Lydia folded her hands together, and cracked her knuckles together, hearing the hard snap of bones rubbing together. Nervousness found its way into Lydia’s system just because of the word “date”. Bryce might feel nervous because of the prospect of a new school, but Lydia felt nervous for an even simpler reason, the idea of a date. No longer did her hands stay still when she raised them from the desk, instead they trembled, moving towards the flask of alcohol in front of her. It’ll all disappear, her thought process was. And with a tip of the glass, and the sensation of alcohol slipping down her thought, her thoughts were at ease. Finally, a smile rose to her face, and she placed the flask back on her desk and ran over to Bryce’s dorm, knocking once on the wood door.