It's a chilly evening in December, not too cold but not too warm either to activate the air-conditioning units. The strip of dorms and student hotels are quiet, save for an indie album being blasted on the top floor of a three-storey building.

Caitlin's had a shitty night.

All of these statements are observations, facts that Caitlin has gathered, like the scientific thinker she was. The last one was something she detested—even an impersonal approach couldn't bother her from not reacting perversely to the displeasure this evening had brought her.

Damn Iris.

Damn this dress.

Damn this night.

It all started on 6:57 PM of her otherwise peaceful evening.

6:57 PM

"Cait, you in?"

A voice from the other side of her thin yellow door snaps Caitlin out of her computations, and she flings her pencil in frustration, as she's allowed. Nothing adds up, and she's pretty sure that this equation could balance itself if it wanted to.

Power of the mind, and all that.

Successfully distracted, she walks to the door and opens it, not bothering to answer or use the peephole as she already knows who's on the other side. With a quick twist of the doorknob, Iris' face appears in view, and she lets herself be dragged by her friend of approximately forty months. Or three years, longer in college years.

Iris West was Caitlin's group mate in a Bio class during their freshman years, and despite having different majors, her, in the field of bioengineering, and Iris an aspiring writer, they've been friends. Caitlin's quiet, shy reserve is the perfect contrast to Iris' effusive bubbliness, a fact that she noticed since Iris had picked up new guys and even girls to befriend, with Caitlin having only a few, hand-picked friends.

Iris is one of Caitlin's girlfriends, and, if she were honest, one of her only ones. She's not at all surprised that they became friends—after all, Caitlin knew from the start that Iris was the kind of girl who made friends fast. She's more surprised at the fact that their friendship actually made it this far—up until senior year.

"I had the longest day today—my shift was too long, and the lectures this afternoon bored me to hell. Even Creative Writing couldn't even pull me out of the funk, and Eddie's got this stupid house party he wants me to attend."

Caitlin hears Iris' chatter, but refuses to comment on it. She's content hearing her friend rant or rave about her day, and sits back in her lofty chair, looking at the equation as if it were a mystery. Which it kind of was.

"What's up with you?" Iris asks her, and Caitlin's head snaps back.

"Huh?"

"You've got this weird frown on your face. Ate something bad?" Iris asks her, and Caitlin's unsure whether to laugh or shake her head at her friend.

"No. It's this equation…." Caitlin starts, and Iris puts up a hand to stop her. "You know I can't help you with your smarty-smart stuff, Cait. I'm only so good for literary references and a few papers in between."

"Don't say that," Caitlin replies, as if automatically, and Iris looks at her. "You know you're talented and beautiful. Don't belittle yourself. Please."

"Okay. Now you're just a regular self-loving motivator. What's up with you, really?"

Caitlin knows the answer to Iris' question, and she refuses to admit it. Yes, it may have been the pile of stress on her mind that doesn't seem to go away, or the reports she's yet to finish, but she knows that she can easily dismiss all of those.

It's the fact that one year has already passed, and no one knows.

It's especially hard on her, on this day and this night, but Iris doesn't need to know the burden that's been keeping her awake for so long.

So instead she shakes her head and smiles at Iris. Knowing she won't take no for an answer, Caitlin smiles and indulges her a little bit. "It's school. Guess I've just been swamped for a while and more than stressed. I'm due to break," she reasons, and Iris tut-tuts. "You should take a break. A well-deserved, more-than-due, much-needed break." Caitlin shakes her head again and tells Iris she can't. "I've got more papers due than I have time to actually go out and drink some coffee at Jitters." Iris squints her eyes. "That's true, but then again you can whip out a 1.00-grade worthy paper in fifteen minutes, printing time and walking time included. All I'm saying is, take a break," she stresses, "walk out of this cramped space—"

"Hey!"

"—and breathe some fresh air. Flirt some or buy real food at the organic market we used to go to every Sunday. I need to see you out of here. It's stifling in here," Iris waves at invisible fog, and Caitlin rolls her eyes. "Get out." It's more of a command than real, unsolicited advice, and Caitlin's forced to make the decision of indulging her when her eyes gleam. "Or better yet, come with me. Right now."

"Where?"

"The Delta Lambda party down the block. Eddie's got me as a plus one and he can sneak you in."

"Um, no."

"Caitlin." Iris' voice is firm, the determination in her eyes shining, and Caitlin rolls her eyes.

"Iris."

"We have to go. In fact," she says, pulling Caitlin's cherry wood closet open, her clothes in disarray, "we're going right now. And I'm finding you a dress to wear."

"No."

"Yes."

"Iris, no. Go party with your boyfriend. It's not my style."

Iris doesn't even flinch, and Caitlin's words bounce off of her as she pulls at several folded items, looking for something.

"Ah-ha!" Iris waves a familiar red romper with golden lightning streaks patterned all over the fabric. "I love this on you. It makes your skin glow. Try it on." Iris throws it at her friend, clad in grey sweatpants and a hoodie two sizes too large for her.

"No, Iris, I'm not going." Caitlin decides to stand her ground. She won't let herself be bullied by her friend, who may mean well.

"We're going. You, me and Eddie."

"Iris, no."

"Caitlin, yes. Do this for me."

"I have tons to do."

"It's a Friday night."

"I have classes tomorrow."

"It doesn't start until two-thirty, and you know the professor's going to be tardy anyway."

Caitlin's clutching at straws, running out of reasons to bail out of Iris' invitation.

"I've got the stomach flu."

Iris gives her a once-over and rolls her chocolate brown eyes. "All you've got is a pair of eyebags worth an insomniac year and legs that need shaving." Caitlin looks at the appendage in discussion and frowns, afraid to agree and succumb to her friend.

"I'm not going. I'm not going, I'm not going."

"Yes, we are. Go get dressed," Iris says, and rummages around Caitlin's mini closet to find the makeup that she uses.

"Just go, Iris."

"Caitlin, I'm not going without you. Hurry up. I'm running out of time," she explains, trying to find another dress for her to borrow.

Caitlin sighs and flops down on her double-sized bed, the mattress rising up and down with the sudden weight. "Iris, please don't make me do this."

"Caitlin," Iris kneels near her friend, looking her in the eyes, "please don't make me not do the thing that I asked you to do."

"I have a headache," Caitlin reasons, and this time, it's real. Iris' constant convincing has made her experience a headache, and it's no longer pleasant, with the throbbing in her head resonating.

"We can fix that with some aspirin. Come on," Iris pleads and orders at the same time, and Caitlin frowns for a good fifteen minutes before Iris kneels near her again. "One month supply of lattes on me if you go."

Another friend would've jumped at the opportunity, but Caitlin isn't one to take advantages or risks. "No, Iris. I'm not going to be compensated with free coffee." No matter how much I need it or how delicious it is.

Iris thinks of a reason to persuade Caitlin to go, and it seemingly falls into her lap. Twisting her lips into a smirk, she looks Caitlin in the eyes. "Well, it's as if I don't want to go to the party anymore." She whips out her phone and Caitlin squints her eyes in confusion. "Let me call my dad and tell him to come by and pick us up to spend the weekend at his place."

"No!" Caitlin's answer comes alarmingly, as Iris expected, and she smiles. Typical of Caitlin to be terrified at the thought of Joe West scolding the two girls for not having enough fun. "Yes, I'll go with you. Don't tell your dad. We don't want him to worry," Caitlin adds. Joe was a fun dad, and a greater dad for Iris, but he can be a mean streak when his girl and his girl's friends are involved.

"Finally."

Two hours later, Caitlin and Iris arrive in Iris' maroon Corvette, haphazardly parked at the front of a building three blocks away from the Delta Lambda fraternity house. Caitlin squirms in the leather passenger seat, her once modest romper now showing too much skin due to the growth spurts she's been experiencing five years too late.

"Don't think I can do this," Caitlin mutters and Iris ignores her protests, checking out her impeccable eyebrows and lipstick in the mirror overhead. "Let's go," she says, a maroon purse flung on her wrist and her keys in her right hand. Caitlin sits, unmoving in the passenger seat, and Iris walks over her car in three-inch pumps to coax her friend out of the car. "We're in phase two of two, Cait. Just, five solid minutes inside, I promise you'll be fine."

No reassurances can ever make Caitlin fine, but she decides to throw caution to the wind the moment Iris bends over, wobbling in her pumps, just to coax her out of her forever-staying funk. Just fifteen minutes, thirty the maximum, and she'll ask the keys for the Corvette. No drinks, no random stranger flirting.

"Okay, I can do this," Caitlin says out loud, psyching herself up, and she walks out of the car. They walk arm in arm up to the fraternity house, and suddenly Caitlin can't breathe. Iris doesn't notice, however, and goes straight to the arms of her incumbent boyfriend, Eddie Thawne.

Caitlin's chest tightens and her body sways, and she hasn't crossed the threshold yet. She takes a step back with her left foot and it gets caught in a lifted plank, and suddenly the sensation of losing balance takes over.

Ready to fall, Caitlin yields to gravity until a strong grip descends upon her elbow and she finds herself steady once again. "Easy there," a voice whispers in her ear, and Caitlin straightens her spine, eyes still wide and breathing still fast. Caitlin whips her head around to thank her hero—but Iris grabs her wrist and pulls her inside. "Don't tell me you've just been standing there this whole time," and Iris leads her to the heart of the party.

Caitlin shields herself from the bumping and the grinding that's happening and goes straight to the kitchen, deeming it a safe place, albeit the excessive groping that's happening right before her very eyes. Avoiding the sight, she spots a fresh stack of beer pong glasses and pulls herself a cup, goes to the two-door refrigerator and pours herself a fresh glass of ice-cold water. Drinking from the cup, Caitlin's silent, breathing in and out, trying to mask the fact that she's inside a fraternity house.

"Hey." A husky voice says behind her, and Caitlin only has to crane her neck before she sees the owner of the voice.

"Hey, Eddie."

Eddie Thawne, Delta Lambda brother, baseball player and Iris West's boyfriend of fourteen months walks up to her and gives her a smile. Caitlin mirrors his smile, and it's because it's so easy to like Eddie. She was, of course, hesitant to make friends with such an American boy carbon copy, but Eddie made it a point to not cast her out or make her feel like a third wheel during his and Iris' days of courtship and even after that, but Caitlin still ends up feeling like one. Besides, Eddie's an all-around nice guy, loyal to his family and respectful to everyone he meets. He isn't perfect, but then Iris wasn't looking for someone who was.

"Great to see you here, Cait," Eddie says with unmistakable sincerity, and Caitlin smiles again.

"Yeah, I didn't have much of a choice," Caitlin says honestly, and Eddie laughs, then winces.

"Sorry 'bout that. Iris can be quite forceful."

"Yep. But it's okay, really."

"Plus, I know that this really isn't your crowd." They both stare at the party evolving upfront, and Caitlin suppresses a shiver at the thought of mingling and losing herself at the bodies writhing and dancing at the same time. "But I'm really glad you're here. On a Friday night," he adds, and Caitlin laughs. "Hope you're not thinking about your term papers," he says humorously, and Caitlin glares at him, all in good fun.

"I was supposed to be having fun, not growing an ulcer and worrying."

"Again, sorry 'bout that. I'm sure a whiz like you could finish it in a flash."

Caitlin laughs at Eddie's similar comment. "You two really are in love; Iris said the same thing to me not two hours ago."

Eddie's eyes turn humorous to loving in five seconds flat, within the mention of Iris' name. "Yeah. I do love her." Caitlin looks at Eddie, wonders how they could've been both so lucky to have met Iris and be part of the people who love her.

Eddie's spell is effectively broken when another frat brother claps him on the shoulder and asks him to assist in a round of beer pong, and he waves a goodbye to Caitlin, still stuck in the marble counter corner of the kitchen.

She notes the time, a quarter to nine o'clock, and Caitlin searches the swarm for Iris, trying to recall the colour of the dress she's wearing. Heading back to the living room, cup in hand, she swivels around to put her cup where it belongs, until disaster strikes.

At the same time her arm reaches out to rest her cup on the marble counter, a tray full of drinks hobble above her and descend upon her form, soaking her in sticky beer.

Caitlin's effectively drenched, from head to toe, and she's pretty sure she's never been this humiliated before.

Her lips forming a huge O, she looks to the source of the huge beer rain that's soaked her to the bone until she sees long limbs dressed in matching midnight blue jeans and a crew sweater.

And looks into the eyes of the most overrated, obnoxious Delta Lambda frat boy the school has ever known.

Barry Allen.