My brand-new Mercedes Benz pulls to a calm stop in front of the Easton gates, and all the air I've been sucking to calm my bubbling nerves escapes me in a hurried screech. Easton is as beautiful and glorious as ever. Calm down, Monet. I tell myself instinctively. It's not like I'm some freshman. I'm a sophomore. Sophomore. There's some serious tangibility in the word, like I can feel my future almost in my grasp. And it is almost, almost there. The gates ease open, slightly squeaking on their rusting hinges. I cruise through the gates eagerly, my Gucci sunglasses concealing my uber-eager expression. A few mingling freshmen gape at me, and I smirk knowingly. I'd been them last year, and it feels good to be ahead of the 9th graders now. I take in another deep, soothing breath, and pull up to the curb, allowing my promised chauffeur (who'd met me at Easton) to deliver my few bags to my old dorm at Bradwell. It had been a trying summer, and, as I hate to admit, I hadn't been shopping as much as I'd hoped to in Barcelona.

Reginald opens the door for me attentively, and quickly bounds to the trunk, where he retrieves my four meager Louis Vuitton suitcases. We stride towards Bradwell casually, and I pull my phone out of my DKNY purse, awaiting a text from my best friend, Lissa Arnold. My iPhone gleams with 'You have one new message.' I smile knowingly, and press the 'OK' button.

R U here yet? Get ur butt 2 bradwell NOW!

calm down Barbie heading to bradwell now. I reply, and shove my phone back into my purse. The familiar sound of pump against pavement lulls me back to reality, and I turn my head slightly, admiring the blooming gardens surrounding the campus. The slight early autumn breeze ruffles through my trimmed black curls, and I feel myself smile once again. I'm a smiling machine today, it seems. I have a lot to be happy about. As my thoughts begin to drift, a tan, muscled arm pulls me around in a dizzy tumble, and I practically fall into Thompson's awaiting arms. I let my head linger on his chest for a second longer than need be, and breathe in his spicy cologne. I pull my head up, and smile into his gleaming emerald eyes.

"Ciao, amore," He says adoringly.

"Hello to you, too." I laugh, and peck him on the cheek. My lips graze his stubbled cheeks, and I rub my thumb across them, frowning playfully. "Looks like someone forgot to shave."

"Sorry, diletto." Thompson murmurs, and loops his fingers through mine. And they fit, perfectly. Perfect is the word to describe us. We're practically meant for each other. Yeah, I know, fairy-tale ending much? But I am, totally and completely. And Thompson Renaldi is my Prince Charming in a world of ugly, ugly ogres.

"Miss?" Reginald's humble, deluded voice asks me. I glance at him, and nod expectantly.

"Yes, Reginald?"

"Shall I deposit these at your dorm and leave you with Mr. Renaldi?"

"Yes." I agree, and blush as Thompson pulls me slightly closer to him.

"Have a good school year, Ms. Gonzalez-Larenzo." Reginald murmurs, smiling at me wanly.

"Thanks, Reggie." I murmur, and let Thompson lead me in the direction opposite Bradwell. Lissa would have to wait. Thompson and I had some catching up to do.