— Art didn’t even know why he’d let Patrick drag him to the middle of bum-fuck Virginia, he hated the country, especially for a ‘get-away’.

It was hot, Art missed his beloved A/C back at Stanford.. so much. Sweat had coated his skin the minute they crossed state lines (or so he said).

Then, Patrick had dragged him to a bar as soon as it hit seven o’clock and the sun started to set. Every girl looked the same; jean shorts halfway up their ass, crop tops, boots, and cowgirl hats. Almost every single one was a bleach blonde too.

Patrick had disappeared not even an hour in with some girl, leaving Art all alone at the bar, sweaty and ready to go back to California.

In the midst of his sulking he saw a face from the corner of his eye, that face being attached to a gorgeous woman. He hadn’t made eye contact, figuring if you wanted to speak to him, you would.