“Gotta,” I reply hoarsely, trying not to panic.
“Aw. I’ll see you again, won’t I?” she asks. She leans in and brushes her lips against my cheek, running one finger along the seam of my hoodie as she does so, her hand lingering by the pocket for a second. “Promise me?”
“I—”
“I’ll hold you to that.” She winks at me, definitely winks at me this time, then turns to walk back to Jasper with her hips swaying.
Sweating and shaking, I turn away from Jasper’s glare and run toward the dorms, one hand slipping inside my pocket to finger the paper Olive dropped inside. I feel my heartbeat race again. Does she know?
I don’t stop running until I get to my dorm and blast through the door, startling Rafael from the book he’s reading.
“You look pale,” Rafael says, his voice flat as ever.
I slam the door shut and lean against it, breathing hard as I pull out the small slip of paper.
This piques Rafael’s interest.
“What’s that?” he asks, abandoning his book to come look over my shoulder. He grabs my hands to steady them as I shakily unfold the paper. They’re still shaking too much, however, so he takes it from me to look over it himself. His face darkens, and he holds it out for me to read.
The paper has Olive’s name printed in neat lettering at the top. She’s dotted the “i” in her name with a heart, and beneath that is a phone number.
Olive’s number. Where she found the time to scribble this without any one of us noticing, I don’t know. Something tells me it’s the sign of an experienced flirt—and in this case, a dangerous one.
“Well,” Rafael says, dropping his hands from mine. “Looks like Olive likes you. That’s going to make things even worse.”
“Wait, Olive? You know her?”
“Everyone knows her,” he says, shaking his head. “Even people who don’t go here know her. She’s basically a socialite celebrity.”
“Oh,” I say, my voice barely making a sound as I glance back down at the paper before fluttering it in the air in front of me. “So, she thinks I’m cute. Why’s that a problem, again?”
Even as I say it, breathless and heady, I think I already know the answer.
“Because Jasper’s been trying—unsuccessfully, I’ve heard—to fuck that girl for years.”
Chapter Seven
It isn’t my fault Jasper can’t close the deal with Olive.
Besides, just because she gave me her phone number doesn’t mean anything. Anything.
If I know her type, she probably just wanted to make Jasper jealous. Keep stringing him along just enough to keep him interested without actually ever committing to anything.
Jasper’s smart. He must know that. He’s got to see it too.
At least … that’s what I’m hoping.
But so far, and as far as Rafael is convinced, hoping isn’t going to get me very far.
I’m doing my best to keep my books together as I trot alongside Rafael toward math class a couple days later. He glances back at me for what feels like the hundredth time and can’t help but roll his eyes at me.
“Keep up, little bean.”
“I’m trying.”
“Can’t be late like you were Monday, on your first day.” He shoots me a grin. “You really do know how to make a first impression, don’t you?”
I huff and puff at his side, trying not to remember getting shoulder-checked so hard in the hallway yesterday that my books went flying as I went sprawling to the floor; or having my fingers crushed beneath Jasper’s heavy textbook when he dropped it on my desk the next day with a smiling, unconvincing “Oops!”.