College Girl Problems Secret Santa

My peaceful sleep that Friday morning was shattered by my roommate. Most people in college wouldn't be surprised by this, but if you had known my roommate, well let's just say it was a rude awakening.
"FUCK!"
My brain flicked into defense mode, and my arms and legs flailed through the air, as I toppled down to the wooden floor.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" my roommate screamed.
"What the hell happened!? Have we been robbed!?" I yelled, tearing the blankets off me so I could look around the room.
The room seemed to be in order; the two desks stood next to each other, my various anime paraphernalia all accounted for, and the door seemed intact. There wasn't a naked guy laying around anywhere, let alone any alcohol. The only thing out of order was my roommate, who sat straight up like a board in her bed.
"Damn it, why? Why didn't I do it?"
I got up off the floor now, and sat on the bed next to her.
"Masaki, you do realize it's four in the fucking morning, right?" I asked.
She looked at me, "Theresa! I'm fucked!"
"Not what I asked," I said, "What are you screaming about this early in the morning?" I asked, genuinely worried.
If you had roomed with Masaki as long as I had, you would know that she was the quietest, and least likely to wake-you-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night roommates ever. She never wanted to impose on anyone. In fact, she once waited over twelve hours to warn me about a raccoon that had found its way into our room, purely because, as she said after the incident, she didn't want to wake me.
"You remember that paper Mr. Wilson gave us in English, right? The one that's due today?" she asked, her voice shaking.
Yeah, I thought to myself, The one that's worth forty percent of our final grade?
"Well," Masaki continued, "I didn't do it!"
"What!?" I exclaimed, "What do you mean you didn't do it!?"
"Exactly what I said!" Masaki snapped, "I didn't get around to it! That's why I'm freaking out!"
This was an issue. The essay was supposed to be at least twenty pages about a piece of classic literature. I had done mine on Good Omens by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman, which wasn't on the list of classics Mr. Wilson gave us, but I thought it fit the topic.
"Okay, calm down. Which book was your paper supposed to be on?" I asked.
"The Great Gatsby," she responded, already digging her laptop out of her barfed-on-by-a-rainbow shoulder bag.
"Okay," I said, grabbing some clean clothes and a hair brush, "I'm assuming you haven't done any of the research required yet?"
Masaki shook her head, "Nope. We'll need a place with free wifi."
"Caribou Coffee, down by the library," I said, "Hurry, get into some decent clothes and let's go."
Masaki's eyes widened, "But, but, I'm hardly presentable without a shower."
"Masaki," I stated, "Paper. Due in four hours."
With that, she jumped up and began to gather clothes for her early morning start. As she changed I couldn't help but notice how slender she was. It was inconceivable that anyone, let alone a teenage girl, would be able to eat the way she did.
Makes me wonder why she doesn't have a significant other yet, I thought.
Masaki ran, no, sprinted into the bathroom, and I was left to wonder about her love life. Masaki emerged not seconds later, however, before I could even get a thought in.
"Do I look okay!?" she practically yelled.
Her shoulder length, raven hair curled at random points, and she had dark circles under her eyes.
Bed head, and sleep deprived. Normal, I decided.
"You're fine. Now let's go."
Masaki dashed to the door, nearly crashing into it, and then beat me to the car. I, being the one with the keys, and the license, only moved at a pace below hers. Quick like rabbits- ugh, that's a terrible phrase. More like squirrels? Yes. Squirrels are much quicker than rabbits I think- we hopped into my not-actually-aging-but-acting-like-it Thunderbird.
We drove down the nearly deserted streets, Masaki furiously typing out her introduction, which had already reached a page and a half.
That was the good thing, I thought, Masaki is a pretty long-winded person when she writes. Twenty pages will be a snap.
"Ah," Masaki said suddenly, "I'm running low on battery."
"Well, you've got your charger, right?" I asked, yanking the wheel over to avoid a pothole.
"Well, um, no."
"Fuck," I said, "We have to go back don't we?" I finished, pulling into the student parking garage.
Masaki nodded.
"Wait!" I yelled. Masaki leapt in her seat, as I began rummaging through the glove compartment, hoping desperately that my little brother's charger would be in the same place as where he let it last Christmas.
"Bingo!" I yanked the cord out of the compartment, and tossed it onto Masaki's lap.
"Yosh!" Masaki smiled, letting a little bit of her Japanese heritage leak out.
"Now, I just need to find a parking space," my eyes thinned, searching for a vacant slot.
Lot of people here for it being four thirty in the fucking morning, I growled to myself.
Then, a crappy purple scion nearly cleaved my front end off. Boy, did I let that fucker have it with my horn. Must've woken the whole school. We took the jerk's space, and I kicked the Thunderbird into park. Literally kick. This thing was damn old after all.
I heard a yelp as Masaki misjudged the height of my car, and the accompanying sigh of relief that she didn't fall over. I took Masaki's arm in mine, as if we were some kind of couple, purely because she had knocked several people over while texting. Imagine the kind of damage she could have done with a full-blown 17-inch dell.
Caribou coffee was crowded, which I guess was to be expected on a college campus this early in the morning.
"Find a table, I'll get us some coffee. Mocha with cream?" I said.
"Yes. Oh, and a slice of marble bread if they have any," she responded, and went off to find a comfy chair where she could type.
It was then that my brain drifted to the topic of café chains.
Starbucks, I thought to myself, is a perfect example of bad coffee nowadays. There's no more cinnamon rolls, rarely are there any good treats on that note. And their coffee! Blech. I mean, seriously, how could it be good for business to serve coffee with every characteristic of tea?
"One Mint Condition Mocha please."
My head swiveled on my shoulders like an owl's, eyes landing on the current patron ordering. The student had shorter black hair, a red and black button-up shirt, and a rather large amount of stubble. Basically, to sugarcoat it as little as possible, he was damn sexy. However, this was only an observation that I had made a year before in this very coffee shop.
"Brian," I said, although it was more of a statement.
He turned at the mention of his name, and smiled, "Theresa! Hisashiburi!"
For those of you not in Japanese 201 this year, he said that he hasn't seen me in a while.
"What are you doing here?" I asked.
He shrugged, "Woke up. Wanted a mocha. Had a car."
"Right, right."
"Well," he said after a few moments, "Why are you here?"
"Oh, just helping Masaki finish up a paper for English."
Brain frowned, "The classic literature one?"
"Yep," I responded, turning to face the cashier, who was indifferent to the conversation at hand, "One Mint condition mocha, and one regular mocha, two marble breads."
The cashier grunted and took my money, turning to grunt at the other goblins behind the counter. I swiveled on my heel, and made my way towards the group of people standing, and waiting for their orders.
"So, which book did you do your essay on?" brain asked, coming up behind me.
After gathering myself because of the fright he had put me through, I responded, "Good Omens."
"That wasn't on the list of books we could do."
"And?" I said.
Brian just laughed, "You always have to make it hard on yourself, don't you Theresa?"
I ignored him. Or tried to at least. That was the problem with Brian; he was able to keep your attention and talk for hours without being that annoying.
"Can I sit with you guys?" he suddenly asked.
His request took time for my brain to register.
Sit with us? Why?
"Well," I said, "Masaki has to work on her essay, and-"
"I-I can help! Which book is her essay on?" Brian said, eagerly.
"Um, the Great Gatsby, but I don't-"
"Ah! That's the book I did my report on. I can help you with it!"
He did do the essay, and he would definitely help; he's a nice guy… No, no I'd rather not have to deal with him this early in the morning.
"Brian, I don't think we need any help."
Then, he leaned in close to me suddenly, "Please can I sit with you? I want to ask Masaki something, but I haven't had the chance to."
What is that supposed to mean? I wondered.
"Well, you can ask her during class later, right? Besides, her essay takes priority right now."
"I-I know. I won't ask her the question until she's done, and in the meantime I can help her with the essay. Is that okay?"
"Brian, we just need to get this essay done, and we don't need any help. Sorry."
Brian's shoulders sunk a little, and his smile disappeared, "Oh. Okay."
Fuck, now I feel like a bitch. I thought as he began to turn away.
"You can sit with us," I said suddenly, "But, no helping unless we need it."
Brian chuckled, "Weird. Alright, fair enough."
"One Mint Condition Mocha, one mocha with cream, and two marble breads," The cashier said grumpily.
I grabbed our order, and bolted off to find Masaki. She had gotten a table near the window, and was now typing furiously away. I set the mochas down quickly and slouched into a chair.
"What happened?" Masaki asked, having stopped her furious essay writing momentarily.
"Nothing really, I mean-"
"What happened?" she asked again.
I sighed, "Brian's here."
Masaki's eyes grew wide, "Brian's here? Where did you see him?"
"At the counter, he was behind me in line. We got to talking, and he offered to help you with your essay."
"Well, that was sweet of him, but you told him that I didn't need any help, right?"
"I-I did, but then I invited him to have coffee with us."
Masaki's eyes widened, "Theresa!"
"He looked so put out! He was gonna sit in the back! And since when do you hate him?"
"I-I don't. I just… well…"
"Oh my god. You have a crush on him."
"No!" Masaki's face flushed red.
"Ah ha! You do! Then, this is perfect!" I laughed, my mood lifting.
Masaki seemed terribly confused, "What do you mean this is perfect? This is terrible!"
"No, Masaki, Brian can help you with your essay. That's good. And, you can ask him out afterwards!"
"You're crazy!" she snapped, "Th-there's no way he'd say yes."
That's what you think, I thought to myself, remembering how desperate he seemed earlier.
"Masaki, calm down. How many pages do you have?"
"Five, but what are you-"
"Here you guys are," Brian said, pulling up a third chair to the table.
Masaki became deathly silent, and furiously started typing away on her laptop.
"Okay," I said, "So, we have five pages already. Can you look them over for us really quickly?" I asked Brian.
"Sure," Brian said, taking the laptop from Masaki, and skimming the piece.
After a while, he spoke up, "It's really good actually, but at this rate you aren't going to have enough material for twenty pages."
"Oh," Masaki said, "I figured it'd be too many pages."
"No, no. You've got it here. Just write it out as long as possible for now, 'kay?"
Masaki looked at me, and after I gave a quick, sharp nod, replied, "Okay."
Three hours went into the paper from that point. Everything from correcting grammar to writing more obscure connections from the book to real life to coffee chugging. Masaki eventually loosened up and began suggesting ideas to use. Twenty minutes before class, the paper was done. Twenty one pages long, and checked over multiple times by multiple eyes.
"We did it!" I yelped, high-fiving Masaki and Brian.
Masaki smiled, and Brian leaned back in his chair out of Masaki's sight to adjust his hair and shirt collar.
And that's my cue, I thought.
"Well," I said, standing up, "I'm going to the bathroom. Be right back."
The white tiles on the floor stared up at me, reflecting the question that rebounded throughout my soul.
'Are you okay with your best friend dating your ex?'
Yes was the obvious answer. I liked Masaki, and certainly I had no connections to Brian. I had thought at least. The feeling wasn't jealousy, it was fear.
What if I misread Brian's signals? I thought.
I quickly rinsed my hands, and opened the bathroom door slightly, so as to just see a fraction of the room. Brian and Masaki stood next to each other, the two of them nervous as hell. I snuck out o the bathroom, and quietly sat down at a table close by so I could hear what they were saying, but still hidden by a book case.
"Um, I wanted to ask you something, Masaki," Brian said, rubbing the back of his neck.
Masaki remained silent, and swallowed.
"Do you- Um, would you- Will you go out with me?"
"Yes," Masaki answered, breathless, "Yes!" she exclaimed, hugging him.
College, I thought, What the hell man. What the hell.