its my party and i'll...

                                    

                                          
"how's that for 'just friends'?"







Things were good. My treatments were going well. Stars Hollow was covered in snow and pixie cuts, and Christmas was right around the corner. 
I love Christmas. I love winter in general. I love snow and snowball fights and hot chocolate and gift giving... all of it. Wintertime in New York is probably one of my favourite things ever. 
But wintertime at Yale means the ever-dreaded midterms, because, 'here at Yale Univeristy, we don't give a crap about your holiday spirit, and intend to drain you of every last ounce of brain and willpower you have until the very last second before break!'
Yale never said that, obviously. But I like to think it's implied. I had a midterm for almost every class, and I was already super behind in all of them. I needed to uphold my scholarship, and didn't want to pull the cancer card for even more extensions from my professors. People had been treating me weirdly enough already. I didn't want to start asking for pity. 
I finally built up the courage to tell Daphne about everything. We were due for a catch up, so I asked her to go to the dining hall with me for lunch. When I walked in with a bald head, even if it was under a beanie to fight the November weather, she thought it was a fashion choice at first, assuming I was suddenly inspired by Natalie Portman in her new movie.
But when I finally mustered up the courage to tell her the real reason for my baldness, without crying, might I add (pat on the back for me if I do say so myself), Daphne was shocked. Like really shocked. She was confused most of all, though. 
People get really huggy with cancer for some reason. Daphne gave me a suffocating hug and then started asking a bunch of questions. 
She asked things like how long it would take my hair to grow back, and how long my treatments would go for. I felt terrible that I couldn't answer a lot of them, simply because I didn't know the answers. 
Once the cancer talk was done, of course, as with any conversation with Daphne, the subject of boys came up. 
As usual, it was mostly just her talking about her beau of the month, who at the moment was this senior art history major, who was so 'deep' and 'thoughtful'. I asked her where he had taken her on dates so far, and she replied saying that he didn't 'believe in' spending money on dates, and thought it was more personal and intimate to sit in his car and make out.
In other words, he was using her, and poor Daph was too blinded by those rose coloured glasses to see it. 
"So... I heard you've been getting pretty close with Logan Huntzberger..." I hadn't even realised that I had zoned out of her rambling until those words left her mouth.
I blinked a couple times in surprise, lifting my gaze from my plate of pasta and to her as I struggled to comprehend what she said.
"What?"
"Logan Huntzberger? Super rich... blonde... devastatingly handsome?" she led on, wiggling her brows suggestively.
Logan and I had kept our agreement to just stay friends. We had gotten coffee a couple times, and seen each other around campus, as normal friends do. He even dragged me out with Finn and Colin to some dive bar last week, which was fun.
I tried to shake off the nervous thoughts in the back of my head. Logan and I were just friends. We agreed to be friends. Nothing more.
"Oh... Yeah, we're friends..." I replied, not very convincingly. 
"Just friends? Come on, Stella! I know I'm oblivious to a lot of things but if you expect me to believe that you're nothing more than friends... you're the oblivious one."