Page 37 of Wish You Were Mine
“Have you decided what you’re gonna do about that, though?” Nora asked, sitting down beside me and pulling her knees to her chest. “Are you staying in Owen—uh, Professor Park’s class?”
“I don’t know…” I stared up at the high ceiling, the rafters crisscrossing like the tangled mess in my brain. “I’ve been going back and forth since yesterday. Trying to decide if it’s going to be completely terrible trying to stay in his class.”
“It has to be super awkward,” Nora said.
“Understatement of the century,” I said, shaking my head as I remembered my interaction with Ow—Professor Park—after class. “But I think I’ll stop by the registration desk after this, just to see if there’s another Intro to Chem section I can switch into. I doubt I’ll be able to switch my lab with him, though, since it was already a miracle I managed to squeeze a three-hour block into my schedule with all my other required classes and practices.”
“Oh yeah.” Nora winced. “Lab times are the worst.”
“Lucky for you, you were smart and took chemistry your freshman year.”
“Truth.”
If only I’d been so smart, then I wouldn’t be in this predicament in the first place.
I sighed. “I just don’t know how I’m supposed to pretend for an entire semester that I didn’t memorize the exact sound he made when I was pressed up against him. Or act like he didn’t look at me like I’d ruined his entire life when I told him who my dad was.”
“Oh jeez,” Nora said, her eyes going wide. “Exactly how far did you guys go in that hot tub? Because that sounds intense.”
“We just made out,” I hurried to say. “Nothing super crazy.” I sighed again. “But yeah…it’s probably better if I just find another class.”
Nora nodded, but from the way she was watching me, I could tell she was waiting for anotherbut.
Which, of course, the hopeless romantic in memighthave been brainstorming ways we could still work.
You know, if he hadn’t already slammed the door shut.
“And…” I exhaled, fully aware I was setting myself up for disappointment just thinking about it. “If there’s even the tiniest chance that Owen’s still remotely interested, then not being in his class would mean we wouldn’t be breaking any rules if wehappenedto see each other at Theo’s birthday party next month…and something happened again.”
“Lucy,” she scolded, though there was a twinkle of humor in her eyes. “Are you seriously already thinking about ways to get around this?”
“Maybe…” I said, my cheeks heating up. “I mean, it was areallygood kiss.”
“It must have been.” She laughed. “If you’re thinking up all this, he must be the best kisser in the world.”
“Top five, at least,” I said, laughing even though this situation wasn’t really that funny. “And I know it’s ridiculous and there’s probably zero chance that he’ll ever even talk to me again with how upset he seemed yesterday. But…I don’t know. I guess I’m not quite ready to pretend it didn’t mean anything just because it’s suddenly inconvenient.”
Was I being delusional? Probably.
But I’d already liked the bartender version of Owen before, so now that he was this super well-educated professor… That just made him even harder to resist.
Well…you know, if he could ever look at me like I wasn’t trying to ruin his career, that is.
Before Nora could tell me I was completely off my rocker, Coach Chambers appeared behind us, arms crossed and a whistle around her neck.
“That double layout’s not going to fix itself while you’re off in dreamland, Archibald,” she said, nodding toward the floor. “Run that last pass again. Make it clean this time, and you can call it a morning.”
“Yes, Coach,” I said, dragging myself to my feet.
I jogged back to the starting corner of the floor, took a deep breath, and sprinted forward, body coiling and springing into the air. The double layout came faster than I expected, and I twisted a little too much on the landing—but this time, I stuck it. Both feet even in bounds.
“Better.” Coach nodded when I looked at her. “Watch your shoulder alignment, though. You're twisting your upper body too early on takeoff. Fix that, and you’ll be golden.”
“Got it,” I said, my heart still racing as I stepped off the floor and made my way toward the locker room.
The registration office smelled faintly of printer ink and stress when I stepped up to the counter, gripping the strap of my backpack like it might help anchor me in this already rapidly spiraling semester.
“How can I help you?” a girl with a sleek ponytail and glasses asked when she noticed me.
