Chapter 5

Amelia clearly didn't see that coming. Her face went from red to ghost-white, and she was so stunned she couldn't even spit out a comeback.

But Amelia's words had hit Daisy hard, like a thorn lodged deep.

That bold line outside the cafeteria—"I'm just having some fun with your boy too"—was all bravado. Back in her dorm, the insecurities from her rough family life came flooding back, heavy and relentless.

She stared daggers at the goofy cat-headed doll on her nightstand, the one secret tie she had to Zachary.

At night, in a fit of spite, she didn't hug it like she usually did. She just shoved it to the edge of her pillow and turned away to sleep.

Deep in the night, right on schedule, Zachary's familiar voice—low and a little whiny—popped into her head: [Daisy-boo, what's up? No love for your ol' pal tonight? You pissed or something?]

Daisy kept her eyes shut, but a tiny smirk tugged at her lips.

[No hugs? Man, that's rough,] his voice went on, cracking just a touch. [I'm not gonna lie—I might just lose it and start crying here.]

Crying? Daisy's heart did a little flip, her ears practically twitching with curiosity.

She was dying to hear what Mr. Too-Cool-to-Care sounded like when he let the waterworks fly.

But after a long pause, no tears came. Zachary's voice slid back to its usual fake-chill vibe, though the letdown in his tone was impossible to miss. [Guess Daisy-boo's just wiped out tonight. She's been super quiet.]

[Alright, I'm a bit salty, but what can you do?]

[Night, Daisy-boo.]

Psh. Daisy scoffed to herself, feeling oddly disappointed. She flipped over, nudging Mr. Whiskers even farther away, turning her back on it completely.

Without that doll to hold, Daisy's sleep was a total mess. Her dreams were a jumble of Amelia's smug-ass grin and Zachary's red-rimmed eyes.

Come morning, she was dragging through class, yawning like a zombie and completely out of it.

Right after class, the journalism club president blew up the group chat, barking for everyone to haul ass to the clubroom.

At the meeting, they dropped the semester's big gig: an exclusive interview with the finance department's golden boy, Zachary. And, no shocker, the job landed right in Daisy's lap.

Clutching the interview outline, Daisy's nerves were screaming, but the president's orders were ironclad. She schlepped over to the finance building, asking around for Zachary's whereabouts. Someone said he'd dipped into his advisor's office.

Daisy sucked in a deep breath and headed that way. Passing the stairwell, a familiar voice stopped her dead in her tracks. Without thinking, she followed it.

The second she stepped into the dim stairwell, her heart dropped like a rock.

There was Amelia, up on her tiptoes, hands draped over Zachary's shoulders, her face tilted way too close to his.

From Daisy's spot, they looked way too cozy—like they were about to lock lips.

Right then, Amelia's eyes flicked open and zeroed in on Daisy.

Not a hint of surprise in her gaze—just a cocky, in-your-face smirk that screamed victory.

Daisy felt a cold wave shoot from her feet to her scalp. Her fists clenched so tight her nails nearly drew blood.

Her brain went boom—anger and crushing disappointment drowning out every shred of sense. Oh, real cute, you two. What a pair of snakes.

She didn't stick around for the encore. The second she stormed off, Zachary's face turned to stone, and he shoved Amelia back, his voice sharp as a blade. "Amelia, chill out and keep your hands to yourself."

Amelia stumbled, nearly eating the floor, her smug grin freezing and then shattering.

But Daisy was long gone, her head spinning with Amelia's earlier jab about their families "locking it down soon" and the "kiss" she was dead sure she'd just seen.