Taryn's legs were on the brink of collapsing under her feet like an unsturdy bridge over water as she laggardly climbed up the 7 sets of stairs to her hole-in-the-wall of a room in the near empty dorm floor, most of her colleiges either at practices or class, trying and eventually failing to becoming people they dream to be, drug use, alcohol abuse, and sexual addiction hindering their steps. Don't get Taryn wrong, these people were decent and very genial to her, Taryn always smiling her ironic smile at them, but she kicked the booze and they embelished in it. 'What fools', she thought to herself with a snicker, carrying the hefty load of fresh clothing in a black laundry backet to the right, brown doors with golden knobs closed from visitors, stars, hearts, and other cut-out shapes taped on with the names of the occupants doodled on in case you were so drunk, you needed to find your room in that childish manner, Taryn always decided, the whole ritual too 1st grade for her tastes, 'They should have taken the afternoon classes.'

Taryn smiled wickedly as she ripped her blue star off her and her roomate Sierriah's, a beautiful Indian girl with pale brown eyes and long, black, silky hair bedazzled by the Real World and Sylvia Pratt, door, letting the star flutter to the ground like one who couldn't fufill someone's wish as she tossed the basket on her unkempt bed, red and blue sheets tangled in a rainbowed mess. Her and Aiyana's different styles in...everything clashed together in an interesting and harmonious Indie-Modern Rock atmosphere, Taryn's glossy posters of Sum 41 and Incubus taped to the sky blue wall glinting light from Sierriah's homemade candels smelling of juniper and cinnamon, wooden beads framing the door and metallic stars sprinkled on the ceiling as a reminder of true beauty in the skies as she experienced that summer. She had been straightedge for almost 2 months, absolutely cold turkey since the end of the trip, her pride glowing and rising with every inhailed breath and every view of a naive drunken freshman tripping into her room by mistake when she was considered asleep, someone's true character shining through their glassy eyes and slurred speech in her opinon, her body was a different story. Feeling a bit lightheaded, she stumbled over to the small white refrigerator ajacent to the oak computer desk splattered with assignments and textbooks Taryn would eventually get to doing. She grappled for a bottle of Poland Springs and a few Advils scattered in a china dish for the dorm's general taking, Room 77 almost visited as much as the Nurse's station with all Sierriah's illnesses, none of which she deserved because of her honest, sweet nature. Swallowing some sweat from trickling off her hair and onto her pallid skin, she popped the brown pills in her mouth and took a swig of water, gasping for air like she was held underwater as a few stray drops of water dribbled onto her forest green spagetti tank top, diffusing into the privacy of her skin.

Their black cordless began ringing urgently, Taryn's nerves jumping with her body, a few more drops spilling onto her shirt as she looked about frantically for the phone, leaving the water on the floor and with hands and knees, crawling under her comforter to see it hidden within the warmth of the sheets. She clicked the phone on and breathlessly said ,"Yeah?", crumpling onto the bed from the waist up, her face embedded in the softness stroking her face with a motherly touch.

"Hey Sunshine," a familiar voice greeted, Taryn raising her body to a kneeling position, her eyes staring into the dreary, Upstate climate as if someone's was gazing back at her.

"Jessa?"

"The one and only," Jessa replied happily, hopping onto her yellow comforter, the nebulous material caressing her skin as she fell into the pillow, her eyes glaring into her white ceiling as if it was the white light cajoling her to cross to the Heavens.

"What's shakin, babe?" Taryn asked unsteadily, using her free hand to push her off the maroon carpet and back onto her feet, pressing the palm of her hand into her head as if to jam the slashing of pain creasing her forehead from her body, glancing down at students walking around the lush greenery to classes from the safety of her window.

"Nothing, really," Jessa replied nonchalantly, shifting on her bed to face the sun beaming into her window, slicing between leaves and early fall blossom's on trees, the flowers slowly starting to morph into a barely noticable brown, "I wanted to hear how your first 3 weeks of college are going. You're turning into a hermit on us, Tar."

"I know," Taryn replied somberly, reaching down to the computer desk to grab a picture framed with silver and frost, four girls beaming back at her with fribbling smiles, sitting comfortably on a corral fence in Texas, the four of them just completing an enjoyable, brisk ride through the delightful country side on the verge of morning, illustious splinters of light scaring away vengeful night from their feet and horses' hooves. "I've been busy with classwork and my job and everything. I've been changing, alright."

"Let's hope it stays for the better," Jessa replied with an appreciative smile, a hint of a warning fermenting through the phone lines into Taryn's ear. "You got that job at Sam Goody's, I presume?"

"You presume correctly," Taryn laughed back, exercising her daily use of impressive words she'd been learning in English 101, bending down to retrieve the capped bottle of water from the floor, "It's so hot. I get paid to listen to music and scan CDs."

"That is cool," Jessa agreed, becoming antsy on her side and soon wiggling so her back was pressed against the wall, her knees inches away from colliding with her chest, "Have you decided what your major is yet?"

"Law," Taryn admitted, tapping the half-full water bottle against her hip like a drumstick, her head bopping along with her tapping, "The summer made me realize my calling."

"How ambitious," Jessa replied, a bit surprised at Taryn's turn from music to law, rapping her fingers against the knees of her denim skirt, "You're very good at arguing."

"Damn straight," Taryn replied with a chuckle, returning to the fridge for a yogurt, her metallic green nails scraping against a container of strawberry yogurt. In victory, she yanked it from the fridge and gave a toast to the sky, peeling off the tin lid and searching around the tiny room for a spoon with her eyes, contorting her back in unnatural angles as her search progressed. A photograph of Taryn and Greg's rendevu onstage that Ashley begged her to take was tacked up next to Sierriah's awards for her adept academics grazed her eyes. "What's going on with you and Greg?"

"Things couldn't be better between us," Jessa confessed giddily, pulling a white, fluffy pillow from behind her back and cuddling it like she does with her stuffed animals, a smitten smile spreading across her face. "I saw him last weekend. We went to see the new Adam Sandler movie. It was hilarious."

A puzzled grimace jolted onto Taryn's face, never hearing more than "we're fine," or "it's okay," mutter from Jessa's mouth when it came to relationships, finally locating a Wendy's spoon by Sierriah's stereo, lunging for it as if someone would steal her treasure. "Isn't the 3 month anniversary coming up?"

"In 2 weeks and 5 days, but who's counting?" Jessa asked childly, this feeling of rejuvinated vigor, a natural high elevating for the once bleak Jessa, Greg's touch and kisses so addictive, she wished the day was longer and time crawled by instead of raced by when they were together.

"I mean the 3 month max," Taryn clarified her question, cradeling the phone against her shoulder and ear as she stirred the yogurt effortlessly, "You dump everyone you go out with after 3 months."

Jessa pondered for a moment, sitting up as straight as a school girl, a joyful yet frightening thought ready to be blazoned to the masses, or, to compensate time, at least Taryn, "I think he's the one, Taryn."

Taryn's throat gagged against the creamy yogurt sliding down her throat, punching herself a few times in the chest to assure unhazardous clearage, her chest droping to her knees, "You mean, THE one?"

"Yeah, but don't jinx it," Jessa warned in a mockery of caution, a flood of giggles breaking her dam of depression.

"I mean, wow," Taryn began astounded, never expecting Jessa to say those words if she dated half of New York in her lifetime, those words almost like a fable. "That's great. It really is. But what will everyone think, like Miss Bitch Heather?"

Jessa wanted to yell at Taryn for inhibiting self-conscious accusations at her time of happiness, Taryn being the definition of do what you want and fuck everyone else. But for once, Taryn was right, what would Heather think? Little spaw of a slut mother Jessa Bellefore falling head over heels for frontman Greg Raposo? Her heart rate began to jump against her ribcage, trying to run away from answering any questions; she could almost feel the pounding against her bones. "I haven't seen Heather at all this year," Jessa whispered, her brain celebrating and cheering without pretense that Greg may never have to find out he was a bet, "But Frost Valley is a big school."

"I think I have glorious news for you, once I think about it, Hun," Taryn announced with a spring in her tone, scooping out one last sensual spoonful of strawberry and dropping it in her mouth, cleaning off her lips with the back of her hand as she continued, "Word from home is that our good friend Heather moved with her family to Jersey. Her father got relocated there for his job or something, better pay or some shit."

"Too bad for the New Jersians," Jessa laughed, her heart sedating down to normal beats per minute, absolutely relieved with that bit of news.

"I gotta bounce, Jess," Taryn announced abruptly, her call waiting beeping like an annoying sibling between conversation, "It's probably my mommy asking when the hell I'm coming home. She actually WANTS me to be there. She said you changed be, you stupid Bitch! Haha, just kidding."

"I wasn't all me! I'm glad you guys worked out your differences," Jessa informed Taryn honestly, her voice droned with the anxiety between her and her own mother.

"It will happen between you two," Taryn assured Jessa in a caring tone, dropping the empty bottle into a grey trash can, a dense thunk echoing from the depths of the trash. "Just try and be there for her. You've told me how she's been toning down, realizing how much you mean to her." When Jessa walked in the kitchen door late that Tuesday night, elated yet depress from Greg's last kiss, thinking her mother would be out servicing some chauvenistic fool or crashed on the couch in a drunken coma, the first thing that crawled into her view was her mother eating alone at the oak table, her small, pensive bites signafying she was clouded in thought, her eyes not surrounded in a sheen of tears like they usually are after a drinking binge from her self-pity, her bleached blond hair nearly skimming across her macaroni. Like a cat, her mother's head bolted up from her plate, her eyes instantly glazing over in tears as Jessa looked at her with pity warping her picturesque features, slamming the door shut without looking back. Unexpectently, her mother stood calmly up from her dinner, walked over the black and white tiles on the floor, and hugged Jessa. Jessa stole a step back, this embrace something seldom shared between her and her mother in her lifetime, it scaring her half out of her wits. Her mother's embrace was strong, soothing, apologetic, her sobs ridged and crying with truth. Jessa softly wrapped her arms around her mother's bulky grey sweatshirt, hoping her departure and unwilling return would change her mother for the better. And it slowly was...

"I'm trying," Jessa sighed, taking her index finger and doodling over her comforter, "It isn't easy. I'll let you go, Taryn. See you soon."

"You bet," Taryn responded with a slight smile, "Thanks for calling." *Click*

Jessa tossed her white phone onto her white dresser standing firmly against her bed at the right, bouncing to the wood floor and gazing to the left at her tall closet door, the dress she bought yesterday with Celeste for Homecoming hanging onto the door like an ornament to a Christmas tree, Greg being the guy that would hold on to her arm, she hoped, for a very long time. Everyone would be jealous at her happiness, her real happiness, Greg and her oblivious to everyone else as they swayed atop their own Cloud 9. The dress was fabricated in a clay blue, frayed-hem sleeves fluttering at her shoulder like dark butterflies, a thin strip of white lace dipping along the low neckline. She ambled over to it, her fuzzy leopard print slippers leading the way to the closet as she molded the material between her fingers as if it were real clay and not the color.

"She's gone," Jessa whispered into the air, the thoughts still seeping into the contors of her brain, her smile augmenting as she let the material slip from her fingers. Heather Tobin was gone. Greg and her could live happily ever after like in fairytales. "She's gone," she repeated, lowering her body to the floor, wrapping her legs into a pretzel as her inner thought began to collide with conflicting ideas. 'How can you not tell him, Jessa?' one voice demanded in a light, airy voice like a mouse if one could speak, Jessa's eyes trailing over the intricate grain grounded into the wood, 'That's almost immoral. He will find out somehow, maybe even from Celeste.'

'What?' the other voice yelled back, this voice more raspy and bitchy, 'Celeste is your friend, your right-hand girl. What Greg doesn't know won't hurt him. You'll ruin what you have if you tell him he's a bet.'

After a few more boisterious minutes of the debating voices exchanging pros and cons, she rattled the voices from her head, her inner thoughts floating and dissapearing in the air like magic. She rose from her seat with a confident smile, her mind made up. Greg will never find out about the bet, there was no way. Or so she thought...