Max returned to their shared dormitory room to Cat crying at her desk. And not the timid, pitiful little sniffling whimper thing that she normally did when she was sad about something - this was full blown hysterics. Max rushed to her friend’s side and knelt next to where she sat huddled over her books and papers.

Cat screeched in surprise as she felt a hand on her knee. She backhanded Max away so hard, the slap echoed off the ceiling. Max simply gasped in surprise and held her cheek. Cat realized who’d she’d struck and immediately began sobbing even harder - huge, fat tears streaking down both her cheeks. She was splotchy and red. She’d been at it for a while.

“Cat! Cat! What’s the matter, what happened?” Max wrapped her arms around her friend’s waist and held on tight.

“He gave me an orgasm!” Cat cried, loudly, maybe too loudly… She immediately clamped a hand over her own mouth, afraid the patron had overheard her.

Max gasped again, “Who!? August?!” The way Cat cried when she said his name indicated it was definitely not the person who had done the deed. “No. Who?!”

“My first orgasm,” Cat whimpered into her hands.

“Cat, who?!” Max grabbed her friend tighter. “I won’t tell another living soul, I promise. What happened, Cat?”

Even more tears fell from her eyes and she wrapped her own arms around her friend and held on to her just as tight.

“Well then,” Max said, determined, “We’re just going to have to get August to you first, I guess.”

“Do I want August?” Cat asked. She was attracted to him, she had eyes, after all. But the way he’d spoken with her in conversation, she just didn’t know. She’d never had boy friends growing up. She wasn’t sure what was friendly versus flirting. Did he kiss her at the disaster of the Holiday Gala because he liked her, or because he wanted to get her in trouble, stake some sort of celebrity claim to her. She hadn’t spoken to him again since that night. She was terrified to see him again, not knowing the implications of doing so.

“He likes you. A lot,” Max answered at least part of her question. How Max knew that? God only knew. Cat certainly didn’t want to know what her roommate did, where she went, what she was forced to undergo, sometimes days or full weeks at a time. Cat figured they’d spent more nights apart than together since the night of the Freshman Mixer. Max kept her secrets close, to be sure.

“You think so?” Cat swiped her hand along the expanse of her cheek.

“I know so,” Max promised, swiping her hand against Cat’s other cheek. “Do you want a date?”

Cat blanched, “How?”

“Winter storms are forecasted for this week and the schools love a good opportunity for some cross country skiing when weather permits.”

Max winked. But Cat looked outside the window and noted that there wasn’t even snow on the ground. When and how would they be going skiing?