5.
Somehow, I didn't anticipate that college classes would feel like a continuation of high school. I'd always thought that college was when you got to break away from the same old drivel and study subjects that actually interested you, but thanks to the mandatory general education classes, I was still stuck in English, Science, Math, and History, just like high school. Blah.

It didn't help that because I hadn't decided on a major yet, I didn't get to take an "fun" classes. I wasn't sure what I wanted to do with my life. Graduating high school hadn't given me any sort of clarity, and I sort of envied the people who knew exactly what they wanted to be when they grew up. Dylan and Luke both knew that they wanted to play football professionally. Dylan was going to school for kinesiology, and last I'd heard, Luke was majoring in physical education and wanted to be a teacher and a coach once his football days were over.

Kelsey was majoring in psychology, which didn't surprise me in the least. She was fascinated by how people thought, and with her tendency to play matchmaker, I could easily see her being a couples therapist. Ben was planning on playing football in college, but didn't think that he would make a career out of it. He'd settled on being a business major. And me? I had no idea what I was doing. I was just the same old high school Lilly, pretending to be a grownup.

At least now that classes had started, I had an excuse to avoid Avery. Things were worse than ever between us, since she had made it perfectly clear she thought Dylan was too good for me. It didn't matter that we weren't actually dating. I was still ticked off at her, and I wasn't about to try to make peace with her.
My first week of college flew by easily, and I fell into a pattern that minimized contact with my she-devil roommate. I had an 8:00 am class, and Avery was always asleep when I left in the morning, which made it easy to avoid her. If I hung out in the library and common area between classes, I had very little chance of seeing her during the day. Then, Avery went out most evenings, and I could hang out in my room with little chance of being bothered by her.
I should have known that our fragile peace would be short-lived, though. Nothing with Avery was ever that easy.

The first clue that something was off was that Dylan stopped texting me. Not that that was unusual, necessarily. He was busy juggling football practices and a full course load, so he didn't always have a lot of time to hang out during the week. Last year, when he'd first started college, I'd grown used to talking to him mostly on the weekends. But then, my worst nightmare came true: Avery came back to our dorm room with Dylan in tow.

I looked up as she barged into the room, and felt a little queasy as I saw her hand clutching Dylan's possessively. She glared at me defiantly, seeming to dare me to say something. I looked at Dylan, sure he must see the hurt and devastation written across my face. We weren't dating. I didn't care if he had a girlfriend. But seriously, out of every girl on this campus, he had to show up with Avery? And worse, he hadn't even warned me he was hanging out with her. How could he blindside me like this?

Don't jump to conclusions, Lilly, I chided myself, although it was pretty apparent to anyone with eyes that Avery was hanging over Dylan possessively.
My throat constricted, and I found it difficult to draw a full breath.

"Hey, Dylan," I said, trying to force the quaver out of my voice. "I didn't know you were coming over."

"He's not here to see you," Avery snapped, her voice dripping with disdain. "He's here with me. Now be a good little mouse and run along so we can have some privacy."

My face heated, and I met her glare defiantly.
"Excuse me?" I snapped. "This is my room too. I have every right to be here. If you want some 'alone time,'" I said, making air quotes with my fingers, "then why don't you skedaddle off to Dylan's apartment instead of trying to evict me?"

Dylan ripped his hand from Avery's and went over to me, his eyes boring into mine, imploring me to understand, although what I was meant to understand, I wasn't sure. He was free to see whoever he wanted, in theory. I just never thought he would be taken in by such a piece of work.

"Lilly, no one is kicking you out," Dylan assured me, glancing over at Avery as though he planned to play the mediator. "I'm sure Avery didn't mean that the way it sounded."

Actually, I was pretty sure Avery had meant that exactly the way it sounded, but I didn't see the point in arguing.

"How long have you and Avery been hanging out?" I asked Dylan quietly, trying to keep the dismay out of my voice.

Dylan gulped. "She's not as bad as you think," he insisted.

"How long, Dylan?" I repeated.

"Since Sunday," he muttered, avoiding my eyes. I arched an eyebrow at him, unable to believe what I was hearing. It was Friday. They had been hanging out for almost a week, and he hadn't thought to tell me?

"Some warning might have been nice," I growled, glaring over Dylan's shoulder at Avery, who was smiling widely, like a cat who had cornered her prey.
Dylan ran a hand through his hair, smiling sheepishly. "It wasn't planned. She showed up at football practice. Apparently, Avery is a really big football fan."

Yeah. I'll just bet. It must be her favorite place on campus: all the muscular, fit guys congregated in one place. Easy pickings for a girl like her.

I scoffed disbelievingly, and Dylan added defensively, "No, really, she is a football fan. We got to talking, and we actually have a lot in common. I really like her, Lilly. So please, do me a favor and try to play nice."

I gulped, torn between anger and hurt. I wanted to scream at Dylan, to tell him that I had been nothing but nice to Avery, even when she had been unspeakably rude to me. I wanted to ask him what he saw in her. Couldn't he see how shallow and vindictive she was? Was being pretty really enough to offset her personality disorder? And worse, why hadn't he told me? Dylan was supposed to be my best friend, and he knew how much Avery hated me. Why hadn't he at least warned me that he liked her.

"We're dating," Avery announced smugly, taking sadistic pleasure in my hurt. "You know, for real. Since apparently, you were so ashamed of your real boyfriend that you had to lie and pretend to be dating someone else. Unless...you felt threatened by me?" she asked innocently, her overly honey sweet tone demeaning me. "Poor Lilly. That's a little pathetic. I've never even done anything to you."

Bullcrap. Every fight we've had was instigated by Avery, and she very well knows it. But Dylan is nodded his agreement, as though he believes every word. Traitor. I thought he was my friend, and he's going to believe a girl he's known for a week over his best friend of three years?

"Is your self-esteem really that low?" she asks with fake innocence, a condescending smile on her face as she stepped forward to massage Dylan's shoulders. He melted at her touch, and I wondered what kind of evil spell the witch had worked on him, that he seemed so completely smitten.

"We aren't kicking you out of your room, Lilly," Dylan clarifies. "But, honestly, Avery says you've stayed in almost every night. Don't you want to go out and make friends? You've never been the type to just sit around."

After this conversation? Yeah, I'm thinking it's time to trade up to some new friends. With friends like Dylan, who needs enemies?

"Fine," I spat at Dylan. "Enjoy your one night stand with Avery. And next time you're going to stab me in the back, at least don't pretend like you're trying to do me a favor, okay?"

Dylan looks surprised that I'm angry with him, but really, what did he expect would happen? That I would fling my arms around him and Avery and congratulate them?

Dylan stares at me for a long moment, his face searching mine, and after a minute, his face turns up in a smirk. "Oh, I get it," he says finally. "You're jealous."

"What?"

He pulls me forward into a hug, crushing me in his arms, and I struggle to push him away, not liking where this conversation is going.
"You like me," he croons. "You like like me."

"Eww. No, I don't," I protest. Dylan is like a brother to me. And right now, I'm not even sure I like him as a friend, let alone as anything more."

"No, it all makes sense now," he says, his eyes widening as though he's had some sort of deep revelation or something. "We spend all sorts of time together, and you've never had to compete with other girls for my attention. It makes sense that you would start to get the wrong idea. And look, Lilly, I'm really sorry, but I just don't think of you like that."

I'm going to hit him. Seriously, I want to smack Dylan across the face to see if I can shake some sense back into his head. Clearly, he's taken one too many hits during football practice, because he has obviously lost his freaking mind.

"You're right honey," Avery coos. "That makes perfect sense. And it explains why she lied to me and claimed you were her boyfriend. She didn't want me to like you, because she wanted to keep you to herself."

Turning to me, Avery adds, "Don't be so selfish. Dylan told me all about your real boyfriend. Ben, right? You can't be dating him and expect Dylan to hang around you like a lost little puppy dog, never dating any other girls. He's not jealous of you and Ben. Why should you be jealous of him and me?"

Umm. Maybe, just maybe, because Ben and Dylan are actually friends, for starters. Ben doesn't hate Dylan for existing. Avery literally hates my guts, and I'm fairly sure that part of Dylan's appeal for her is hurting me. Well, if she wants to play like that, fine. So be it.

"You know what?" I snap. "Fine. Enjoy your alone time." To Dylan, I add, "Maybe as a courtesy, you can text me when you leave so I'll know it's safe to come back. But, then again, you haven't been courteous about any of the rest of this situation, so I won't hold my breath."

Slamming my sneakers onto my feet, I throw my phone into my pocket and fling the door open, relishing the feeling as I slam it shut behind me. If Avery wants a war, fine. I'll give her a war. Whipping my phone out of my pocket, I pull up Will's number.
Hey, what are you up to tonight? I text. Want to hang out?

If Avery hanging out with Dylan bothers me, and we have never been romantically involved, then me hanging out with Will, her friend with benefits, is sure to drive her crazy. Game on, Avery. Game on.