Wednesdays were the new Monday—the worst day of the week. Because Wednesdays meant that ASTR201 with Luke returned with a vengeance. After he was absent last time, there was no way I'd be that lucky twice in a row.

From the moment I woke up, a thick, black storm cloud of dread loomed over me. Even Zara and Noelle remarked that I seemed edgy in our 11 AM research methods class. After parting ways with them, I headed over to The Dish, one of the campus cafes, for a late lunch that I barely even wanted to eat. I lingered over my chicken and brown rice bowl while time seemed to assume warp speed, rocketing me closer and closer to 2 PM.

Fueled by adrenaline, I speed-walked to class early and grabbed the same spot—off to the side at the back. Then I unpacked my things and prayed. With every minute that drew closer to 2 PM, my nerves climbed a little bit higher. I waited, jiggling my foot and tapping my pen against the desktop until someone sitting in front of me turned around and shot me a dirty look.

The clock hit 2 PM and Professor Walsh walked up to the podium, beginning the lecture on the properties of stars. Still no Luke. I heaved a sigh, muscles relaxing. I lucked out again—or so I thought. Then he rushed in two minutes late and found an empty seat near the front. As he did, our eyes met across the room, and I immediately looked away.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end for the entire lecture as I ignored Luke's attempts to catch my eye during class, steadfastly focusing on my notes and slides at the front. After class ended, I quickly gathered up my pens and books, sliding them back into my bag with one big sweep of the arm. If I could get out fast, I could avoid him.

"Bailey," Luke called. "Wait." He scaled the steps two at a time, dodging other students in the aisle to reach me.

The desperate need to escape seized me, and the dark cloud that had been with me all day morphed into a category four hurricane of anger and panic.

Worst case scenario confirmed.

I speed-walked down the aisle, making a beeline for the doors at the back. Unfortunately, he beat me to the end of the row and was standing in wait when I got there.

"If I throw a stick, will you leave?" I asked, tone flat.

He glared at me. "I came over to say hi. What's your problem?"

Other than the fact that you exist? Nothing. Nothing at all.

"Don't talk to me," I said, brushing past with my book bag wedged between us. "In fact, don't even look at me. Pretend I don't exist, and I'll do the same in return."

He followed close behind me, like a toxic shadow I couldn't shake. "What the hell has gotten into you?"

"Gee, I don't know. Maybe it's the fact that you got a new girlfriend the day after you dumped me." I came to a stop at the exit while people filtered past us, turning to face him. If he didn't care about making a scene, then neither did I. "Or it could be the part where you're trying to turn everyone against me."

As I finished speaking, the last handful of people left and the doors shut behind them with an ominous click. Suddenly, we were the only two left standing in the empty lecture hall. Alone in the beige-walled prison under fluorescent lighting. The literal last place I wanted to be.

"Why are you being so hostile?" He gestured angrily. "Sophie doesn't have a problem with you."

In the moment, I didn't know what I had ever seen in him. He was delusional, self-centered, entitled.

"Are you kidding me? Why would she? I never did anything to her." I shook my head, pushing my hair out of my face. "You didn't even miss a beat."

Luke's square jaw clenched and he took a step closer, fists balled. It might have been intimidating, if not for the fact that we were nearly the same size. And even though he was an asshole, I wasn't scared of him in the physical sense.

The only damage he had ever inflicted on me was emotional.

"Like you're one to talk." He dropped his voice, taking on a bitter edge. "Carter? What the hell is that about?"

"What do you care?" I jutted my chin.

"He's...he's not a good guy," Luke spluttered, a red flush flooding his face. He was easy to rile up, which made him the perfect target for Chase.

"And yet, still better than you."

"He's going to—"

"Hurt me?" I smirked. "After putting up with you, I think I can take care of myself." I turned on my heel and pushed open the heavy swinging doors, letting them close behind me with a bang.

Unfortunately, I knew from experience that Luke wasn't good at letting things go. Wednesdays were going to be the equivalent of Groundhog Day combined with Friday the 13th. An endless loop of unpleasantry with him.

Maybe the W on my transcript was worth burning those tuition credits on after all.

As I headed through the glass roof atrium toward the library, I was greeted by an equally irritating text from my brother, who'd apparently lost his mind.

Derek: You can't do this, B.

Bailey: What?

Derek: Date Carter. It's crazy.

Bailey: I didn't ask for your permission.

Derek: We have to talk. Can you do coffee?

Bailey: To talk about Carter? No.

Derek: Not just that.

Bailey: I'm pretty booked this month.

Students passed by me, chattering as I stood in the outside the library entrance, glaring at my phone. I wasn't even dating the guy and I was being forced to defend it as if I was. Was this 1950? Did I need a male chaperone or something? And was anyone giving Luke grief about Sophie? Of course not. My life was the only one under the microscope.

It was infuriating. I was simultaneously being scrutinized and ostracized.

*

Later that evening, I was in the kitchen pulling a mug out the cupboard to make tea with when the doorbell rang. Footsteps sounded, so I didn't bother going to answer the door. I opened a new box of teabags, selecting a chamomile-orange blend.

I wasn't expecting any deliveries, but we received packages several times a week due to Jillian's online shopping addiction. Sometimes it seemed like she was single-handedly keeping Amazon afloat.

Amelia rushed past while I grabbed the kettle from the stove, filling my lucky green mug. The door squeaked as she swung it open.

"Hey," she said, voice a little too bright to be natural. Clearly, it was not the UPS truck like I'd thought.

There was a chorus of replies as several voices greeted her in response, including one all-too-familiar male voice. Mid-pour, I glanced up and missed the mug, nearly scalding myself in the process. There stood Paul and Mendez—with Luke and Sophie in tow.

Apparently, Amelia and Jillian decided to have people over without letting me know. Or inviting me, not that I would have wanted to join.

Then I realized: it was a freaking triple date. Couples' night at our house.

And Luke's attendance was payback for earlier.

To add insult to injury, I was in scrubby loungewear; old grey sweats and a baggy concert tee, the kind of thing you only wear at home without company. My hair was in loose, messy waves around my shoulder. I was the picture of unkempt and decidedly not prepared to see my ex with his brand-new girlfriend.

I froze for a moment, wanting to die and cry at the same time. Self-preservation kicked in and I grabbed my mug, bolting straight upstairs and shutting the door to my room.

Breathing heavily, I leaned against the door, heart rate exceeding any normal, healthy upper limit. Laugher echoed upstairs through the heating vent beside my desk. Everyone proceeded to talk boisterously in the living room like everything was completely normal. But none of this was normal, at least not to me.

Was it too late to transfer schools? Even Boyd had to be better than dealing with this. Okay, maybe not. The Falcons were still a pretty tough sell.

I wasn't sure if I was upset because Sophie had Luke, or because she was taking over my old life. My place. My role. She just stepped right in and replaced me, like we were interchangeable puzzle pieces.

I didn't really miss Luke.

But I missed feeing like I belonged, like I was part of the group. And I definitely did not enjoy my new, social outcast status.

Over on my desk, my phone lit up. I walked over and grabbed it with shaky hands, unlocking the screen.

Amelia: Sorry, B. Was supposed to be the four of us. Didn't know Luke would tag along.

Bailey: Right.

Sure she didn't. My phone lit up again, seconds later.

Amelia: Plus, I mean...it is my place too.

Bailey: Good point. In that case, maybe I should have Lauren over to watch The Bachelor next week.

Incredibly petty on my part, but I didn't care. Lauren was a fellow journalism major who I was acquainted with from freshman year when we were in the same section of Introduction to Journalism. But more importantly, Lauren and Paul dated shortly before he met Amelia and according to my brother, Paul was completely and madly enamored with her. Legend has it, he cried when she dumped him and refused to leave his room for a week even to shower.

Needless to say, Lauren was a major sore spot for Amelia, who had never invoked such a strong emotional reaction in Paul herself. Amelia once threatened to break up with him in the midst of a fight and he'd simply shrugged and said, "If you feel you need to, go ahead."

I flopped down on my bed, scrolling social media in search of distraction, but seeing the highlight reel from everyone else's lives only made me feel worse. It didn't help that Noelle was hostessing until close tonight and Zara had a date with some new guy from Tinder, effectively exhausting all of my other friend options.

Normally, I would have enjoyed something like wandering around a bookstore solo for a while, but in light of the party downstairs that I wasn't invited to, even that seemed a little depressing.

Setting down my phone, I raided my closet and changed into a nicer pair of black jeans and a cute grey sweater. I felt less shlubby, but I was still trapped in my room. I desperately wanted to get out of the house and take my mind off of everything for a while—and I didn't want to do it alone.

There was only one other person I could think of.

It was crazy. One hundred percent certifiable. But it was still better than being here.

And maybe, just maybe, I wanted the excuse.

Bailey: SOS

Chase: SOS? Silk Or Satin?

Chase: Personally, I'm a fan of both

Bailey: Carter.

Chase: James.

Bailey: I'm being serious. I'm trapped in my room and I need help.

Chase: You know the lock is on the inside, right?

Bailey: Yes, smartass. But Amelia invited people over to our place and Luke showed up with them.

Chase: awkward.gif

Bailey: At this point, I might climb the fire escape to get away.

Chase: Just left an evening lecture. Wanna hang?

Bailey: Sure.

Chase: I can be there in 20.

Chase: But use the front door, James. We don't need your clumsy ass falling off the fire escape.

Bailey: Har har.

A rush of exhilaration ran through my entire body, like when a rollercoaster suddenly plunges down a steep drop. It was excitement, effervescent and bright, mingled with hints of fear.

2 minutes later...

Bailey: Speaking of the front door, can you do me a favor?

Chase: What kind of favor?

Bailey: Not that kind.

Chase: Dammit.

Bailey: When you get here, can you come to the front door?

Chase: And say hi to my BFF Morrison? It would be my pleasure.