Randy stopped in his tracks and turned to look down at her. "Who did that to you?" He'd promised Ro that he'd look after Aimee and he took on the role very seriously. "And you tell me if it happens again."

Aimee winced. "I, I don't know exactly who, okay?" she shrugged. "It just ... In the acting class, we leave our bags by the door. Yesterday, when it was over, my bag was full of ink. So no, I don't know who it was, and if I don't know, I can't do anything, let alone you." She offered him a wry smile. "They'll get over it, whoever it is."

"Well at least you didn't have the books yet." He found the last of what they needed and he began to walk over to the cashier. "What time are your acting classes?" If he had to, he'd sit in there and make sure Aimee's stuff was safe.

"Four on Mondays and Tuesdays, ten on Fridays," she answered him promptly, knowing it was pointless to try and convince him not to go through with whatever it was he had brewing in mind. Her hand rummaged in her bag, coming up with her money pouch as they joined the queue. "What about you? I'd have thought you'd be surrounded by fawning bimbos by now."

Randy sat the books down onto the counter and pulled out his own wallet. "Fawning bimbos and posh trash have never interested me." He grinned and slid the books down as they got closer. "I like the thrill of the chase, the challenge of somebody who wouldn't think that they could be in to me."

"Oh, my gods," a voice interrupted Aimee before she could even begin to reply. "Samey, is this your big brother? My, my, didn't he get all the looks in the family?" Aimee didn't need to turn around to know who it was; Jocelyn Farah-Nichols, a tall, rich b*tch with beautiful features, who was quickly becoming the bane of her life.

Randy had just paid for his books when a more than snobby voice began to hurt his ears. He turned with the biggest smile and wrapped his arm around Aimee. "No, I'm her boyfriend and if you ask me, Aimee's the beautiful one." He smiled again and leaned to kiss Aimee, square on the mouth.

It was just as well Jocelyn and her little group of friends had their eyes on Randy, because otherwise his impromptu lie would have been blown completely out of the water by the look of stark astonishment on Aimee's face. As it was, the turn of his body into hers as he planted that kiss on her hid her face from them as her hand came up automatically to press against his cheek. "What're you doing?" she murmured against his lips. "You're going to get lumped in with me."

While this was going on, the rich b*tch and her friends appeared to be having a swift change of heart. They whooped teasingly as Randy kissed Aimee, laughing amongst themselves. "Well, in that case," Jocelyn added with a lascivious grin, "maybe the cute couple would like to come out partying tonight?"

"I'll explain later," Randy murmured against Aimee's lips before standing up and eyeing the mob of rich bitches warily. "You know, thanks for the offer but Aimee and I have somewhere else we'd rather, er, have to be. But thanks for the invitation."

"The invitation's always open, handsome," Jocelyn unleashed her most dazzling smile on Randy, ignoring Aimee now. She handed him a flier. "Drop in anytime." And giggling, she and her friends clattered away on their heels.

Rather than be in the centre of all that, Aimee had gathered up the books with a nod and a smile to the cashier, stepping a few paces away to wait for Randy.

"Started to get even?" Randy was in a playful mood, perhaps it was the spliff he'd had earlier. "You, get even with me?" There was a shake of his head and a soft laugh.

"Not with you." She giggled, hitting him with the bunched up leather. "With them." Her chin jerked in the direction of Jocelyn and her cronies, who seemed to have zeroed in on a group of lads.

"And just what would you do? If you could get even with them, how would you do it?" Randy was curious and turned to look down at her.

She shrugged, leaning back against the bench with her arms crossed over her chest. "I dunno," she mused with a soft sigh, studying the flirting group thoughtfully. "Find some way to show them up for the bullying, neurotic b*tches they really are."

"Well, the both of us see it. I think, one boy at a time, their friends will find out. Will be way too much drama and one or two will end up killing themselves." He shrugged then, indifferently.

She frowned unhappily. "That's not something I would wish on anyone," she mused quietly.

"Me either." Randy shook his head and pulled Aimee to his side, comfortingly. "Let's just hope it skips our year." He glanced around, looking for anything else to talk about. "So, got your eyes on any cute guys?"

Leaning into him, Aimee snorted with laughter at the question. "Hardly," she giggled. "With all the whores on display, no one's going to look twice at me, even if I did fancy them."

"Give it time." He smiled and pressed a kiss to her temple when he caught the rich b*tch staring at them. "Their made up beauty will fade with the newness of a school year. They'll be fawning over you in no time."

She grinned, glancing up at him when his lips left her temple. "They'll have to get through my boyfriend first, though, won't they?" she chuckled, poking at his stomach.

"I'm sure you can dump your boyfriend if the right fella comes along. And I'd take a dramatic step back and give the 'I'll always be here for you' speech that people give when they're dumped." He laughed and lifted his hand and extended his middle finger for the b*tch that couldn't stop staring.

"And if the right fella doesn't come along? What happens then when you want to get laid?" Aimee teased, knowing full well that pretending to be in a relationship with her wouldn't stop him from spreading his groin joy around the campus if the mood took him.

"Now this ain't about me, so don't try to change the subject." Pulling his arm from around her, he got up and picked up her bag as well as his own. "Come on, I'm tired of holes being stared at in the back of my head."

Aimee frowned slightly, glancing over to the staring group with seeming disinterest. "They just want you for your body, you know," she grinned as they stood up, reaching to take her bag from him.

He kept her bag, though, as he walked to the door and held it open for her. "Could care less what they want. The b*tches are way too shallow for me. Too much air upstairs, if you ask me."

"Give it a couple of months, they'll have filled up the airholes with, you know, actual thought processes," she shrugged, displaying a naive assumption that everyone went to university to learn.

"Yeah, well. She just wants you to be alright. I'm the big bad boy in all of this. You? She loves you and thinks I ought to do right by getting on my knee and giving you a ring." He snorted then. "As if."

"Oh, for crying out loud, I'm not even twenty yet, I'm not getting married!" Aimee creased up with laughter, leaning against the wall nearby to keep herself upright. "You should tell Ro about all that, she'd find it funny."

"Ha! Ro'll tell me how bad it is to be dishonest and guilt me into telling Ma the truth. Who would have thought I've not nailed anybody since we got here, huh? And that is the truth."

"Not for lack of candidates, though," she grinned, straightening up. "I can name at least a dozen people here - guys and girls - who'd drop their pants if you so much as winked at them."

"Yeah, right." He snorted and stopped at a bench to put the bags down. "Unless they're incredibly horny and desperate, I don't stand a chance when there's guys like him walking around." He jerked his chin in the direction of Chad Beckingham-Steele, local jock star, actor and campus teddy bear. "He's got it all. Gorgeous, sweet, good grades. He's really going to go somewhere."

"Not everyone likes sweet," Aimee said, although her tone was ever so slightly absent-minded as she looked over at CBS. He was in a couple of her classes, one of the few people who'd actually spoken to her as opposed to attempting bullying. "Besides, you've got something he definitely hasn't," she added, in all her naivete. "Experience." She smiled, bumping his arm with hers.

"I'd be happy to give him some of that." He swung his gaze back onto Aimee and it was full of lust and humor. "But I am pretty sure he's straight as an arrow. Hell, with the bimbos that clamor for his attention and the amount of attention he gives them, he has to be straight."

"Betcha he isn't," she laughed teasingly. "Betcha he's repressed, waiting for the right guy to come along and break him out of his shell. I mean, look at that." She nodded over to the boy in question again as he went through the motions with yet another blonde bombshell. "He's not even looking at her."

Randy glanced over and then hurriedly turned back, red faced. "He was looking over here!" He nudged Aimee with his knee. "God, now I feel like a dork. He's going to think I'm staring."

"Like he'd care," she grinned. "Everyone stares at him, he's gotta be used to it by now." She was right, too; the campus pretty boy couldn't walk through a room without all eyes being on him.

"Well I care. I aint a dork." He slowly turned around and then hurriedly put his attention on Aimee. "If he comes over here, I'm going to kill you." He laughed though and nudged her once again.

Laughing with him, Aimee couldn't help the vaguely smug grin that came over her face. "You can't kill me, you love me too much," she declared impishly. "Besides, who'd keep you in check if I wasn't around?"

"Do you always have to be right?" Reaching out, he playfully tugged her hair. Then his eyes went wide and he began to hyperventilate. "Oh God, he's coming over here."

Randy wished for the comfort and confines of his leather jacket; but in this heat, he had nothing to hide behind. He tried to play it cool, leaning back and even waving to CBS. But CBS didn't notice. One of his rugby mates met him not ten feet from the bench that Aimee and Randy were sitting on. There was a hug, a manly one armed affair, but then a brief moment of awkwardness before the two boys back pedaled and started to toss the ball around.

"Well I'll be damned." He forgot that he'd acted like a scared schoolgirl with the realization that CBS was at least bi-sexual.

Simply because Randy was behaving like a girl, Aimee watched CBS and his friend a lot longer than she would normally have done, grinning as she turned back to her friend. "See, I told you," she snickered. "He likes to sheath his sword in brown leather."

"He could sheath it in my leather," was chuckled as he reached out and ruffled Aimee's hair. "Maybe we can really scandalize my mom and have a threesome!"

"Dammit! Aimee, stop!" He finally caught up to her and grabbed her by the arm. "You're no dead weight. I really like being around you." he stepped around her and gazed down into her face. "But I'm afraid of losing my best friend."

Spun about by the arm, she stared up at him, trying so hard to hold onto that anger but feeling it slip away as he spoke. "How would it change anything?" she asked. "It's not like we don't already know the worst about each other."

"Because we don't have expectations. When you're in a relationship, there's all these expectations. And it pulls best friends to pieces." He was actually panting and finally let go of her arm. "And I can't imagine life without you in it."

Her lips twisted as she bit at them, her gaze glancing away as she tried to calm herself down. "Then ... then what do we do?" she asked with a shrug, avoiding his eyes. She didn't want him to see the hurt that came with his assumption that she'd ever expect anything from him.

"I don't know." His shoulders slumped and he ran a hand through his hair. "Already we're acting strange. I wish I hadn't said anything."

"No, it's my fault." She sighed, rubbing her fingers hard over her forehead. "I'm sorry, I should've just kept my mouth shut. Why don't we just forget anything got said at all?"

"No, it's my fault. I've seen this coming ever since the day I almost knocked Shakespeare out of your hands. I tried to avoid it, but..." He shrugged then and gazed down at her. "I'm sorry I hurt you."

"It doesn't matter." And to her credit, she did try to be sincere about that. She didn't want him upset or blaming himself over anything; she knew how destructive his personality was. "Really." She reached up and hugged him briefly before stepping back.

He received the hug and sighed as she stepped back so quickly. "Fuck, I gotta go. I'll see ya, Aimee." In his eyes, he'd just lost his best friend. Hiking the bag up onto his shoulder, he turned and started to walk away.

Whatever she'd been expecting, it hadn't been for him to walk away. And that hurt. For a moment, she stared after him, her face twisting in an unsuccessful attempt to hold back tears. She'd had a best friend for a matter of months, and now, because of her stupidity, he was gone. Just like that.

Randy dragged his feet in the hopes that she'd call out to him. In his mind's eye he could see them rushing together with kissed apologies. There was a deep sigh of longing as he realized that he was truly alone, once again.

In the middle of her misery, Aimee heard the one voice she really didn't want to. "Trouble in paradise, Samey?" Scrubbing at her eyes, she glared over at Jocelyn, who appeared to have thoroughly enjoyed watching what amounted to a break up.

"Just ... f*ck off, Jocelyn," Aimee told her, turning to walk away. Heartbroken for the first time in her life.

Now that he did hear. He turned around and walked back over to Aimee's side. "Rehearsing, b*tch. Keep your nose in your own business." His arm was tight around Aimee's shoulders. "Come on, babe. I think your groupie is starting to become a stalker."

There was a shocked gasp from Jocelyn and her friends at Aimee's expletive, but Randy's reappearance saved her from a cruel retort or seven. Instead, he managed to insult them as well, and they watched the departing pair with narrowed eyes.

Her expression of outraged amusement was so worth the teasing. And if he was paying attention, Randy would also note the interest in her eyes. "Don't you dare," she laughed, waggling a finger in his face. Classic case of mouth saying one thing, body saying something entirely different.

Randy was very good at reading body language. It was part of the profession that he was so skilled in. "You want him, don't you?" His arm fell from her shoulders and he grinned. "You really want him."

And the blush got darker. "Well ... not just him, obviously," she admitted awkwardly, fidgeting. "I dunno, I just ... I want to see you with him, and, and, and, and if I happened to be involved, well, you know, that's, that's ... good?"

"Aimers is a kink! Who woulda thunk it?" He couldn't help it and moved back to put his arm around her. "Sounds like a healthy fantasy to me."

Groaning with smiling embarrassment, Aimee let herself get tugged against his side. Now it was almost impossible not to keep glancing between CBS and her best friend. "Well, so long as it's healthy, I guess I have nothing to fear, right?"

"Depends on the size of his cock." He laughed then. "Guys built like that sometimes take stuff that makes their junk fall off."

"You wouldn't let him hurt me though, would you?" she grinned. "Because if it's going to be a not-fantasy, then I want all of it, not just half."

"Of course I'd make sure he didn't hurt you. I don't think he has it in him to hurt a flea." He grinned and pulled her even closer to the dorms. He really didn't want to entertain the thoughts of a threesome any longer.

Giggling, Aimee found herself being steered toward the residences and away from the tempting CBS. "I could hurt a flea," she informed him, babbling nonsense now. "Well, I mean, if I could find it, I would hurt it, but they're very small, you know, and you only know they're there if they bite you, but by the time it hurts they've moved on and ..."

"Aimee, are you drunk?" There was a bemused grin on his face as he gazed down at her. "Because you sure sound like it."

"How could I be drunk?" she demanded in mock offence. "Unless you're spiking your pheremones with alcohol, there is no way in hell I'm drunk."

"If this is what pheremones do, I can't wait to see what foreplay does." He chuckled then and it carried over to his next words. "You're going to be a screamer."

"- and anyway, I don't drink much, and - what?" She blinked, stopped in mid-flow by his allusion to what she was going to be like in bed. "Is, is that ...good?"

He continued laughing, this was all so surreal. "Well I'm not sure about Chad, but I like a squirmer and a talker or screamer. Shows how into me she is."

"Well, you know I squirm," she snorted with laughter, rolling her eyes. "Look at me the wrong way and I squirm so ... I'm sorry, what are we talking about?" Her head tilted back to let her look at him in mild confusion.

"Are you kidding me? Such a goof." He shook his head and opened the door to the dorm. "We were talking about sex, screamers, talkers and squirmers."

Aimee blinked, the blush returned full force as she slipped through the door. "Excuse me, we're making conversation about sex on the way to my dorm room?" she laughed. "Gods, you're really aptly named, aren't you?" She poked at his tummy as she started up the stairs, giggling.

"Me, too." His expression softened into one that he rarely showed to anybody. He looked vulnerable as he licked his lips, as his head dipped for another, deeper kiss.

Aimee all but melted into that kiss, touched deeply by how gentle, how vulnerable he was letting himself be with her. She really didn't know what she was doing, instinct guiding her where experience couldn't, her fingertips teasing softly against his hair, behind his ear. Her lips curved into a grin against his as a thought occurred to her. "Chad's going to be heartbroken."

He laughed against her lips. "So he will. But I share my girl with nobody." He didn't even give time to let it sink in what he said before he was kissing her again.

Her response was swallowed in his kiss, and she quickly found that when Randy was kissing her, all she could think about was Randy, how good it felt, how he smelt and tasted. Her hands began to wander from his jaw to his shoulders, timidly caressing his neck as her tongue slipped out to taste his.

Her soft tongue against his own was Randy's undoing. He broke the kiss and pulled away from her. "Need to stop for now. We'll go too far too fast."

A little breathless, her eyes snapped open to let her look up at him, the faintest mew of disappointment on her lips before her mind caught up with what he'd said. She nodded, swallowing as her hands smoothed down his chest from his shoulders. "I know," she agreed softly. "It's so hard, though."

He closed his eyes and laughed as he pressed his forehead against hers. "You have no idea how right you are. It is very hard."

She giggled a little, not entirely sure she was following, but happy to smile and laugh with him. A thought occurred to her. "Your girl?"

"Yeah." he nodded and kissed her briefly. "Don't let it go to your head." He turned from her then and walked to the middle of the apartment.

She was left staring at the place where he had been standing for a long moment, before her hands fell to her sides and she moved after him. "You do realise studying is going to be really hard now?" she laughed, poking his stomach as she stepped past.

"No, it won't." He sucked in his stomach and grabbed her hand. "Study time from after dinner until eight, then our time after that. See, I am still getting paid to be your tutor. So business first, pleasure last."

"Yes, mother," she pouted teasingly, tugging on her hand in his grasp. "So when's dinner?"

"Soon as you make it or it's delivered." He lowered himself onto the sofa and put his hands behind his head.

"You lazy bugger," she laughed, grabbing up a pillow to hit him with. "Curry okay with you?" From a small mountain of menus, she extracted the right one and thumped down onto the seat beside him to inspect it.

"Not lazy, I earned it. Being your bodyguard is hard work." He chuckled and put his feet up on the couch and into her lap. "Curry sounds great now. But tomorrow you may regret it." He made a rude noise with his mouth and then laughed.

She stuck her tongue out at him, giggling as she pulled his sneakers off his feet. "I'm not one of those weird veggie freaks," she snorted, rolling her eyes. "And I don't eat loads. So we're sharing." She leaned over to show him the menu. "What do you fancy?"

He put his arm around her shoulders when she leaned over him. "I fancy you." He kissed her cheek and then looked at the menu. "Oh, you mean for supper. Yeah, um, chicken?"

Aimee chuckled as he kissed her cheek. "How is that supposed to make me behave myself?" she laughed, leaning into him. "Chicken's good ... korma? Or vindaloo?"

"Vindaloo sounds more fun." He grinned and moved his arms to rest on the arm and back of the couch. "And if you want to behave, I'll keep my hands right where they are."

"You're the one who set the rules," she reminded him with a sweet little smile. "C'mon, shift your legs so I can get to my phone."

So what were they now? Good friends still, that was plain. But now there was that little something else that had been brewing over the year, something that their friends had noticed and smiled at, but the two teens hadn't even realised was there ... until it happened.