Chapter 1

On the surface, Michael Reed and I, Emily Taylor, were enemies.

He stole my spotlight in lectures. I ruined his debates. He thought I was fake. I thought he was arrogant.

Everyone said we were like rabid dogs whenever we crossed paths.

No one saw him corner me behind the supply room, tilting my chin, whispering, "Emily, how much longer are you going to play cool with me?"

No one saw me alone on my birthday, waiting from midnight until the frosting on my cake melted away.

Then Sophie Lane, my bestie, walked in. Her cheeks burned. Her backpack hit the floor. A used condom rolled out.

I blinked.

"Emily... Michael and I are together."

I didn't cry out. It was just... Two years of secrets, and just like that, everything I thought mattered became a joke.

*****

On my twenty-first birthday, I was alone in my dorm room.

The cake sat on the table, candles flickering before dying out, like two confessions that never lasted.

At 12:01 AM, I texted Michael.

Emily: [Where are you?]

He didn't reply.

At 12:20, I texted again.

Emily: [Michael, it's my birthday today.]

Still no reply.

At one in the morning, a couple downstairs was setting off fireworks. The security guard was cursing as he chased after them, and the hallway was pure chaos.

I sat on the little stool out on the balcony, hugging my knees, watching my phone screen light up and go dark again and again.

The class group chat was blowing up with messages. My social media feed was flooded with birthday wishes.

Michael didn't text. He didn't send anything.

I stared until my eyes burned, reached up to wipe them, and my hand came away cool and damp.

How pathetic. I was actually crying. And I was crying over a jerk like Michael.

At 3:07, the dorm door finally opened.

Sophie peeked in, her backpack in hand, trying not to wake anyone up, looking like she was sneaking in after doing something she shouldn't. When she saw me sitting on the balcony, she froze for a second.

"Emily, why are you still up?" she asked.

I didn't answer. I just stared at her.

She was wearing that new white dress, one button undone at the collar, a faint red mark on her collarbone. Her hair was a mess, her lipstick was smudged, but her eyes were shining.

She bent down to set her backpack on the floor, and something small and square fell out with a soft thud.

The air went still.

She scrambled to pick it up, but I was faster. I snatched it up before she could, seeing the string of letters on the wrapper and the half-dried milky stain at the edge.

My hand stopped mid-motion.

It was like someone stabbed me in the chest and then ripped the knife out, leaving nothing but cold air rushing in.

Sophie's face went bright red, and her ears burned.

"Emily, I..." she stammered.

I slowly looked up, my voice so soft that I could barely hear it myself.

"You have a boyfriend now?" I asked.

She bit her lip, too embarrassed to meet my eyes. "Yeah."

"Who is it?" I asked.

"Michael Reed," she whispered.

The curtains weren't fully closed, and the streetlight outside spilled onto her flushed face, making her look like a blushing bride who had just woken up from a sweet dream.

But all I felt was something inside me snap.

Michael and I had been seeing each other for two years.

No one knew.

The whole school thought we were sworn enemies, like we'd throw hands in the classroom any second.

But only Michael and I knew about the kisses in empty stairwells, the secret hand-holding behind the library, and the nights tangled up until sunrise in front of hotel windows.

He always said it was thrilling. I thought he was crazy.

But every time he grabbed my wrist and pulled me into his arms, I'd always soften up, always let him do whatever he wanted.

I thought it was love. Now, looking back, I was just asking for it.

Sophie was still quietly trying to explain. "Emily, please don't be mad. I wasn't trying to hide it from you, really. It's just... Michael said we should keep it quiet for now."

My vision went black for a moment. She sounded so natural and familiar.

She used to trash-talk Michael with me, saying that no matter how handsome he was, his words could cut like poison. But now, she was fucking him.

I clenched my palm so hard that my nails dug deep.

"When did you two start?" I asked.

"About three months ago," she said.

For the past three months, Michael had kept saying he was busy. Busy with competitions, projects, and social events.

So busy that out of ten times I asked him out, he'd blow me off nine. So busy that when I was hospitalized with a fever, he only showed up late at night with takeout, leaning against the door, all lazy, and said, "Emily, you're really hard to kill."

I snapped back at him, saying he was being a jerk.

It turned out that all that time he claimed he was busy, he was spending it with someone else.

Sophie kept sneaking glances at me, like she was worried I couldn't take it, her voice getting even softer.

"It all started when I saw him getting hassled off campus and called the police.

"After that, he'd bring me breakfast in the mornings and walk me back to my dorm at night. Last night, when I got stuck in the library elevator, he was the one who came to get me..."

She paused, her lashes fluttered. "It was so late when we got back, so we just... ended up at a..."

She left the rest unsaid. I didn't care to hear the rest anyway.

I stood up, my legs so numb I nearly collapsed. I steadied myself on the balcony railing, grabbed my jacket, and stormed out.

Sophie called after me. "Emily, where are you going?"

I didn't even look back. "Going to find that jerk."

Half the hallway lights were busted, flickering on and off in the dark.

I dashed down six flights in my slippers, the sound of my footsteps hammering through the empty stairwell. I ran all the way to the guys' dorm, cold wind whipping into my pajama collar and making goosebumps pop up all over me.

The convenience store was still open. Through the glass window, my eyes landed on Michael instantly.

He was wearing a black windbreaker, slouched on a barstool with a cigarette between his fingers. His profile was sharp, his nose straight and prominent, and even with that tired look in his eyes, it just made him even more attractive.

Two of his roommates were next to him, totally hyped up and talking nonstop.