I smile at Nanna as I hand over a small box of donuts and set two take-out boxes of Chinese food between us.
    "Adrian, you truly spoil me in my old age," she giggles at me, taking a bite out of a lemon filled doughnut. A glob of filling plops onto her shirt, and I can't help but wonder if it's genetic.
    "Nanna, you spoil me all the time."
    "That's what grandmothers are for, sugarplum."
    We eat happily, listening to some old country tunes and talking about various things. Apparently there's a gentleman here who she thinks would be quite attractive if he'd stop intentionally shitting himself.
    "How are things with this mystery hottie?" Nanna pokes at me with her chopsticks.
    "We're getting together after lunch. We worked on our project a bit during class this week, but we didn't have much time during class. Ms. Sumner - I swear I thought her name was Summer, she's so bright and cheery -anyway, Ms. Sumner thinks our class time should involve more than the project so out of the whole hour and a half period, she's given us 25 minutes each class to work on the story. I'm glad my partner is so willing to get together outside of class to work on it, because it would not be possible to complete it otherwise. I've always hated group projects. Why, Nanna, why must they put me through such torture?" I enunciate the last words and drape myself dramatically over the back of my chair, nearly toppling it backwards.
    "So you can meet my future son-in-law, of course," Nanna replies, a twinkle in her eyes.
    I make a shooing motion and we break into giggles. All too soon it's 3 o'clock and I have to leave to meet up with Demian. I promise I'll update her when I visit this weekend, and kiss her goodbye.

---------
    I stand awkwardly outside of the gym, waiting for Demian to come out. I keep getting glanced at by guys entering and leaving the building, likely because I'm definitely not the type of guy to be here. I'm slender and all my muscle comes from carrying books and walking a lot.
    After waiting for ten minutes, I remember that I have his number and send him a quick text.
    <I'm outside> <The gym, that is>
    A few minutes later Demian makes his way down the steps, wiping sweat off his face. I blush and look down. Have I mentioned that he's attractive? Because he's very very attractive in this moment, and I do not need those thoughts when we're about to go to his room and work on our project.
    "Let's go."
    He doesn't wait for a reply, just keeps walking. I quicken my steps to catch up and we walk in silence to one of the dorm buildings. He scans his key-card and as we walk through the lobby several students stare at us from couches until Demian looks at them. He's glowering, and I'm once again reminded that he's known for not liking being around people. That must be why he chose to have us work in his room today, to escape all the other students.
    I've never been in the dorms here, but they're similar to the ones at the other campus. He lets us in to a small room and points to the left side. I assume that must be his bed and desk. It's very neat and orderly. Judging by the very different state of the bed on the right, it appears he has a roommate and they do not share the same organization tendencies. He slides a chair over from the desk on the right and points to it before walking over to the closet and pulling out some clothing.
    "Showering first," he says, pointing his thumb at the door. "Feel free to set up. I won't be long." He mumbles over his shoulder as he leaves the room.
    This definitely wasn't how I was expecting things to go. Then again, I can't say I had any expectations. Pulling out my notebooks and laptop, I rearrange the desk to better fit two people and begin typing a bit more of the concept story we'd started. I know it's called 'creative writing,' but I really wish I had a better idea of what Ms. Sumner was looking for with this assignment.
    About five minutes later I hear the door open and am a bit surprised that he was so fast. "I wrote the first two paragraphs a-and did a basic outline fo-" I turn to see someone who is definitely not Demian setting his bag down by the closet. "Ah uhm, h-hi, I-I'm Adrian," I say awkwardly, my mind going blank as to what is the proper way to introduce myself to someone new.
    The guy gives a laugh, running his hand through his short blonde hair. "Nice to meet ya, Adrian. Name's Isaac," he states, tossing his sneakers aside and flopping onto his bed. It looks like he's not going anywhere anytime soon. Great, this was unexpected. I love unexpected. Not.
    I fidget a bit, unsure what to do before blurting out, "I'm Demian's p-partner. He's taking a sh-shower but should be b-back soon. O-or I can step out until he comes back, if you'd prefer."
    "It's all good, man. You can chill here," Isaac snorts, propping himself up on his elbow to look at me. "Zombie project, yeah?"
    I nod and look down at the floor, feeling very out of place.
    "How'd you get stuck with Demian?"
    I furrow my brow, concerned by his wording. "W-we were the last to find a partner," I whisper towards the floor.
    "Sorry to hear that," he states, and I look up at him.
    "I-It's fine, re-really," I say and try to give him a smile that I'm sure came across as more of a grimace.
    "You guys getting along?"
    I'm not sure why he's asking or how I should respond. "Uh," I stutter, awkwardly shrugging my shoulders and looking around the room, "We - I - Maybe?"
    "Maybe?"
    I shrug again. I really don't know if we get along. We don't seem to hate working together, even if we don't talk much.
    "You're the one who dumped a cup of soda on him, yeah?"
    At that I turn to face him, wide eyed. "It was an a-accident!"
    Isaac scoffs, "Oh yeah?"
    I nod, "Y-yes. I'd never do that on purpose!"
    He raised an eyebrow at me and gave a humored smirk, "Because you're afraid what he'd do?"
    "N-no," I state, shaking my head, keeping my eyes towards him. "I-I'm not afraid of that. But even if I was, h-he - I wouldn't-" I take a deep breath to calm my nerves. "I'd never do that to someone intentionally, even if I were afraid of them. O-or angry. People shouldn't be treated that way." My face was burning and it was taking everything in my power to keep from looking down.
    Isaac just nods and makes a face, but I can't determine what he's thinking.
    "He's not so bad," Isaac finally states, sitting up. "Hard to talk with at first, but-"
    The door swings open, interrupting whatever Isaac was about to say. Demian's dark hair is glistening with remnants of his shower water, and I duck my head, thankful for the distraction.
    "Hey Dems, took long enough?" Isaac laughs, flopping back down on his bed. Demian hums in response while I focus on pulling up the page I'd been working on, trying to calm down enough to focus on the project.
    The next hour is spent with us going back and forth over notes, barely speaking. It wasn't an awkward silence though, just one due to being productive and very concentrated. We're more than halfway done with the project when Isaac announces he's ordering pizza and asks what we want.
    "Cheese or supreme," Demian responds lowly, not looking up from his notebook.    
    "A-anything is fine with me. Th-thank you, Isaac," I say tentatively.
    "'Kay, be back in 20," he says, grabbing a ring of keys off the wall and bounding out of the room. Man on a mission, I guess.

-------
    We pause to eat the hot pizza, sitting in a circle around the desk Isaac pulled over. I'm glad for the break. We've been writing for hours now, and I'm not sure we'll get it finished before the end of the day. I don't even know how long I'm supposed to be here. We never set a time for me to leave, and I don't really want to ask about it.
    Demian stretches and glances at the clock, running his hand through his hair. "We should stop for tonight."
    I nod and thank Isaac for the dinner, heading for the door.
    "Tomorrow after 5?"
    I look startled over at Demian. "W-what?"
    "Tomorrow, for the project."
    "No," I say, shuffling my feet, thinking about my plans for Saturday. A look crosses Demians face and I quickly add, "I mean, I can't at that time. Would earlier work? O-or I'm free on Sunday after two?"
    His face returns to the impassive look it usually has. "Okay. Two-thirty. Meet outside the dorms."
    "Two-thirty," I agree, nodding. I flash him a quick smile and leave the room.