks ago or something? They even have classes together every now and then. Sort of... But still, was she missing something? When did she owe anyone anyth--- Oh wait. Right... a drunk. Trying to apply some logic or reasoning here would be pointless. This really wasn't her forte. Here she was, with someone who was as tipsy as hell and she was trying to make sense out of it? "If you wanted to hang out, you coulda called anytime." Maybe attempting to converse with an inebriated person was a bad idea; she should've read more manuals or made an effort to memorize these little facts. Her brain needed to start working better during crucial and dire moments.

Plopping back down on the couch, Nicola picked up her pencil to read over the worksheets that were still laid out there. The eraser was clenched carefully between her lips in an attempt to distract herself and focus on other things, but Madison thought otherwise. As great as it was to see the bursting energy and jubilant atmosphere her friend was finally showing, her call was bordering earsplitting and brought an unwanted pang to her head. Lulu's claws had retracted as he was broken away from his sleep spell, pouncing away from his rather comfortable cushion.

The first impulse told her to yell or get angry with Madison, but the pencil had fallen out from its position and she was left with biting her own lips that restrained words that tried to rip their way through like an agitated lion.

So, there was only one other thing to do.

Blue eyes narrowed into a piercing, cat-like glare written across with a dangerous warning. No, no, no. Some obscure direction here and there said that you had to be patient when dealing with people like this. Why couldn't Madison have gone to Owen instead? Her temper was short as is. Another sigh later, Nicola reached up and readjusted her cap. "What?" She had shut her eyes closed, as though it was irritating to look at her friend, but it was more to avoid watching the clumsy mess Madison had become. A terse question that she wasn't so stoked about getting an answer to. Somehow, she had a feeling she wouldn't be able to relent to whatever drunk Madison was brewing right now. Too tired, too stressed, too unwilling to think. Maybe it was alright to go with the flow once in awhile, stop taking things into her own hands. Yeah, maybe it won't be so bad after all. Or maybe that was being too optimistic. It probably was. No matter how you look at it, that was more positive than necessary.

The things you have to do for friends and dealing with other people. Kicking her legs up onto the coffee table and resting her head between her arms, Nicola eyed her temporary roommate. "Wanna do somethin'?"

And her temporary roommate smiled a very friendly smile, like Nicola had just complimented her with her attention. She pursed her lips, and watching Nicola bite her own, mimicked her, even going so far as to tap her lip to make sure she was actually biting it. And then, she turned, keeping her finger tracing her lips like she was applying lipbalm. She drifted over to the kitchen area, the small corner of the living room where the counters topped a sink and a dishwasher. Madison lifted a hand, but left it there, retracted, as if she was debating which cupboard to open. She was looking for something. After a few ponderous moments, she cast a sideways question. "Where's the pocky?" she asked. She assumed Nicola would have some, being all Japanesey and stuff. Madison did like it, for the split second before Nicola kissed her. And, she was there to get back at Nicola. It was a great plan. She wouldn't suspect a thing.

Her eyes drifted once again, to outside the window and under a tree, where a slender hallucination wobbled back and forth in place, like a full-body bobble head, and Madison smiled at it. What a silly thing to find outside. She loved her hallucinations. It was the best power ever. Before Nicola could answer her, she gave a sudden outburst. "We should go outside!"

Was Madison okay? At all?

Of course she wasn't. A drunk was never okay. They would be completely ditzy, have terribly bad breath, and do things that they wouldn't do in their right mind. Intoxicating substances they were, scrambling brain chemicals around and making them feel some sort of euphoria or whatever it was. An eerie chill ran down her spine, telling her that something bad was bound to happen if she just went along with what Madison wanted her to do. Aren't you not supposed to listen to what the drunk person wants? Force them to listen to you while properly tending to them or something? The problem with this was that Hieta never let her drink or get close to anyone that he was suspicious was wasting away like a fish out of water. If she had some experience, then maybe this wouldn't be as big of a frustration.

Her fingers scoured the couch's vicinity for her pencil where it had been left lying a little way's off after tumbling here and there. Nicola latched back onto it, the writing utensil twirling about like a carousel that would never stop and was going a tad bit too fast. Madison was heading to the kitchen. The kitchen. There was no way that there was any alcohol or anything in this dorm - Brant would burn the rest of them if he found out; he took his position rather seriously, last she heard. Or maybe not burn, but punish them severely. Or maybe he would burn them to the point of death. His girlfriend was a necromancer after all. She did know this was a prefect's room, didn't she? "Don't go over there." The didactic air to her voice made her feel more like a parent trying to scold a child rather than someone trying to tell their friend not to do something. But the next question that Madison asked caught her off-guard.

Where was the Pocky?

...

. . .

.  .  .

Why the Pocky? After what happened some random amount of months ago and what took place afterwards, she wanted to grab the very same snack that caused the first domino to fall and topple over the rest of the line that had worked its way up and was still building up? She's drunk. She's drunk. Don't tell her. Don't fucking tell her. Nicola took a deep breath, mumbling something that sounded like 'second one to the right' before shaking her head. This was ridiculous. This was absolutely ridiculous. Before she could open her mouth and give an actual answer, Madison had spoken up first, exclaiming in an overly-excited tone.

The color started to drain out of her skin. They were not going outside. No absolute way. It was pitch black outside, save for the dim orange lights that the antique lampposts provided, but those were practically useless in giving any actual source of light. Swinging up and onto her feet, abandoning her homework, Nicola stomped on over to the kitchen and grabbed Madison's wrist. "You're goin' back to your room." Her free hand reached for one of the cabinets, flinging it open. Inside were a few packages of Pocky. Nicola placed it on the countertop, gesturing for Madison to take it.

"There. Happy?" The question was sloppily asked, as though her patience was waning thin.

She seemed pretty bummed to be pushed off to her room. What was it about her that seemed so unappealing to Nicola? She was doing this all the time, trying to get rid of her or pass her on until it was time to run into her room. Madison was the same way, always disappearing into her personal space, but after drinking those beers she was free from that timid philosophy. Nicola wanted to abandon it. Madison felt a madness swell up in her, a growing ball of fire at her inability to win over her fr--ooh, pocky!

She grabbed the package tentatively, examining it. Yes, those kiss sticks. They were the tasty things you used to kiss someone. And since she had them in her grasp, she had to kiss someone, which was only the rules. With Nicola grabbing her right wrist with her right hand, Madison grabbed her left wrist with her left hand, and dropping the pocky package, planted her lips on Nicola's long and hard, satiating an inner want that only blossomed to fruition at the reminder of what it was. She pressed deep into Nicola, and breathed, grabbing her wrist harder until she felt her fingers turn white.

Courage. Courage was what he needed. He was constantly told by family, both immediate and extended, that he had courage as a young boy. That he was always the first to jump off a cliff into the lake below, that he was the first to volunteer to try a new food, that he would step forward without fear to place his hand into a bush that made an odd rattling sound. Even in school, his teachers remarked to his parents at conferences that he was a risk-taking personality.

Staring at the small piece of red paper on the coffee table, Owen wondered what had happened to that courage. It seemed he had become someone entirely different in the few months he'd been at this school. Not that a counselor wouldn't be able to tell that from everything he had experienced, it was perfectly normal, he was sure, to have become a new person. Still, he wished he could find some of that courage again, just enough to write this note and send it, even anonymously.

With a heavy sigh, he sat back against the couch, turning his head to stare out the window only to find the blinds closed over it. Owen ran a hand through his already messy hair, tugging a little to try and get rid of the small headache that was forming at his temples. This was too much thinking. He had to go somewhere to clear his head, maybe get help from someone else, someone who was also a girl and might be able to help...

The only name that came to mind was Nicola. Even as it occurred to him, Owen shrugged it off. Surely she wouldn't be able to help; after all, he felt certain there was already something between her and Madison, he didn't want to interrupt whatever special connection they had. But it was his only option. The brash girl knew Madison better than anyone else, and she was the only other friend he had in this school, making her his only option.

Gathering his thoughts, Owen grabbed the red paper, a pen, and his jacket, tugging it on to keep his arms warm as he walked through the halls of the Summer dorms. How could he bring this up? He considered his options and rehearsed them in his head as he approached the girl's door, taking a deep breath as he prepared to knock. Voices from inside caught his attention, and he tilted his head, his ear close to the crack of the door so he could hear better. He immediately recognized Nicola's, but there was another one that sounded familiar with a strange edge to it. Just as things grew silent, he realized it was Madison's.

Did he still want to go in there? The boy stood, his fist hovering over the solid door, ready to knock. The whole reason he had come here was to talk about Madison without the girl being in the vicinity. Then again, he hadn't seen her or Nicola in a few days, and it would be nice to see the two again. After what felt like ages but was only a couple of seconds, Owen knocked and turned the handle, stepping inside with a smile plastered on his face.

For a moment, he couldn't make sense of what he was seeing. It looked awkward at first, and he knew there were two people, but Owen simply couldn't separate the two, the dark and the light hair confusing him. It suddenly hit him and his cheeks burned. His heart sank as he took in the scene before him. The paper clutched in his hand was crushed in his fist, crinkling slightly. Softly, he mumbled an apology, moving to leave the room as quickly as he had entered it.

It was silly, seeing Madison pouting and being all disappointed that she was trying to get her to go back to her room and get some rest or something else along those lines. She didn't know how to handle drunkards and probably never will. But this was ridiculous. The way her soft features were contorted to something akin to those cute little puppies on those weird internet memes that nobody ever used anymore - puppy dog eyes was the expression. Nicola tugged at her shirt's collar, turning her eyes away from even glancing at her friend and cleared her throat. "Come on, this isn't funny 'ya know..." There was no way it could be. What the hell went through someone's mind when they were in this kind of state? As curious as she was, her brother would kill her before she could ever get the chance. Overprotective as hell. Way too overprotective.

There was one thing that she really needed to do and that included kicking her temporary roommate out and getting some advice from Owen on how the hell to deal with this. He of all people would know what to do with a drunk person, right? He seemed a bit uncomfortable back at the infirmary, so that must mean he had experience, right? Or maybe she was getting too desperate for some kind of help or anything to get her out of this situation. This was a little too much for her.

Or was too much for her.

Who knew it could get worse?

One moment, she was ready to drag Madison out the door and back to her room and tuck her to bed or something forcibly. The next moment, the other girl had latched onto both of her wrists and ensnared her tight within her fingers as though she were clamping it or tying it as tight as someone would need a noose to be in order to bring the proper effect into play and placed her lips right onto hers. "W-wait, h---" Nicola sputtered helplessly, but her words fell on empty ears. What had been carefully narrowed eyes that seemed to be able to pierce and remained firm were now widened in utter shock. What the hell? Okay, she had asked for Pocky and maybe she would've went through and wanted to play the game or something. But, this? This?

Goddammit. Did Madison self-induce PTSD or something? This was not acceptable at all, not at fucking all. Instinct played a part, screaming at her that this wasn't acceptable and Nicola tried to pull away, but something didn't allow her to. Secretly, she was completely fine with this and didn't want to just let it stop and let it last for what could be an eternity. No. No matter how much she may or may not have liked it, this was completely wrong and what would happen if someone walked in on them? They would get the completely wrong idea, wouldn't they? This was bad for both of their reputations in more ways than one.

She could hear the sudden banging against the door again.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

No, no, no, no. She left the door unlocked. She left the fucking door unlocked. This was not, no, just absolutely, agh. The dread flooded into her mood as the creeeeek! echoed in what had been a silent room, sending pangs in a heart that wouldn't calm itself down a few notches. And guess who had to be there? Out of the corner of her eyes, Nicola spied a tall boy with dashing sun-colored hair and dainty brown eyes with a bright, radiant smile etched across his features. One that seemed to flash from confusion to embarrassment to disappointed all at once without giving the rest of his emotions a chance to surface up. He had left as quickly as he came, the slight sound of paper crinkling ringing in her ears.

Owen had to show up now. Now of all the times that she needed him most in this situation? Wasn't that just convenient? What was this, a plot device needed to progress some sort of story? Nicola managed to break the kiss, shooting a dirty glare at the package of chocolate-coated biscuits - she wanted to blame that snack more than anything for all of this. Self-reminder never to eat those again. They were starting to get on her nerves. They were a curse. Yes, that's what they had to be.

Pulling her hands away from Madison's grasp with a simple little trick she learned from martial arts some time ago, Nicola was about to dart out of the room to catch up to the other guy, but immediately stopped herself. Madison was drunk. Could you leave a drunk person alone at all? Why the hell didn't she research on this more? It was either Madison or Owen. Who did she need to be with more right now? Her face was burning up like a furnace, cheeks dusted with crimson red, and she immediately glanced back at Madison, the open door, and back.

Owen.

With an apologetic look towards the girl who had just kissed her, Nicola held her hands up with 'don't panic' written across her face. "I'll be right back. Just don't move." Hopefully she wouldn't move... If something happened, this wasn't going to end well again, was it? Clutching Madison's wrist again, she directed her to the couch and had her sit down. "Don't move." The direction was repeated - for safety precaution.

Where was Hieta? It'd be easier if her brother was here. He'd be able to keep an eye on Madison for her while she left and follow the girl around if something came up. But... her only other choice was Lulu. And he was a cat. Better than nothing... "Lulu, make sure she doesn't move."

Rushing out the door and into the Summer hallway, Nicola had to suppress coughs threatening to well up from asthma, the same ones that began to slow her down. She really hadn't been spending too much time to herself with all of this homework that she had to finish and it was backfiring on her too badly. Once she managed to catch up to Owen - thank God adrenaline existed -, it was more that she tripped and slammed right into him out of exhaustion. Her legs had snapped like lead and her arms felt like jelly. Hastily getting off of him and reaching towards the wall for some sort of support, she was left not standing and rather leaning and panting.

Damn, her stamina had gotten really awful from staying in her room all of these days in a row.

After a bit of effort to calm her aching heart, she managed to get a few words out that was more like a string of phrases rather than a coherent sentence. "Not what... it looks like... Madison's... drunk." Why was he visiting her in the first place anyway? There wasn't anything that he could've been asking about unless... Valentine's Day.

Oh.

Who the hell decided this would be funny?

Madison left her hand up as Nicola maneuvered away from her, and blinked as if she did not know entirely what she did. She took the directions like a confused puppy, however, sitting down on the couch and nodding again and again at Nicola's repeated efforts to keep her there. There was no reason for her to leave; she was confused at where exactly Nicola was going put nevertheless stayed there, hands propped on her lap and back straight in a respective posture. Of course, after a few moments of Nicola being gone, she rested her head on the couch's arm. Within minutes she fell asleep, taken over by an overwhelming and sudden fatigue.

Madison decided it would be funny.

Head spinning, breaths short, Owen found himself in the hallway, hands on his waist as he sucked in deep breaths and let them out too fast for them to be effective. He closed his eyes and then squeezed them, trying to clear the images in his head. He shoved the paper in his pocket. The heels of his hands pressed against his eyelids and created stars and static in his field of vision.

There was no denying what he'd seen. He had never really been sure what was going on between Madison and Nicola. Then again, he'd never had the courage to ask, and it was their private business that had never been brought up. All of the awkward tiptoeing around each other, all of the tense situations, the infirmary visits, even their meeting, all of it felt unreal. Had they been together the whole time and he just didn't know?

Someone ran into him and he stumbled, catching himself against the wall. As the other person pushed themselves off him, he turned, his mouth ready to snap before his brain had really caught up with him. It was Nicola, and she was wheezing like she'd run a long way. Owen froze, unsure of what to do, suddenly faced with speaking.

Drunk? Madison? How had she gotten drunk? Had it been Nicola who gave her the drink? For a long while, his brown eyes scanned her blue ones, trying to figure out if she was lying to him to make him feel better. His mouth opened and closed a few times, his jaw locking as he struggled to find something to say. What the hell was he supposed to say?

"Drunk?" he finally managed to say. Owen tried to hold onto his dignity in that one word. It was poorly recovered, all of the confusion he felt finding its way into the single word and making him sound like some kind of idiot. Which he was, but he would never admit to that, not in this situation and definitely not to Nicola or Madison.

Nicola never was very good with distinguishing someone's tone from one thing to another and she certainly liked to think she was decent at it, but with Owen making it that plain and simple for her, she was beginning to wonder if he was blatantly transparent or if she had gotten better at telling what someone meant from one thing to another. The disbelief that was written on his face and the way his features were contorted with utter perplexity to the silliest of little tics of his mouth - there was no doubt about it: he really had no idea what he had walked into. And if she had to be honest with herself, she wasn't sure what he waltzed right into either. Madison being drunk wasn't so bad, but Madison being drunk and triggering some sort of reaction by seeing Pocky and then kissing her was on a completely different level that she wasn't quite able to put onto a scale yet.

Holding one hand out and pinching the bridge of her nose, her breaths escaped in a shaky manner and she couldn't pin it on whether it was the sudden levels of adrenaline that completely plummeted or whether they were still high up there. Of all the questions Owen could've asked her, he gave a one word question. That was so helpful for continuing a conversation, thanks man. What did he want for an answer? For her to say that it was her fault that Madison was a complete, zombie-like ditz? Did he want confirmation to see if he misheard things? This was absolutely ridiculous.

Really... What should she say? Under any normal circumstances, she would've just said exactly what was on her mind without so much as a fear of being rebuked or criticized or anything. But when these two were involved, it never really was normal. At least, as normal as this damned academy could offer. Thinking too much about it would make her seem like a liar - trying to offer as much explanation as possible would come out as though she were making up some kind of story to place the blame on the only other person involved. She could save calculus problems, not real life problems. At least with math, there's one right answer. Technically. With an exasperated sigh, Nicola gave up on trying to keep her legs straight and sat down on the floor.

Owen certainly seemed tense. "Yeah... Drunk." A tired smile etched itself across her lips as she took the time to readjust her cap. "Dunno how she got her hands on the drink." That should be enough. That response should satisfy his hunger. If not, then she would have to prepare herself to do a bit more explaining, and if she had to be honest with herself, she'd prefer not to say anything more about the whole thing. It was all making her head ache with shots of pain.

Her guess better be right about why Owen was coming to her in the first place. After all, that special little holiday was coming up real soon and that seemed to be the only logical reason he would come to her... Then again, it wasn't. He did have other friends, right? There was no way he didn't. It couldn't be just her and Madison.

Damn all of this.

Once she managed to regain her composure, Nicola spoke with more clarity, albeit in between breaths here and there. Owen wouldn't kill her for this, right? Then again, he probably couldn't - even if he tried. It was just a guess and his reaction would be enough of a means of confirming why he was heading to her dorm in the first place. "Don't get the wrong idea. Not really into her like that." Sort of... She was kind of lying to herself here, possibly. Maybe. Perhaps. Fuck, that kiss was making her second-guess herself again.

Not really into her like that.

Despite these being words Owen had been hoping to hear for weeks, they had no reassuring effect on him. Instead, he felt his chest tighten. The possibilities that had whirled about his mind when she said Madison was drunk came to a screeching halt. Drunk had implied that she wasn't in her right mind, that there wasn't anything there, that the kiss would mean nothing tomorrow when Madison had a hangover and would regret her choices. Drunk meant she might not have feelings for Nicola.

But that meant nothing if Nicola had feelings for her. If Nicola was interested in Madison, she had a better chance, he was sure, having known the girl longer and experienced more with her. Not that he was jealous, how could he be jealous when he had never been given much of a reason to hope? Madison was her own human being, she made her own choices. They couldn't force her into anything. This wasn't some sort of young adult dystopian novel with a twisted love triangle where the one in the middle ended up with one person, leaving the other heartbroken and with a warped moral compass, possibly destroying the original friendship. No. He had to be the bigger person, he had to recognize that Madison and Nicola were still good people that he could continue to be friends with, no matter what happened between them.

The boy was frozen where he stood, his feet slightly splayed, his hands half-balled into fists at his sides, mouth hanging open slightly, unsure of what to say. He still couldn't catch his breath, the constricting of his chest preventing him from inhaling enough oxygen. Suddenly he was very conscious of his face, of his breathing, of everything that Nicola was looking at. He was an open book right here. His emotions were raw, fresh on the surface, and he had to try and shove them down while still getting answers. He didn't think he could do it.

Slowly, he drew in a shaky breath, bringing a hand up and running it through his hair, tugging lightly on the slight curls. It drew him to his full height, allowing him to breathe somewhat easier. Owen shifted his weight and took a few small steps, walking in a small circle before facing Nicola again. His head was ringing and he was light-headed. This was the first time he had been forced to face this. This whole having a crush on Madison thing had always been small, something that he only quietly hoped would come to fruition, but now that it was right in front of him, it frightened him. What would Nicola do? Would it even be good for Madison?

The hypothetical questions made his head spin again and he had to squeeze his eyes shut again to stop the hall from tipping him sideways. When he opened them again, he was composed enough that he could give Nicola a weak smile. Owen was sure it looked just as transparent as it felt, but he didn't care, not at this moment. If he could just get back to his dorm without becoming a mess in front of Nicola then everything would be okay.

"Drunk, of course," he said, as though it were perfectly normal for Madison to get drunk. His hands were on his hips again, his chest pushed out in order to keep his breathing normal. "Sorry if it seemed-- if I was getting the wrong-- Sorry."

The boy wanted nothing more than to get out of there. He was running out of things to say that didn't make him look like a selfish prick or sound pathetically desperate.

There were a lot of things that she would've figured would've had Owen jumbled up in a mess - this wasn't one of them. Owen had a lot of things that had been crushing on him from day one - and day one probably meaning the day the three of them met. Probably knocking Madison into the fountain and then dealing with her, the Pocky game, that one night with the monsters and hallucinations, that other time in the Lobby, and the arcade, and then the infirmary, and... what else? There was way too much worse that happened that something like this should've phased him in the slightest. And it wasn't like there was any implications that she and Madison were together at all; Nicola had thought that, if anything, they were the complete opposite. Friends, yes, but they conflicted and contrasted each other too much to do any more than that. Besides, it was kind of clear that there was some awkward tension between them. Kind of.

Watching the guy get flustered and fumbling around with his words was a disappointing sight. And here she thought that he was tougher than he looked. Maybe he wasn't the most intimidating person ever - excuse his height and everything regarding size -, but it wasn't like he was timid or anything. Owen had his own quirks and charms here and there and hey, he was a pretty decent looking guy compared to more than seventy-five percent of the world's population. She didn't know if it was a side-effect of having a gift or something, but the entire academy campus was filled with attractive people of all kinds: beautiful and dashing, adorable and mysterious, girly and tough. They were practically a fashion show with the fancy clothes replaced by fancy visual effects. Ten bucks it's designer babies. The technology and methods they could've used for finding a cure for cancer twenty years ago that was instead used to play creator with children. At least they found the cure by now.

Nicola liked to consider herself decent at reading people and figuring out their thoughts or what they had planned based off their expressions or body language; after all, speaking was only a quarter of how humans communicate, so it was only natural to become well-versed in it. Queasy, petrified movements, almost as though he was as stiff as a wooden board, how he was having a hard time breathing and everything, that really awkward and lopsided smile... Too easy. Her lips pursed as she shook her head, flicking tendrils of white that were clinging to her face away.

This was almost hard to watch and she was feeling a shred of sympathy that he had to walk in on that. But no way was she letting Owen out of this now. She still had a drunk Madison in her dorm and Brant would kill her or something. Actually, on second thought, he wouldn't really do anything about it...That still didn't dismiss the fact that it was a bad idea for Madison to stay for the night. They could get her to the infirmary or something, couldn't they? If they were lucky, Logan was there and he'd totally understand that she was drunk or something. He was the one who got the beer out that one night.

Another exasperated sigh found its way out her throat in between heavy-ladled breaths, and groggily, Nicola got back up onto her feet, her hand resting on the wall for support. She still felt tired. Kissing shouldn't be energy-intensive or anything, should it? The Pocky game didn't make her feel this exhausted. She barely ran any distance either. Her asthma was acting up. Yeah, that was totally it. Not adrenaline or anything else... Definitely not the kiss.

With a shaky laugh, slanted and piercing blue eyes rested themselves onto the honey-brown color of Owen's gentle and radiant eyes. "It's dumb hearing you screw up your words like that." She hated it when people apologized more than once without reason. The phrase lost its meaning if it was excessively used and it was more for the sake of saying it as a placeholder when they didn't know what to say than meaning they were actually sincerely regretful for their actions.

"You're helpin' me get Madison outta my dorm." An amused glint flickered in her gaze. "Then we can talk about why you came over."

Her guess better be right.

Hearing Nicola say something that was so, well, Nicola caused a rush of relief to course through Owen. Finally, his breathing mostly back to normal, he cracked a real smile, his chin dropping down so his gaze was lowered, giving him a moment to recollect himself. Something about the realness of Nicola's words dragged him out of the weird mindset, and he found his head clearing, allowing him to think better. He started to realize how strangely he had acted. Lifting his head and letting his arms drop to his side, he nodded his head, the smile on his face somewhat apologetic, but the words never rose to his lips.

"After you," he said, gesturing with an open hand for Nicola to lead the way back. It felt like a peace offering in a way, not that they had really been arguing, but for him, it meant that he was okay now. That he would be okay. He followed the girl back to her dorm room.