Chapter 2

"Dude. You're in deep shit. One foot still tangled up with Emily, and the other's already in her best friend's bed?" one of them snickered.

"I'll put five hundred on it. She'll forgive you again. Emily acts all high and mighty, but she always falls for your bullshit," another guy laughed.

"Last time, you were all over that girl from another department. She just cried all night and came crawling back to you the next day," the first one chimed in.

I stood outside, staring through the glass, my fingertips trembling.

Behind the haze of smoke, Michael gave a lazy smirk. "This time's different."

His buddies immediately started whistling.

"So what's different?" one of them asked.

"Did you actually catch feelings?" another joked.

Michael flicked his cigarette ash, his voice low and careless, a lazy laugh in it. "Sophie's way more obedient. Emily's got a nasty attitude. Who could stand that?"

My head was spinning. It felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over me, chilling me to the bone. Nasty attitude? Who could stand that? So this was what I got for keeping our relationship a secret for two years.

I almost wanted to laugh. To him, I was just trouble.

One of the guys next to him asked again. "So when are you gonna break up with her?" he asked.

Michael squinted, staring at the tip of his cigarette for a moment. "On the graduation day. Gotta let her keep her halo on."

As I stepped inside, the bell above the door chimed. All three of them looked up at once.

Michael's laid-back look slipped for just a second, and then he shrugged it off, barely sparing me even a hint of surprise.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

I walked right up to him, staring down at him.

I'd known this face for so many years.

He'd been a thief all my life, my eraser in grade school, my water in high school, and my first kiss in college.

His hand cradled the back of my skull, and he asked in a low voice, "Emily, that stubborn mouth of yours. How does it always end up so sweet against mine?"

Back then, even his bastard side felt a little endearing. Now, all that I felt was disgust.

I grabbed his iced coffee from the table and threw it straight in his face.

The convenience store went dead silent.

Ice cubes slid down his jaw, soaking his windbreaker and leaving a big wet mark.

The two guys next to him just stared, mouths hanging open like someone had just choked them.

Michael wiped his face, his eyes going dark. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

I stared at him, my throat raw like I'd swallowed razor blades. "We're done," I said.

He paused for a second and then let out a laugh. "So this is all because I didn't show up for your birthday? Emily, seriously? Aren't you a little old for this drama?"

I was so pissed that I almost laughed right in his face. Birthday? He actually had the guts to mention my birthday.

I picked up the cake knife from the table and tapped it lightly against the back of his hand. "Michael, drop the act. Whatever shit you've got with Sophie. I'm grossed out just knowing it exists."

His expression darkened. The two guys next to him looked like they'd seen a ghost, frozen in place, barely even breathing.

I set the knife back down and turned to leave.

Just as I was about to step out, his voice came from behind me, low and almost a growl. "Emily."

I didn't turn around.

He strode after me and grabbed my wrist, his grip so strong that it felt like he was crushing my bones. "Who told you all this crap?"

I stared at the hand he had on my wrist. That hand was probably wrapped around Sophie's waist just a few hours ago.

My stomach twisted, and I jerked away from him. "You've touched someone else. Stay the hell away from me."

He stiffened, his eyes narrowing.

The night wind whipped down the street, messing up my hair. I stood outside the guys' dorm in old pajamas, one slipper barely hanging on, looking like a total joke.

But suddenly, I didn't even feel like crying anymore. I just felt drained.

"Michael." I looked up at him, making sure he heard every word. "From today on, you'd better pray you never end up in my hands again."

With that, I turned and walked away. When I got to the dorm building, my phone buzzed. It was a message from Sophie.

Sophie: [Emily, it's not Michael's fault. I liked him first.]

I stood in the cold wind, reading the message three times before a slow smile crept onto my face.

She stole my man and wanted to be my good friend?

My phone buzzed again. This time, it was Michael.

Michael: [Enough with the drama. Come find me tomorrow.]

I stared at his text and then blocked him. Then I swung open the dorm door.

Sophie was sitting on my bed. When she looked up and saw me, her eyes were full of nervous apology. "Emily..."

I picked up the birthday present she gave me and tossed it straight into the trash.

"Get out of my bed," I said.

Her face went ghostly pale. "Emily, I..."

I stared at her, slowly curling my lips into a smile. " You'd better not sleep too soundly tonight. I might just snap in the middle of the night and chop all your hair off with scissors."

She jumped up, stepping back, scared.

But I just smiled even softer. "After all, stealing what's not yours is a habit that needs fixing."

That night, we spent the whole night on opposite sides of the dorm, not saying a word, just waiting for the sun to come up.

Outside, the sky slowly turned pale.

I stared at the ceiling, my eyes dry and aching, but my mind was stuck on one thought. This wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

The next morning at eight, I stepped outside, and there Michael was. Posted up against the lamppost with a paper cup in one hand and a white bakery bag in the other.

Every single time he pissed me off, he showed up the next day with something warm and acted like nothing had happened.

When he caught sight of me, his face went soft, and he held the bag out like a peace offering. "Eat."

I didn't take it.

He lowered his voice. "Let me explain about last night."

I looked at that bag, and something turned over in me. In freshman year, I'd been curled up in bed once, cramps so bad I couldn't move, and Michael had climbed the damn wall into my dorm and shoved a bag of hot food into my arms.

"You're not dead, right? Perfect. Now eat," he said.