Chapter 9
“Oh my god, I’m dead.”
Nova collapses in a heap by my and Willa’s feet.
We just finished our third night of Dance Club, and the theme was jive.
I’ve never been so exhausted in my life, and I didn’t tack on another twenty minutes of practice the way Nova did.
The girl has a death wish. But according to her, the upcoming tryouts for the spring musical are cutthroat as hell and she needs to work on her choreography.
Free time in the studio was too good to pass up.
If you ask me, she’s incredible and her routine is already perfect, but clearly, I know nothing.
She told us to go ahead to the cafeteria without her, but Willa and I stuck around to wait because, well, neither of us could physically move and it gave us the perfect opportunity to study.
Like now.
A fact Nova is just catching on to as she suddenly lifts her head from the wooden floor to stare at us through narrowed eyes. “Wait. Is the only reason you guys stayed to study chem? Did you even watch me at all?”
I ignore her and glance expectantly at Willa, who launches into a full-scale explanation of the standard notation method for electron configuration. Nova drops her head with a groan.
“We’re almost done, I swear,” Willa says with a laugh.
“Last card,” I confirm.
From her splayed-out position on the floor, Nova glares.
“If I hear another word about atomic whatevers, I may actually combust. Can we please, pretty please with a cherry on top, talk about something more fun? Like, oooh, Halloween costumes! I overheard Nox and Logan chatting the other day, and it gave me the perfect idea.”
Willa and I exchange a knowing glance while I try to ignore the way a sudden bolt of energy shoots all the way down into my stomach at the sound of Nox’s name.
Nova continues unaware. “They’re going as superheroes. And I thought, Hey, I look damn good in leather with a whip. So I can be Catwoman. And Willa, with your curly blonde hair, you’ve sort of got a Harley Quinn vibe going. And Clara’s all scientisty, so you can be Poison Ivy. It’s perfect!”
It’s not a bad idea, but it reeks of ulterior motives.
“One question,” I say. “Is Logan going as Batman?”
Nova innocently widens her eyes, but no matter how good of an actress she is, even she can’t pull off this lie. “Maybe.”
I snort. Willa laughs outright.
“Do you live just to troll him?” she asks.
“Also maybe.” Nova grins widely and jumps up, rejuvenated by three minutes off her feet while I still feel like a lump of dirty laundry tossed in the bedroom corner.
“I’m so excited! We’re going to look so hot.
” She waves her hand, noticing that Willa and I have made no sign of following. “Come on. I’m starving.”
We launch weak protests as Nova pulls us to our feet.
“What should we do tonight?” she asks as she pushes her way through the door into the crisp evening air.
Peach streaks still line the sky. The campus twinkles with lamplight.
Branches rustle in the breeze. I love how every time I step outside, it feels as if I’m walking into a storybook.
Something about this place just always feels like magic, tucked away and hidden, a secret from the rest of the world.
“Study?” I mutter.
Nova makes a face. “It’s Friday.”
“I’ll buy breakfast sandwiches for the library tomorrow,” Willa says and drops an arm around my shoulders. She’s so tall, I fit perfectly into her side as she squeezes me in a comforting hug. “You deserve a night off.”
The anxiety swirling in my gut at the thought of these midterms says differently.
“Yeah,” Nova agrees. “You need to blow off some steam.”
“Exactly. Take your mind off things.”
Nova nods thoughtfully before her entire face brightens. “I’m finding you a hookup!”
“What?” I snap my face to the side. “No.”
“Yes.” Nova’s eyes gleam with mischief, her thoughts already a runaway train. “You haven’t made out with anyone since we’ve been here.”
“I know, I just—” I swallow, my tongue decidedly fat as my throat seems to close.
Mabel used to get on my back all the time for being a prude.
I just like a kiss to mean something. I want butterflies and anticipation and all that good stuff.
Some drunk guy pressing me against a dirty basement wall doesn’t hold the same appeal.
But it feels too raw to admit that out loud, even to two of my best friends.
So I shift the heat to Willa instead. She can take it.
“Well, we aren’t all on the hunt for a mystery make-out man, are we? ”
“He’s out there somewhere.” She sighs wistfully.
That kiss from the first night of orientation still haunts her.
It was the self-proclaimed best kiss of her life, and now she’s on a one-woman mission to make out with every boy over six feet tall in our freshman class in order to find him.
It’s a tough job, but someone’s got to do it.
“I’m not worried about you,” Nova says to Willa with a dismissive wave before turning those sharp eyes on me. “I’m worried about you.”
“I’m fine.”
“Mm-hmm.”
We push into the cafeteria and start circling the stations.
“What about him?” Nova whispers and points to a cute blond guy waiting in line for a burger. I swat her hand down and glare.
“Stop.”
“Ooh, him,” she says, ignoring me as she whips her head toward a baseball player we chatted with a little bit last week.
“I’m pretty sure he was hitting on you, not me.”
She scoffs, then grabs my hand excitedly. “No, him! Hot nerd is totally your vibe.”
Not going to lie, the guy she juts her chin toward is completely my type—floppy brown hair, some slight scruff around his chin, tortoiseshell glasses he is totally pulling off, and a long-sleeve Henley just begging to be hugged.
Nova capitalizes on my momentary hesitation. “Let’s go over there.”
I grab her. “No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
This continues for about five minutes until our salads are ready, at which point I physically drag her to the checkout stand, only stopping to swipe some fries from the counter as I go.
Willa is somewhere behind us saying hello to the approximately five hundred people she knows all around campus.
The girl is too nice for her own good. I swear she’s friends with everyone.
On a normal night, I’d wait for her, but not now.
“There’s an open table.” I point all the way in the back, the complete opposite side of the room from where hot nerd took his dinner tray.
Nova frowns and pointedly arches her brow at me before glancing the other way. “What about—”
“Nova!”
Logan’s voice slices through the room. Heads spin. She just rolls her eyes.
“Over here!” He shouts again.
She sighs. “Come on. He won’t stop unless we go.”
I hope she doesn’t notice how my knuckles go white around my tray as we make our way over.
Nox doesn’t bother turning to look, which gives me ample time to glare at the back of his head.
It’s oddly comforting to imagine there are laser beams shooting from my eyes, burning off every perfectly unkempt black curl.
I’m not sure this is what my therapist meant when she taught me visualization techniques, but I’m not going to lie. It’s helping.
I don’t look at him as I take my seat.
He looks at me, though. Trying to ignore that heated stare is like trying to will away the sun on a cloudless summer day. It’s bone deep. I stab my fork into a piece of lettuce.
Logan leans over and whispers to Nova, “Why does she look like she wants to murder someone?”
“Isn’t that Clara’s normal state of being?” Nox grins behind his burger. I can practically see him putting a tally mark on his side of the scoreboard.
My nostrils flare. We haven’t said two words to each other outside of class since that little interaction in the hallway.
And in class, pretty much all we exchange are scathing critiques of each other’s work.
He ignores me at the pool. We usually ignore each other in the cafeteria, too.
I can count on one hand the number of times we’ve even made eye contact in the past month—it’s five.
To match the number of girls he’s brought back to his room.
I tell myself to ignore it. But I swear he parades them around in front of the window until I give in and look.
Then he gives me that smug glance and closes the blinds.
I know I’m probably losing my mind and it’s got absolutely nothing to do with me, but it feels personal. Every. Time. It feels deliberate.
“Shut up.” Nova kicks him under the table. “She’s just mad because I’m trying to hook her up with that hot nerd guy over there.”
The boys’ heads whip around so fast I fear they’ll get whiplash. Nox makes a face. Logan snorts.
“That guy?” the hockey player comments derisively.
“No,” Nova sneers. Then she grabs his head and turns it about two more inches to the right. “That guy. In the glasses. I caught him checking out her ass.”
“Huh.” Logan considers the option, then shrugs before turning to me.
“If checking out your ass is the only prerequisite, then like half the guys on my team would fit the bill, too. Hey!” He snaps his fingers, as if he just got a genius idea.
“You guys should come by the hockey house tonight. We’re having a party. I can be your wingman.”
I drop my face into my palms with a groan. “Oh my god.”
“Yes!” Nova cheers, ignoring me. “But who should we set her up with?”
I sink farther and farther into my chair as they slowly parse through the roster.
Is it too much to ask for a sinkhole to open up and save me from this hell?
Nox is being oddly silent. I sneak a quick peek at him through my fingers.
He’s staring at Logan, aggressively tearing bites off his burger, as if the meat patty has offended him on a deeply personal level.
His fingers dig into the bread with such force, pieces flake off and fall onto his tray at every little movement.
When it’s finally gone, he grabs the last handful of fries and shoves them in his mouth.
All that’s left on his tray is a half-empty water bottle, which he downs in a single gulp before crushing the plastic between his palms. Then he looks up.
At me.
It happens so fast I forget to turn away. One moment I’m gaping, and the next, I’m gasping as the full weight of his gaze slams into me like a freight train.
“Clara. Earth to Clara.” Nova’s singsong voice filters into my ears and I wrench myself away, snapping my head up from my hands to look at my friend. She smiles expectantly. “Well? What do you say?”
What do I say?
My mind is blank. It takes an embarrassingly long moment for me to even remember what she and Logan were talking about, but the second I do, I feel a blush creep its way up my cheeks. Then I remember Nox, and his window full of girls, and his blinds slamming down.
“Sure.” I shrug, already feeling the dread pool in my gut. “Why the hell not?”
Nova’s victory whoop is interrupted by the loud squeak of a chair. Nox stands so quickly, he almost knocks the damn thing over with the force.
“I gotta go,” he mumbles and picks up his tray, accidentally shouldering into Willa with his haste. He offers a muttered apology as he cuts around her, his long legs carrying him quickly to the door. She slides smoothly into the empty seat.
“What’s his problem?”
“Who knows?” Nova rolls her eyes. “But I have good news! Clara agreed to be set up with one of Logan’s teammates.”
“Ooh.” Excitement lines her eyes. “Who?”
“Danny Boy,” Logan supplies as he drums his finger on the table. “My goalie.”
“Is he over six feet tall?” Willa asks. I laugh into my closed fist. Nova does the same.
“I think so…?” Logan eyes us strangely. “Why?”
“No reason,” Willa murmurs, mischief oozing from her gaze as it shifts between me and Nova.
We’ve been sworn to secrecy about Mystery Make-Out Man, or MMM as we’ve taken to calling him.
If the boys ever find out, they’ll be merciless.
“But”—her attention snaps to me—“if he kisses like the devil, let me know.”
Oh god, what have I done?
Regret immediately floods my system, a feeling that only heightens as I square my shoulders and step into the hockey house five hours later.