Page 35 of The Save

“Who are you?” Tash asked.

“I—” Chase hesitated. “Was just leaving.” Chase ducked his head and stepped back into the entry.

Tash followed, disappearing behind the wall. “I’m thinking not a student because you look like you have your shit together.”

I scurried out behind him. “Tash?—”

“You do look like a hockey player, though. With the arms. The stache.”

“Tash, seriously.” I gave Chase an apologetic look.

He gave a tight smile and opened the door. “Have a good weekend.”

“Wait!” Tash’s eyes widened. “Is this the guy? The one you were baking cookies for?”

“No!” I grimaced and hurried to close the door behind him as Chase stepped over the threshold. “Those were for the team!” I finished, too loudly. I turned to face my roommate, pressing my back against the door. “Really?”

Tash grinned at me. “That’s him, isn’t it? The coach, your brother, the guy you had the hots for in high school?”

I groaned. How much had I said while being lulled by the melancholy strains of Bush Y? Or Z? Or whatever the hell their name was? “You’re an asshole.”

She laughed. “Definitely. But you were just pressed up against a faculty member in the kitchen, so.”

She had a point.

Chapter

Thirteen

The study roomin the North Centre still smelled like chalk and vending machine coffee, and I was grateful for it. I needed every ounce of intellectual stimuli available to do what I was about to do.

I’d done some thinking over the weekend and realized a few things about myself. First, I couldn’t skip breakfast. Second, that blowup in Chase’s truck? It was ninety percent about Melody Sanchez. Yes, I was annoyed that I hadn’t gotten credit, but it wasn’t about the academic props. It was that I wanted him to notice me.

It sounded pathetic, but that moment in the entryway? That knot in my throat? It unlocked something I didn’t know about myself. It turned out, I wasn’t immune to the immature longings that my friends always complained about. I wanted a guy to notice me for what I had to offer, just like they did, but what I brought to the table was my brain. I didn’t have musical skills like Shar or a tiny, petite body with big boobs like Crystal—not saying that’s the only thing she had to offer, it was just a very noticeable thing, considering the men constantly knocking on her door.

I wasn’t going to pretend I wasn’t beautiful. I was pretty, but I was also different. As much as guys pretended they liked unknowns, it wasn’t true. They liked to feel comfortable, safe, just like women did, and I was an unknown. Different skin, different hair. Add in high achievement, and that was a recipe for intimidation for most guys.

I thought I’d accepted that years ago and then re-accepted it when I broke up with Colin, but deep down? I wanted someone to notice me. I wanted to be loved for who I was and not for who someone wanted me to be. What better way to prove that I was worthy than for the guy I’d always been secretly obsessed with to want me? It was psychologically predictable.

I pushed open the door just before six, my heart tapping out its own nervous little rhythm in my chest. My bag slid off my shoulder as I stepped inside, and my heart sank. Tim and Nick were already there, hunched over their textbooks.

I walked in and set down the tray of chocolate-covered Rice Krispies treats I’d made. Probably another bid for acceptance and attention on my part, but I was taking baby steps.

Tim wolfed down the rest of his banana. “Eeeey! Maddie!” He waved me over to sit across from them.

Okay. I was hoping to catch Chase alone to get all of this off my chest, but it could wait. “Hey.” I dropped into the chair.

Chase sat at the far table, brows furrowed, scribbling in a notebook. A calculator rested at his elbow, and a mess of game notes was spread across the table. He looked up and gave a small nod.

I smiled, then turned back to scan Tim’s assignment. Something about probability distributions and binomial functions. I could do this in my sleep, so while I walked through the steps with Tim, my brain ran its own internal lecture series.

Planning 101. Your poetry response is due on Thursday.Right. I’d been avoiding that one. Not that I couldn’t write it, butthe poem we’d been assigned was . . . unsettling. I read it once and hadn’t been able to go back to it.

The Rhodes applications open up in June with a September deadline. You need to start preparing your essays—I shut that one down straight out of the gates. I had to wait until this experiment was over anyway, so I wasn’t going to focus on that until classes were out.

Communications 101. When you talk to Chase, say it how it is. He already knows you had a crush on him, it won’t come as a surprise. He’ll probably appreciate the honesty, and then none of this will be awkward anymore.

“Okay.” I tapped Nick’s page. “That’s your mistake. You’re squaringn, but you should only be squaring the variable.”

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