A/N: I know you guys are used to a breakneck pace from me, but my life isn't conducive to that anymore. I've had major family upheavals, and moved from coast to coast to coast in the past year. Anyway, I'll update when I can, so please be patient, okay? I'm also trying to stretch a little, get back to my Pete & Daisy pace of writing, where the characters are a little more developed, the plot a little denser. Lately I've been writing novella style stuff, and I really want to write a long, convoluted story. So, bear with me, yeah?

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Why was dining hall food so yuck?

Haley grimaced as she took another bite of her lasagne. Around her, the NYU cafeteria buzzed with conversation as the students caught up with each other's lives, made plans for the weekend, and generally made a loud, happy noise.

"Oh, come on, the food's not that bad." Molly smiled at Haley, correctly reading her mind and facial expression.

"Please, it tastes like pressed toad," Haley responded, listlessly poking her fork in her food, as if trying to stab it to death.

"And how do you know what pressed toad tastes like, anyway?" Molly countered, flicking her hair out of her eyes.

"Call it a wild guess." Haley smiled at her friend. "Still, I suppose it does have nutrition and calories, so I'd better eat it." She resolutely took another bite of the loathsome lasagne.

Molly leaned forward and forked a bite of Haley's lasagne to her mouth.

"Gah," she said, her mouth full of food. "You're right, tastes like hot garbage."

"How's yours?" Haley asked, gesturing toward Molly's hamburger.

"Not much better," Molly admitted. "Like you said, though, it's sustenance." She picked up her burger and took a bite.

"So, any glimmers for summer housing?" Molly asked, changing the subject.

Haley shook her head, blonde hair swishing. "In a little over two months, I'll officially be homeless," she told her friend. "Even with my scholarship and jobs, there's just no way to live in New York City."

"Maybe you could look in Brooklyn or Queens?" Molly suggested.

"Brooklyn and Queens are part of New York City, Chief," Haley informed Molly with a laugh.

"Staten Island?"

"Ditto." Haley shook her head again, continuing to laugh. "Plus, I think I'd die if I had to live on Staten Island, ugh."

"Really?" Molly looked surprised.

"That's why it's known as 'the five boroughs,' dingbat," Haley told her. "Manhattan, the Bronx, Queens, Brooklyn and Staten Island all combine to make up New York City. You, my friend, are guilty of what most Manhattanites do, which is conflating Manhattan only with New York City."

"Well, it might as well be," Molly countered, picking up her milk and taking a drink. "I mean, no one wants to live anywhere else, do they?" To Molly, Manhattan was the center of the universe and always would be.

"Tell that to the people entering the housing lotteries to get into those new buildings in DUMBO," Haley said, shaking her head yet again.

"DUMBO?"

"Yeah, you know, the District Under the Manhattan Bridge Overpass?" How did convos with Molly go off the rails so quickly? The last thing Haley wanted was to get into a philosophical discussion with Molly Whittaker on New York City geography.

"Anyway," Molly said, "sorry you don't have any place to stay this summer."

"Me too," Haley said glumly. She twirled her straw in her soda to see if there was any left.

Abruptly, she rose from her seat, picking up her tray.

"Come on, Moll, let's blow this taco stand and get some real food," she suggested to her friend.

"But that costs money?" Molly said,

"My chronic lack of funds notwithstanding, it's a beautiful day, the first really nice day in months," Haley declared. "We can go to that pizza place, split a slice?"

"Ooh, sounds good," Molly enthused, rising from her place. "Let's go, we'll just have time before class if we hurry."
They exited the dining hall onto University Place, enjoying the feel of the sun on their faces.

They walked toward the pizzeria, laughing with each other, drawing appreciative glances from those around them.

"You know, sometimes I can't believe this is my life," Haley confided. "I mean, I'm in fucking New York City, all the way from Carter's Hollow, Kentucky."

"I still think it's cool to live in a place named after your family," Molly inserted.

"Believe me, you wouldn't think that if your name was Carter and you lived there," Haley said, shaking her head. "We're all related to each other somehow, you can't do anything without everyone knowing, like, immediately, and if you're not married by fifteen you have to look like you got hit by a truck—"

"Which you definitely don't," Molly interrupted. "So how did you escape?"

"It's all I ever wanted," Haley responded grimly. "I never dreamed of going to church five times a week and popping out three children before my twentieth birthday. I knew that an education was my only way out, so I studied. Really hard. My cousins thought I was crazy, I could've had my pick of the boys in town and never cracked a book."

Molly, who had heard all of this before, put a hand between her friend's shoulder blades in a show of support.

"I know, I know, but you're here now, you got out, didn't you?"

Haley nodded fervently. "I did, I did, thank god."

They stopped talking as they entered the pizzeria. They ordered, paid, and moved to one of the chairless tables to eat their slice.

Almost immediately, one of the young men at a neighboring table smiled at them, lifting his pizza in a little salute. His two friends watched the exchange avidly.

The girls ignored him, but apparently that wasn't enough of a message, because as they were leaving, he detoured to the girls' table, stopping to stand between them.

"I was wondering if I could have your number," he began without preamble, addressing his words to Haley. "I know a great pizza place if pizza's what you like." His eyes dropped to her cleavage before bouncing up to her eyes once more. He leaned in, putting an elbow on the table, expensive watch flashing.

"No thanks, I'm talking to my friend right now," Haley said, keeping her voice even, eyes flicking to him briefly.

"Come on, don't be like that," he coaxed, brushing Haley's arm with his finger.

Haley jerked her arm away. "Please don't touch me," she said. "I'm not interested, I can't be any clearer than that."

The young man pulled back, his expression changing from one of friendliness to hostility. "Bitch," he enunciated. "Well, fuck you, you cunt. You're not even that pretty, I just felt sorry for you."

Haley sighed and continued to face Molly, who was blushing from stress and embarrassment.

"Whatever, man, I don't need this shit," he muttered. He turned and walked outside to where his friends were waiting for him. For his grand, parting gesture, he gave the girls the finger, though neither was looking at him.

Whatever.

Haley shook her head. What a loser.

"Come on, finish up, we'll have to hustle to get to class," Haley urged.

Molly had a tendency to linger, especially over food.

"Okay, okay, I'm coming." Molly swallowed and grabbed the paper plate for the trash.

The day had warmed up even more while they ate, feeling almost balmy after the long, northeastern winter. The girls walked past bodegas, flower sellers, head shops, and the myriad other businesses that made up that part of New York City on their way to class.

They entered a building which announced its status as a University building by the presence of a purple flag with the letters "NYU" emblazoned on it hanging over the door. NYU didn't have one campus, per se; rather, it owned buildings all over the lower part of Manhattan, with purple flags dotting the streets of Greenwich Village. Haley loved this about her school. The campus was New York City itself.

She shifted her backpack to her other shoulder as they ran up the stairs. It was extra heavy today, as it contained her catering uniform, which consisted of a white blouse and black slacks, along with black ballet flats.

They slid into their seats with minutes to spare, taking out lap tops and notebooks, preparing for class.

Molly smiled at the boy who sat on her other side.

Haley knew Molly thought he was "totally hot," and had a really great head of hair.

Haley herself didn't date much, and didn't spend much time noticing who around her was hot or had good hair.

There just wasn't time, for one thing.

School was her focus, her priority, and keeping her grades up so she could keep her fantastic scholarship was paramount. She knew she wasn't a naturally gifted student, and she was careful to put in the time and effort to keep her on the upper end of her class list.

Then there was the fact that there weren't really any boys around her who interested her. They were either the super earnest, save the world bleeding hearts, or like the self involved jerk from the pizza place, only interested in her looks or body.

Nope, not for her.

The professor walked in and the class got quiet, attention focusing on the woman at the front of the room.

Haley turned on her computer.