Freedom

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Courtney's POV

I woke up to someone shouting at the top of their lungs, "Courtney! We've got to go! Our first class starts in 20 minutes!"

That was my roommate Sam. She keeps me going when I get off track most of the time. Last night I had stayed up until 4am studying for a huge exam today. It counted for 40 percent of our grade and I had to ace it or I'd probably die, or worse, drop out.

I rushed out of bed and over to my closet to grab some clothes. It was mid-November so it was chilly outside which resulted in me wearing sweats. I didn't even bother with makeup when I went to the bathroom and threw my hair into a sloppy bun.

"Come on Court! Um forgetting something?" Sam asked me while looking at my feet.

"Oh right," I muttered and slipped on an old pair of tennis shoes. I picked up my bag from beside the door to our apartment and ran out. Sam and I live about a ten minute walking distance from our first class on Thursdays, but that didn't stop us from jogging all the way there.

We finally reached our History of Rock and Roll class (A/N: that's a real class that my sister took at utk) and sat down with about 5 minutes to spare. I took my regular seat in the front of class and took out my journal and pen for notes. We usually just watched videos of old concerts which didn't disappoint me. I liked rock just enough to sign up for this class after all.

I couldn't shake the feeling that there was a pair of eyes burning into the back of my neck, but when I turned around no one was looking. There was a group of boys who were laughing obnoxiously though. I swear I thought I saw the black haired one with the eyebrow piercing wink at me...

"Hello class, prepare yourselves for another one of my Aerosmith DVDs!" our professor, Mr. Grant, said enthusiastically as he burst into the room. "Boy do we have a great class in store for you today. Please recall the time I told you..."

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*after all classes*

I walked back to my apartment from my last class of the day with an ache in my chest. It was just like when I used to be depressed in high school. I was diagnosed with severe depression in my freshman year because of the older students teasing me. They made fun of how I'd never go out and I'd just stay in and study but I didn't see the problem. I was getting good grades and preparing for college and they were developing addictions and having sex with people they didn't care about.

I lost my virginity to my best friend at the time, Luke. I trusted him and he trusted me so we wanted to go ahead and get it over with so we wouldn't be mocked later. We ended up not talking as much throughout the rest of high school and became completely disconnected in college. He could be going to the same place as me and I'd have no idea. That, though, was 6 years ago when I lost my v card and I haven't fucked anyone since. I just haven't met anyone meaningful enough yet.

Back to the pain in my chest, I hadn't any clue why I was feeling this way. I decided to stop at the coffee shop a block from my place to clear my head. I sat down at a small table by myself in the corner and unlocked my phone. I texted Sam and told her where I was and that I'd be getting home later than usual. I closed out of the texting app and went on to Instagram to scroll aimlessly when I got the notification that I had a follow request. It was actually rare that I ever got one considering I'm practically a nobody. I clicked the account to make sure it wasn't some fake catfish. I saw the profile picture and gasped.

It was the dark haired boy from History of Rock, which I now know, is named Michael Clifford. His friend group is on a whole other level from mine. Yes I didn't know his name but that was just because I've never gotten up the courage to ask anyone for it. He seemed like an okay guy so I accepted his follow request and requested to follow him back.

A couple minutes later I was alerted that I had a direct message from, who would've thought, Michael. I pondered what it could possibly be for a moment before finally giving up and opening it. It was a picture of a cat with its face poked through a slice of pizza with the caption,

"Hey, ignore the pic pls... Would you like to come to a party this weekend?"

A/N: HI THERE I HOPE YOU LIKED IT!! Sorry to throw in Michael so quick but I just thought why the hell not! Anyways idk where this story is headed but who cares! I'm having fuuuuunnn!

Callie xx
P.s. The pic attached is what Michael sent Courtney:-)