I sat in my psychology of abnormal behavior class, taking notes that were much more diligent than the ones I used to. Granted, I was pretty sure I owed my newfound note-taking skills to Calum, who’d given me pointers when I’d complained to him months ago when I was trying to study that I didn’t have enough material to go on.
Yeah. Months.
Strange how time passed so quickly when you were actually enjoying your life.
Granted, it wasn’t all rainbows and butterflies, but I was better than I was before. I had my guys, and I was constantly working on a better outlook of life with my therapist. The antidepressants helped too.
It’d been Calum’s suggestion, seeing a therapist, and Mason suggested I go to the doctor and see if they could do anything for me. My family had been supportive, although they didn’t quite understand it, still. To them, I had no reason ever to be sad, so why in the world wasn’t I happy?
I’d stopped trying to explain it to them, and they’d stopped asking, thank God. Some people, though they meant well, just didn’t get it. Neurotypicals, people who were born lucky because their brain was able to work right with all the chemicals and stuff going on inside their bodies. I had always been jealous of them, but honestly, if I hadn’t been me, I never would’ve met Mason or Calum.
Probably not, anyway, but I guessed that was something we’d never know.
Mason and I had gotten an A on our psychology project. That whole thing seemed so far in the past, it was unreal. Fall had given way to winter, and winter had then fallen to spring. Time never ceased to keep going. What was strange was that I wanted to slow it down. It felt like time moved way too fast these days.
No, wait. I wasn’t going to complain. It was a good thing that time went on, because I’d only gotten closer to both Mason and Calum. I was still a virgin, but I was opening up to the idea of sex with them.
One hundred and ten percent nervous about it, of course, but that was me about anything new. My therapist told me everyone gets nervous about some things; it was simply a part of being alive.
A new semester and new classes, Mason wasn’t in any of them anymore, but that was okay. We still met for lunch every day at the union. Calum still lived in the city, but I heard once his lease was up in a few months, he’d be moving back to town and telecommuting. After all, most of his work was online, so there was no reason he couldn’t work from home.
When my class let out, I quickly packed up, one of the first out of the room. I checked my phone, finding that Mason had already texted me. His class must’ve let out early, for he’d sent me a picture of him waiting for me in the union.
I smiled. He was ridiculous, but in the best way.
Calum didn’t text often during the day, but at night, it was another story. That man was nonstop, to the point where, if I was hanging out with Mason, Mason would try to steal my phone and text him back that I was busy. The two got along, regardless of whether they admitted it to themselves. Occasionally they got jealous of the other, but they never let it get in the way of what was important.
Crazily enough, what was important to them was still me.
And, you know, in return, they were everything to me.
I wore a new pair of jeans, along with a long-sleeved shirt. Today was an oddly warm day for spring, but with the breeze, it was cooled down quite a few degrees. I left the psych building, heading to the busy sidewalk as I texted Mason back. Call me the stereotypical college student, glued to her phone, I didn’t care. I was too smitten—yes, smitten—with Mason to put it down.
I accidentally rammed my shoulder into another girl’s, and I stopped, glancing at her, hurriedly putting my phone down. No beanie sat on my head, so my pink hair flew free in the wind. I’d let my roots grow out, so now there were about two inches of brown up top. I’d gone with a softer pink last time I dyed it, about a week ago.
The girl I’d bumped into had also stopped, and I saw she was walking