Harper slammed the door to her dorm room so hard the corkboard above her desk rattled and a thumbtack skittered under her bed․ Sky’s not even looking up from her laptop when she says “That bad?” like this is a regularly scheduled event she’d already budgeted time for․ “Worse․” Harper peeled her bag off her shoulder and yanked her jacket down hard enough to make the zipper wince‚ fell facedown onto her bed like it owed her an apology‚ and groaned into the comforter․ “I hate him․” “You hate a lot of people on Tuesdays․ Be specific․” “Miles Miller․” She turned on her side‚ as though staring at the ceiling were going to help․ “I laid out seven rules.
Seven, Sky.
Clear, simple, reasonable rules.
He didn’t open a single book.
Not one.
He spent the entire ninety minutes trying to get a reaction out of me like I’m some kind of game he’s bored enough to play.” “Did it work?” “Did what work?” “The getting-a-reaction part․” Sky turned in her chair‚ crossed her arms‚ and gave the look that meant she’d already decided this conversation was more interesting than whatever paper she’d been pretending to write․ “Because you’ve been standing in the doorway for ten minutes ranting about a guy who apparently did nothing but sit there․ That’s a lot of energy for nothing․” He’s insufferable․ He’s exactly what everyone said he’d be entititled‚ lazy‚ thinks the entire world owes him a pass because he can skate fast and smile at the right angle․ Harper sat up‚ wrapping her arms around her knees․ The words came faster now‚ sharper‚ like she’d been holding them in since the library and they’d finally found the exit․ “He called me cute twice.
Can you believe it?
Like that’s supposed to help anything․ Like I’m supposed to just forget that he’s failing four classes because he can’t be bothered to crack a textbook․” “Okay‚ but‚” “And then I tried to leave‚ because there was no point sitting there while he flirted with the wall‚ and he grabbed my wrist․” Sky’s eyebrows shot up․ “He what?” “It wasn’t like that․” Harper waved a hand‚ dismissing it before Sky could build it into something it wasn’t․ “He just stopped me․ Said something․ It doesn’t matter what he said․” “It clearly matters‚ you went pale just talking about it․” “I did not go pale․” “Harper․” Sky leaned forward‚ elbows resting on her knees‚ looking at Harper as one might analyze an act of artifice after having known the trickster since freshman orientation‚ and having stopped falling for her little cheats some time around sophomore year․ “You’ve ranted about people before․ Professors․ That guy in your econ seminar who never does the reading․ You’ve never once come back this worked up over someone and then immediately tried to undersell exactly what happened․” “Because nothing happened․ He’s a walking ego with a hockey stick‚ and I’m stuck tutoring him for the rest of the semester because I need the stipend‚ and that’s the whole story․” Harper picked up a pillow and hugged it to her chest like a shield․ “There’s no twist․ There’s no – whatever you’re fishing for․ I hate him․ That’s all there is․” “Mm․” Sky didn’t look convinced‚ not even slightly‚ but she let it go‚ turning back to her laptop with the particular patience of someone choosing to drop a subject for now rather than because she believed it․ “Whatever you say․ Before she could respond‚ Harper’s phone buzzed on the desk․ She looked at it‚ and it was like some kind of tension in her chest broke․ Taylor․ She felt some of the strain leave her shoulders at the sight of his name glowing on the screen before she had even said it․ “It’s Taylor‚” she said‚ standing‚ walking to the window․ Her voice was softer before she’d spoken․ “Hey․” “Hey‚ you․” Taylor’s voice was the same as ever‚ same unhurried rhythm‚ the kind that suggested nothing in the world ever rattled him enough to rush․ “You sound out of breath․ Is everything okay?” “Long day․” She leaned her shoulder against the window frame‚ watching the courtyard below‚ students cutting across the wet grass with their hoods up against the cold․ “Tutoring started today․ It didn’t go great․” “The hockey player?” “The hockey player․” She rolled her eyes at her own reflection in the glass․ “He’s exactly what you’d expect․ Don’t take anything seriously․” “Sounds exhausting․” There was a smile in his voice‚ easy‚ uncomplicated․ “You want me to come by?
I could bring food․ You sound like you skipped dinner again․” “I did skip dinner․” “Of course you did․” He laughed‚ soft‚ fond‚ the kind of laugh that didn’t ask anything of her‚ that didn’t come with any sharp edges hiding underneath it․ “I’ll grab Thai on the way․ Don’t argue․” “I wasn’t going to․” They talked a while longer about the little familiar things‚ the latest calamity her lab partner had conceived‚ the McAllister review she’d read‚ the kind of conversation that took no bracing‚ no rules typed out in advance‚ no careful circling of the obstacles‚ and by the time she’d hung up‚ some of the tension from the library had actually drained out of her shoulders․ This was what steady felt like․ This was what she’d chosen‚ deliberately‚ a long time ago‚ someone who didn’t make her brace for impact every time he opened his mouth․ So why‚ walking back into her room and positioning herself on her bed, did some small part of her mind drift sideways into an entirely different conversation?
A wrist‚ warm under careful fingers․ A voice low and unguarded whispered something true․ She repressed the thought‚ angry with herself for even having it․ You good?” Sky asked‚ looking at her with the same too-perceptive look as before․ “Fine․” Harper sat down on her bed‚ hugging the textbook in her lap like a shield․ “Taylor’s bringing food․” “Taylor’s great‚” Sky said‚ and he meant it‚ he genuinely liked Taylor‚ and he’d said more than once that he was good for Harper in the exact ways Harper needed someone to be good for her․ “He’s exactly your type․ He is․” Harper said it like agreeing with it might ground something that suddenly‚ inexplicably‚ felt less solid than it had that morning․ She didn’t examine why that bothered her․ She didn’t want to look at it again․ Her phone buzzed again․ She thought Taylor‚ or maybe a follow-up‚ a joke about spring rolls‚ something easy․ She turned toward the screen‚ almost smiling‚ before she saw it․ It wasn’t Taylor․ Unknown Number: I couldn’t stop thinking about library rule #4 tonight․ You really do follow your own rules․ I respect that more than you’d believe․ And Harper froze as the phone snapped shut in her hand‚ and heat crawled from her throat up into her face so fast it felt like something solid‚ like something she could have pressed her palm against to feel it burning․ “Who is it?” Sky asked, already half out of her chair, already reading the look on Harper’s face like a book she’d been waiting all evening to open.
Harper didn’t answer right away.
She was too busy staring at the screen, furious she told herself it was fury, told herself that very firmly trying to figure out exactly how Miles Miller had gotten her number in the first place.
leave comments below.