Fueled by adrenaline, I speed-walked to class early and grabbed the same spot—off to the side at the back. Then I unpacked my things and prayed. With every minute that ticked by, my nerves climbed a little higher. I waited, jiggling my foot and tapping my pen against the desktop until someone sitting in front of me turned around and shot me a dirty look.
The clock hit two p.m. and Professor Walsh began his lecture on the properties of stars. Still no Luke. I heaved a sigh, muscles relaxing. I lucked out again—or so I thought. Two minutes after class started, he rushed in and found an empty seat near the front. As he did, he turned around, making eye contact before I could look away.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end for the entire lecture. I steadfastly focused on my notes and the slides at the front while I ignored Luke’s attempts to catch my eye. Class ended, and I quickly gathered up my pens and books, sliding them back into my bag with one big sweep of the arm. If I could get out fast, I could avoid him.
“Bailey,” Luke called. “Wait.” He scaled the steps two at a time, dodging other students in the aisle to reach me.
Worst-case scenario confirmed. The desperate need to escape seized me, and the dark cloud that had been with me all day morphed into a category-four hurricane of anger and panic. I speed-walked down the aisle, making a beeline for the doors at the back. Unfortunately, he beat me to the end of the row and was standing in wait when I got there.
“If I throw a stick, will you leave?” I asked, tone flat.
He glared at me. “I came over to say hi. What’s your problem?”
Other than the fact that you exist? Nothing. Nothing at all.
“Don’t talk to me,” I said, brushing past with my book bag wedged between us. His woodsy cologne wafted around me, both familiar and unpleasant. “In fact, don’t even look at me. Pretend I don’t exist, and I’ll do the same in return.”
Luke followed close behind like a toxic shadow I couldn’t shake. “What the hell has gotten into you?”
“Gee, I don’t know. Maybe it’s how you got a new girlfriend the day after you dumped me.” I came to a stop at the exit while people filtered past us, then turned to face him. If he didn’t care about making a scene, then neither did I. “Or it could be the part where you’re trying to turn my friends against me.”
As I finished, the last handful of people left and the doors shut behind them with an ominous click. Suddenly, we were the only two left standing in the empty lecture hall. Alone in the beige-walled prison under fluorescent lighting. The literal last place I wanted to be.
“Why are you being so hostile?” He threw his arms out, palms up. “Sophie doesn’t have a problem with you.”
What had I ever seen in him? He was delusional, self-centered, entitled.
“Are you kidding me? Why would she? I never did anything to her.” I shook my head, pushing my hair out of my face. “You didn’t even miss a beat.”
Luke’s square jaw clenched, and he took a step closer, fists balled. It might have been intimidating, if not for the fact that we were nearly the same size. And even though he was an asshole, I wasn’t scared of him in the physical sense.
The only damage he had ever inflicted on me was emotional.
“Like you’re one to talk.” His voice took on a bitter edge. “Carter? What the hell is that about?”
“What do you care?” I jutted my chin.
“He’s…he’s not a good guy,” Luke spluttered, a red flush flooding his face. He was easy to rile up, which made him the perfect target for Chase.
“And yet, still better than you.”
“He’s going to—”
“Hurt me?” I smirked. “After putting up with you, I think I can take care of myself.” I turned on my heel and pushed open the heavy swinging doors, letting them close behind me with a bang.
Unfortunately, Luke wasn’t good at letting things go. I’d experienced that firsthand many times. Wednesdays were going to be the equivalent of Groundhog Day combined with Friday the 13th. An endless loop of unpleasantry with him.
Maybe the W on my transcript would be worth burning those tuition credits on after all.
I headed through the glass-roofed atrium toward the library. My phone chimed, and I was greeted by an equally irritating text from my brother, who’d apparently lost his mind.
Derek: You can’t do this, B.
Bailey: What?
Derek: Date Carter. It’s crazy.
Bailey: I didn’t ask for your permission.
Derek: We have to talk. Can you do coffee?
Bailey: To talk about Carter? No.
Derek: Not just that.
Bailey: I’m pretty booked this month.
Students passed by me, chattering as I stood outside the library entrance, glaring at my phone. I wasn’t even dating the guy, and I was being forced to defend myself. Was this 1950? Did I need a chaperone or something? And was Luke getting grief about Sophie? Of course not. My life was the only one under the microscope.
It was infuriating. I was simultaneously being scrutinized and ostracized.
Later that evening, I was in the kitchen pulling a mug out of the cupboard to make tea with when the doorbell rang. Footsteps sounded, so I didn’t bother answering the door. I wasn’t expecting any deliveries, but because of Jillian’s online shopping addiction, we received packages several times a week. Sometimes it seemed like she was single-handedly keeping Amazon afloat.
I opened a new box of tea bags, selecting a chamomile-orange blend. Amelia rushed past while I grabbed the kettle from the stove and filled my lucky green mug.
The door squeaked as she swung it open. “Hey,” she said, voice a little too bright to be natural. Clearly, it was not the UPS truck like I’d thought.
There was a chorus of replies as several voices greeted her in response, including one all-too-familiar male voice. Mid-pour, I glanced up and missed the mug, nearly scalding myself in the process. There stood Paul and Mendez—with Luke and Sophie in tow.
Apparently, Amelia and Jillian had invited people over without letting me know. Or including me. Not that I would have joined in.
Then I realized: it was a freaking triple date. Couples’ night at our house.
And Luke’s attendance was payback for earlier.
To add insult to injury, I was in scrubby loungewear; old gray sweats and a baggy concert tee, the kind of thing you only wear at home without company. My hair was in loose, messy waves around my shoulders. I was the picture of unkempt and decidedly not prepared to see my ex with his brand-new girlfriend.
I froze for a moment, wanting to die and cry at the same time. Self-preservation kicked in. I grabbed my mug and bolted straight upstairs. After I’d shut my bedroom door, I leaned against it, breathing heavily, my heart rate exceeding any normal, healthy upper limit. Laughter echoed upstairs through the heating vent beside my desk. They proceeded to talk boisterously in the living room like everything was completely normal. But none of this was normal, at least not to me.
Was it too late to transfer schools? Even Boyd had to be better than dealing with this. Okay, maybe not. The Falcons were still a pretty tough sell.
Sophie had Luke, and while that stung, it hurt more that she was taking over my old life. My place. My role. She stepped right in and replaced me, like we were interchangeable puzzle pieces.
I didn’t really miss Luke, but I missed the sense of belonging, like I was part of the group. And I definitely did not enjoy my new social-outcast status.
Over on my desk, my cell lit up. I set my tea next to it, my heart doing an unhappy ka-thunk when I saw the message.
Amelia: Sorry, B. Was supposed to be the four of us. Didn’t know Luke would tag along.
Bailey: Right.
Amelia: Plus, I mean…it is my place too.
Bailey: Good point. In that case, I’ll invite Lauren over to watch The Bachelor next week.