Chapter 2

My body reacted before my brain could process the full extent of the catastrophe. Flight. That was the only option. I turned and ran.

I didn't just jog. I bolted, shoving past stunned students, my face burning with a heat that had nothing to do with the chilly afternoon air. Whispers and titters followed me, a wave of sound that felt like a physical force pushing me forward. This was a nightmare. A waking, public, life-ruining nightmare.

"Hey! Wait!"

Liam's voice cut through the noise, closer than I expected. It only made me run faster. I dodged a group of freshmen playing frisbee, my sneakers slipping on the damp grass. My only goal was the library. It was big, it was quiet, and it had a thousand places to hide.

I was almost at the steps when my foot caught on an uneven paving stone. I flailed, my arms pinwheeling wildly, and crashed headfirst into a large, rolling recycling bin filled with empty soda cans and paper. The bin tipped, spilling its contents all over the pristine library entrance. I landed in a heap of sticky, noisy garbage.

Defeat. Utter and complete.

Before I could even attempt to untangle myself from a discarded poster for a bake sale, a shadow fell over me. I looked up, past a pair of very familiar, very nice-looking basketball sneakers, up a pair of long legs in worn jeans, to the impossibly stunned face of Liam Hayes. He was breathing a little heavily from his run.

He reached down and grabbed my arm, his grip firm but not painful. He pulled me to my feet with an ease that was both embarrassing and a little bit thrilling.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice low.

"I'm fine," I squeaked, trying to brush crushed leaves and a suspicious sticky substance off my jeans. "I am so, so, so sorry. I didn't mean to... the button... it was an accident." My words tumbled out, a pathetic, jumbled mess.

Liam didn't let go of my arm. He just stood there, looking at me, his brow furrowed. The crowd was starting to catch up, forming a curious circle around us. My mortification level somehow managed to skyrocket even higher.

"An accident?" he said, his voice skeptical. He gestured vaguely back towards the quad. "That whole thing? You broadcast... that... by accident?"

"Yes! I'm the radio station manager. That's my equipment. I was just trying to... to check the levels. It was a technical malfunction." It was the worst lie I had ever told in my life. I was a terrible liar.

He raised an eyebrow. "You were checking the levels by saying you like me so much it hurts?"

My face felt like it was going to spontaneously combust. "It was... a line from a song! I was testing the mic with song lyrics! It's a professional technique."

"What song is that?" he asked, his expression unchanging.

I froze. My mind went completely blank. "It's... uh... a very obscure indie band. You wouldn't have heard of them. They're from... Finland."

Liam just stared at me. The silence stretched, thick and excruciating. I could feel the eyes of the entire student body burning into my soul. I wanted to die. I really, truly wanted to die right there, in a pile of recyclable waste.

He finally sighed, a long, weary sound. He let go of my arm, and for a second, I thought he was going to walk away. But he didn't. He crossed his arms over his chest. "Look," he said, his voice dropping even lower, so only I could hear. "I don't know what that was, but you kind of blew up my afternoon."

"I know," I mumbled, looking at my shoes. "I'm sorry. I'll pay for any damages. I'll do anything."

"It's not about damages," he said, a hint of frustration in his tone. "You created a... situation. A very public one. You need to take some responsibility for that."

I looked up at him, confused. "Responsibility? What do you want me to do? I already said I'm sorry."

His eyes, a warm, hazel color I had only ever admired from afar, were now fixed on me with unnerving intensity. They were flecked with green and gold. I had never been this close to him before. I could smell his laundry detergent, a clean, fresh scent. My heart did a stupid little flip-flop, even in the midst of my utter humiliation.

"I need you to help me fix it," he said simply.

Before I could ask what that even meant, I remembered the reason for this whole mess. Chloe. I had ruined his proposal to Chloe Miller. My stomach twisted with a fresh wave of guilt.

"Oh my god, Chloe," I whispered. "Is she okay? Was she... was she here?" I glanced around the crowd, looking for her perfect blonde hair and devastated expression.

Liam followed my gaze, his own expression turning to one of genuine confusion. He looked back at me.

"Chloe?" he asked. "Why would she be here? She's in her advanced poetry seminar right now."