The following day at lunch, Keeley flatly asked, "What is this?" Aaron had just placed a small gift bag on the table in front of her as she studied for her Spanish test.

"Study fuel," he replied, settling into the chair beside her and casually eating his lunch.

Hesitantly, she opened the bag. Inside, she found a large baggie filled with red, green, and purple Skittles. Either he'd found a place that sold individual colors in bulk, or he'd painstakingly sorted through dozens of packs to select only the citrus flavors. She suspected the former; she couldn't imagine him undertaking such a mundane and time-consuming task for anyone.

Although a gift, it felt like a victory lap from the previous day, so she scowled. "You're the worst," she muttered.

"You're welcome," he said, as if she'd paid him a compliment.

His ego was astounding. Ignoring him was the best option; he often surprisingly allowed her peace and quiet when she did.

Sometimes, she wondered if he pursued her simply to be near her, but dismissed the thought as foolish. It was ridiculous, sentimental thinking. He wouldn't do such a thing.

Still, she suspected a twisted motive behind his constant attention. He had to be toying with her; he had absolutely no reason to genuinely like her. Who would like someone who so obviously resented them? Even if he did, it wouldn't last. He'd moved on before. His sincerity was, at best, flimsy.

She pushed aside these thoughts and returned to her study guide. She could read Spanish well enough, but struggled with verb conjugation in writing and speaking—you lose language skills if you don't use them, and Keeley hadn't practiced since high school, before her rebirth and having to retake the class.

Part of the test involved short essays, and writing even a coherent paragraph felt like a miracle. As the saying goes, though, C's get degrees. A poor performance on that section wouldn't be catastrophic; her college acceptance remained valid as long as she maintained a C average or higher in all her classes, and she currently had a B+ in Spanish.

The school year felt excruciatingly slow. Graduation was June 2nd, and it was only mid-April. It was amazing she'd survived this long, surrounded by so many crazy people—Aaron, primarily.

Despite the stress, her grades hadn't slipped. Studying provided a welcome distraction from the ongoing soap opera of her life, even after living it twice.

Speaking of soap operas…a hand slammed on the table, startling Keeley so violently that her textbook fell to the floor.

Aaron remained unfazed. "What do you want, Lacy?"

Lacy pouted prettily and snuggled up to him. "Our table feels empty without you, so I decided to join you."

"Go away. I'm busy."

"With what?" Lacy demanded, clinging to his arm. "You're just sitting here! She's not even paying attention to you!"

"Please leave me alone; I need to study," Keeley said flatly, retrieving her book.

"She can study with him, but not me?"

A headache was brewing. Even without knowing Lacy had been responsible for her death, the girl had a knack for pushing Keeley's buttons. Lacy was already targeting her, so Keeley decided to speak her mind. She didn't care if she was offensive.

"He was being quiet; you're not," she stated.

Aaron freed his arm, gathering his belongings and moving to the chair on Keeley's other side to emphasize his point. "You heard her. Leave."

Lacy began to cry, hoping to gain his sympathy. "Aaron, I just wanted to spend time with you. I miss you."

Unfortunately for her, he didn't appreciate weepy women. The chocolate incident was an anomaly. His usual icy demeanor intensified threefold at the sight of her tears.

"I don't like to repeat myself."

"I'll tell your father you're being mean to me!" she wailed.

The temperature in the student lounge plummeted. People three tables away visibly shivered. Lacy instantly realized her mistake, but it was too late. Even Keeley, accustomed to his mood swings over a decade, feared witnessing a murder.

"If you say a single word to that man about me, I will not hesitate to destroy you."

His words, his posture—hands flat on the table—and especially his tone were terrifying. Lacy visibly shrank.

Keeley would have enjoyed the spectacle if she weren't worried about becoming collateral damage.

Lacy attempted a shaky smile. "Ha…I was just kidding. I'd never do that. We should get together later. Bye!"

She fled, her dignity in tatters. Everyone in the lounge had witnessed his threat.

Over the past few weeks, the student lounge regulars had grown accustomed to Aaron's presence, becoming less nervous and resuming their lunches once they realized he only paid attention to Keeley. This single outburst, however, revived the initial atmosphere of apprehension. Aaron either didn't notice or didn't care. Once Lacy left, he settled back as if nothing unusual had happened.

Keeley scrutinized him. He treated the woman he would eventually leave her for so callously. She concluded he was incapable of consistent kindness towards anyone, not just her.

The thought was strangely comforting. For a long time, she'd blamed herself, believing her flaws caused his behavior.

It was all water under the bridge. In six weeks, it wouldn't matter how he treated anyone. He could do as he pleased once she was gone.

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