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fire."
    God, he made it so hard.
    "I'll see you soon, Mr. Davenport."
    "See you soon, Law School. Dream of me."
    "Oh, I will."
    The room felt so empty, so quiet, when we hung up. I wished I'd stayed with him, drinking champagne in front of the fire.

Chapter Seven
Vodka Confessions
     
     
     
    I'D BEEN DREAMING of Ash, a wonderful dream with waterfalls and monkeys and a hammock, when my roommate slammed the door and startled me awake, heart pounding from an adrenaline rush. "What the fuck, Bridgette?"
    She'd been gone all weekend. She looked tired, with bags under her eyes and her hair in an oily ponytail, like she hadn't washed it in days.
    I leaned up. "Where have you been?"
    She grabbed a change of clothes and headed to the bathroom. "Places. I've been places."
    "Brig, you promised the doctor you would keep an eye on me. Concussion, remember?"
    Her attitude drained away and she sat next to me, a half-smile on her face. "I'm sorry, Catelyn. I really am. I was just freaking out after everything that happened. We were all worried sick, and I thought you were going to die and I just… I just blew up. It won't happen again." She reached for her bag and pulled out bottles of vodka. "I brought apologies. How about a girls' night?" She looked at the sun streaming through the window. "Err, day. Girls' day."
    I checked the time. It was still early, which meant Ash was probably asleep, lucky dog. I almost protested, wanting to check with him about our next date, but I saw her eyes, how much she wanted this, and I relented. "Sure. That sounds fun."
    "Awesome!" She threw her arms around me and hugged hard.
    "Damn, Brig, you smell like cigarettes and old wine."
    She sniffed her armpits and scowled. "Yeah, I need a shower. Be right back." She stopped, staring at her bag, and pulled something out. "I almost forgot. I saw Ash on the way here. He asked if I could give this to you. He was heading over to see Jon."
    I took my jacket from her hands. I must have left it at his house, but why didn't he bring it to me himself? "Thanks."
    "Okay, give me a few minutes, and we'll start our screwdriver and sappy movie marathon."
    I tried to fall back asleep while she showered, but my brain was already too awake. Fortunately, Brig took a fast shower.
    She started Netflix and found an appropriately sappy movie, pouring us drinks that I only sipped at for fear of becoming drunk off my ass by noon. We'd watched three movies and were on a marathon-watching-frenzy of Sex and the City , the beams of sun through our dorm window turning to moonbeams, when I finally found the courage to hint at what I wanted to ask. "Brig, if there was something serious going on, you'd tell me, right?"
    Her eyes widened as she looked at me. "Of course. What do you mean?"
    I didn't want to accuse her of anything, didn't want to imagine her and Ash as anything but friends, didn't want her to think I didn't trust her. "Just, you know, we're best friends, right? So you'd tell me if something was weighing on you, right?"
    A tear slid down her cheek. "Of course." Her words were slurred.
    I looked at the vodka bottle and realized she'd had a lot to drink.
    "Hey Brig, maybe it's time to call it a night and get some rest. We have class tomorrow, you know?"
    She dropped her head onto my shoulder, the closing credits playing on the latest Sex and the City episode. "You're so lucky, Catelyn."
    "How's that?" I couldn't imagine why she'd think I was lucky, given our disparate lives.
    "Because, you have Ash. Sexy, rich, bad-boy-in-a-good-way Ash." She closed her eyes and my pulse raced as she continued. "I never told you, but I had the biggest crush on him for the longest time."

Chapter Eight
Back to School
     
     
     
    SEEING BRIDGETTE'S HANGOVER the next morning, I patted myself on the back for only sipping my drink, even though it meant I'd been painfully sober for her late-night confession.
    My phone rang as I left my dorm, bag packed full with wordy law books. "Hello?"
    "Hi,