From the moment you set eyes upon Art Donaldson in your gen ed economics class, you knew you couldn’t be friends with him.

Sure, you could pretend to be friends all you wanted, but between those big, blue eyes, pretty smiles, and angelic blonde curls (and that’s not mentioning the times he’d take off his sweatshirt in class, only for his tee to stick to it and reveal the most enticing sliver of a lean, muscular build— but that’s completely besides the point) it was just about impossible to have purely platonic feelings for him.

I mean, it wasn’t like that wasn’t the same case for him. He was just kinda… shy.

And he wasn’t just a pretty face, no. He was sweet and gentle in a way that seemed rare for guys at Stanford. He was pretty smart, too, having some brains behind all that tennis.

You’d started your friendship after you’d been seemingly blessed by fate to end up his partner for a project.

And now? You were practically inseparable. You were in his dorm, studying for your upcoming econ exam (midterms were looming), half-asleep as you attempted to read from the textbook.

“Pro tip?” Art called from his desk. “Maybe go back to your dorm and get some sleep, yeah? It’ll do you some good.”

Oh, but it was so cold outside, and dark and unsafe at this time of night, especially for a girl like you. And hey, what’s the point of having a (guise of a) best friend if they can’t grant you some favors?