Chapter 4

I stumbled back to my dorm room in a daze, the duffel bag feeling like it weighed a hundred pounds. I pushed the door open to find Sarah sitting on my bed, scrolling through her phone with a look of intense concentration.

She looked up, her eyes wide. "There you are! I called you like ten times! What happened? The entire campus is blowing up about the 'confession on the quad'!"

I threw the bag onto the floor and collapsed face-first onto my pillow. "Don't talk about it. I want to erase the last hour from my memory and possibly from the memory of all humankind."

"Too late for that," she said, holding up her phone. "It's already a meme. There's a picture of you covered in garbage with the caption 'My love life'."

I groaned into the pillow. "Just let me die."

"But wait," Sarah said, her voice dropping conspiratorially. "I heard the most important part. Liam wasn't actually proposing. It was a class project."

I rolled over to look at her. "I know. He told me."

Sarah's jaw dropped. "He talked to you? After you ran away? What did he say? Is he mad? Did you see Chloe? Was she crying?"

"He wasn't mad," I said slowly, sitting up. "And Chloe wasn't there. She was in class." I replayed the conversation in my head. He had been more confused and frustrated than angry.

"So Chloe Miller, who has been chasing Liam Hayes like he's the last man on earth, wasn't even at his big public... speech?" Sarah looked baffled. "I don't get it. Everyone knows she's obsessed with him."

I knew. I'd seen it myself. I had, on more than one occasion, arranged my library study sessions to coincide with the basketball team's schedule, just to catch a glimpse of Liam. And nearly every time, Chloe was there, finding a reason to talk to him, to laugh a little too loudly at something he said, to touch his arm.

I remembered one time specifically, a few weeks ago. I was hidden behind a tall stack of books, pretending to read about Renaissance art, but really I was watching Liam study. Chloe had walked up to his table, holding a copy of 'Wuthering Heights'. She'd asked him a question about the 'symbolism of the moors' with a practiced, helpless look on her face. Liam had looked up, given her a polite but brief answer, and then immediately turned back to his own work, effectively dismissing her. At the time, I'd thought he was just focused. Now, I wasn't so sure.

"Maybe he's not as into her as everyone thinks," I said, more to myself than to Sarah.

"Or maybe he's just playing hard to get," Sarah countered. "Either way, you're in the middle of it now."

She was right. I had to fix this. I couldn't leave him with a failed grade because of my public meltdown. I grabbed my phone, my fingers hesitating over the keypad. I didn't have his number. How was I supposed to contact him?

Then I remembered. The communications class. I pulled up the online student directory and typed in his name. There it was. Liam Hayes. His student email and phone number listed right there. It felt like I was looking at a state secret.

Taking a deep breath, I opened a new text message.

Me: Hey, this is Olivia Wilson. From the... quad. And the radio station. I am so incredibly sorry about what happened. I want to pay for a new project or do whatever I can to make it up to you.

I hit send before I could lose my nerve. The three little dots appeared almost instantly. My heart leaped into my throat.

Liam: Don't worry about it. It's not a big deal.

Not a big deal? I had humiliated myself and ruined his grade in front of hundreds of people. How was that not a big deal?

Me: It is a big deal! I feel terrible. Please let me do something. I could... make you a custom apology playlist? I'm really good at playlists. It's kind of my only skill.

I cringed as soon as I sent it. An apology playlist? That was the dumbest thing I had ever offered anyone.

A new message popped up.

Liam: A playlist?

Me: Yeah. For studying. Or working out. Or for... recovering from public humiliation caused by a crazy person. I'm very versatile.

I waited. The silence was agonizing. I was sure he was laughing at me.

Liam: Okay. But you can do something else for me too.

My breath hitched.

Me: Anything.

Liam: I have another project. For Professor Davies's elective, 'The Art of Storytelling'. I need a partner. And my original partner just dropped the class.

A project? With him? My mind raced. This was a chance to make things right. A chance to spend more time with him. A chance that terrified me down to my bones.

Me: I'm not in that class.

Liam: You don't have to be. I just need help with the performance part. It's a duet. You owe me.

He was right. I did owe him. Big time.

Me: Okay. I'll do it.

I typed the words before I could talk myself out of it. What had I just agreed to? A performance? A duet? With Liam Hayes?

Sarah peered over my shoulder. "What did you just agree to?"

"I think," I said, my voice trembling slightly, "I just agreed to a date."

"No," Sarah said, reading the texts. "I think you just agreed to be his project partner." She paused. "But for you, that's basically a date."

She wasn't wrong.