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God maybe my grandmother was right, maybe I did need to get laid. I glanced at the clock on the oven. Almost eight. The girls would be here soon, though probably fifteen minutes late, knowing Cass. In all my life I'd never met anyone as unaware of time as Cass. She was never on time, to the point where Tom and I often told her fifteen minutes earlier so we didn't have to wait.

I put the finishing touches on the food, and carried them over to the table with Carol darting in and out of my legs like it was a race. I swear the cat was trying to trip me.

“Okay Carol, come over here.”

She bounced over to her food bowl and waited anxiously while I poured in some biscuits. I swear she looked up at me gratefully as she chewed down mouthfuls of salmon flavoured delights.

I could hear the girls giggling in the hallway five minutes before they reached my apartment. I did what I had to when anyone other than my tight circle of friends came over. I popped a pill. I waited anxiously for them to reach the door. Do I open now? Do I wait? The indecision was making me feel sick. The pill was slowly kicking in, I could feel the anxiety easing. I know longer felt like it was suffocating me. Now it was just there. Waiting.

“There are other residents to consider, you know, girls. Get in here.” I teased, holding the door open. I forced a smile. They shuffled in, kissing and hugging me on the way.

“Mel was just telling us about her new boyfriend.”

“I’ve seen him twice. He is hardly my boyfriend.” She argued, unable to keep the smile off her face. They shuffled out of their coats and hung them on the back of the door.

“Tell me about him. How did you meet?” I pushed them toward the couch, motioning to the food and glasses. I just needed them to sit down and focus on something that wasn't me. Cass set the alcohol down on the table, and poured a glass of wine for each of us. She glanced at me. I knew my mask didn't work on her. She was too in tune with me.

“There is not much to tell. I met him at the gym. He is a few years older than me, he works in a stockbroking firm.” She shrugged her shoulders. “He’s nice. I'm seeing him again on Sunday.”

We all giggled at Mel's attempts to sound casual. She was clearly crushing on the guy. I began to settle down as the girls chatted amongst themselves. It was enough just to reduce it down to a level I could handle. My nerves were slowly settling back into their places. The anxiety never left though. I rarely felt no effects of the anxiety, even with the medication.

“I haven't seen you this way since Bill Pompton in year six.” Kally snorted, ducking as her sister tried to swat her.

“Bill Pompton!” shrieked Mel, laughing. She stomped her feet in delight. “I was, what, twelve? I just wanted the bastard to kiss me! All he wanted to do was play computer games.”

I caught Cass staring at me again. She smiled, and winked, tucking a loose strand of red hair behind her ear. That was Cass all over. Any social situation I was involved in, she'd spend more time was checking in on me than she did enjoying herself. I had trouble joking about my childhood, and she knew that. I'd missed out on the little crushes and boyfriends and stuff like that. I couldn't blame Mel though. It wasn't like she knew. Why shouldn't she share her latest crush with her friends? I listened to the girls chatter away while I grabbed a handful of DVDs from the cabinet. I thrust them at Cass. I squeezed her hand as she took them from me, my way of telling her I was okay.

“You choose.” I instructed, falling into my seat, already exhausted. I felt my phone fall out of my pocket. Fishing around under the cushion I pulled out a crunchie wrapper, a hair tie, and finally, my phone, or rather Tom's phone. Carol appeared out of nowhere like a ninja to take possession of the hair tie, before flying into my bedroom.

I had handled my phone more today than I had in the last year. All because of a boy, or rather a man. A man I hoped had replied to my email.

Emma,

Wow. Fantastic work. You don't need my help at all. I love the way you manage to get right inside the victims head, you certainly did your research on this one. With the second piece, I shouldn't do this, but I have attached some court documents from a recent case I was working on. This, along with what you can find in the media, along with the victim impact statement should be enough to finish the essay.

On another note, email me any time. I can imagine how hard it would be to be at home all the time. If you ever just want a fri

end to chat to, I'm your guy.

Simon.

I read, and re-read the email over and over. My heart pounded, my palms felt sweaty. He's my guy? I blushed. Wow, twenty and my first crush, I thought. It was all the symptoms of a panic attack, but in a good way. I wanted to know everything about him. Cass had finally decided on The Notebook, and was rolling through the credits. She glanced over my way.

“You ready?”

“Just a minute.” I flicked my laptop open. Simon Anderson, NYC University. The first site was the school homepage. After navigating my way to the Professors page, I clicked on his profile and gasped.

“What is it?”

Shit. I needed to reign in my gasps. They attracted way too much attention. I swirled around in my chair, trying to block the screen off. Cass had appeared from nowhere. She pushed my arms aside and squinted at the screen.

“What is-Why are you looking up Professor Anderson?” She looked confused. I blushed, not sure of what to say.

“He was helping me with an assignment. I just wanted to see what he looked like, and what he does.” I explained as Cass sat down next to me.

“You could have just asked me.” she reminded. “I took the class too.”

Shit. I'd forgotten about that. Could I look any more like an idiot right now? I nodded numbly, mumbling something incoherent about essays.

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