But the color lingers like an afterimage. Bright. Unwanted. Impossible to blink away.
By the timemy shift ends, the sky over BU is tinted lavender with approaching snow. I zip my jacket and walk fast, head down, dodging a group of guys in Iron Hounds hockey team hoodies.
I expect my brain to still be on Theo—the safe choice, the smart choice—but it isn’t. My gaze slides over every face in the crowd, hunting for someone I have absolutely no business looking for.
Kieran.
Pathetic. And confusing. And I hate that I’m doing it.
My phone buzzes, jolting me out of the spiral.
AUBREY
Where are you? Dinner and a movie? Meet you at your place in ten?
WREN
On my way
When I make it back to the dorm, Aubrey’s waiting on the floor in front of my room, legs crossed in sweats and an oversized sweatshirt, blonde curls piled high like a halo of judgment.
“Brought us Chinese takeout. Approve?” She holds up a paper bag.
I nod and unlock the door.
“You look stressed,” she says, following me inside. “More than usual stressed. Like you broke your favorite pencilandthe backup pencil.”
“I’m fine.”
“Try again, girlie.” She kicks off her shoes and settles on the floor, pulling out containers of rice and vegetables. “What happened?”
I drop my bag and sink down beside her. “Theo.”
Her eyebrows jump. “Okay, shocking plot twist. What about him?”
I exhale. “I’m tired of pining after a guy who doesn’t even notice me.”
“Good.” She sits up straighter. “Evict him from your brain. Clear his lease. Change the locks.”
I wince. “I keep hoping he’ll finally look my way. But he won’t.”
Aubrey snorts. “That’s his problem, not yours.” Then her eyes narrow, a wicked light flickering. “Besides, there seems to be another jock seeing you very clearly. Half thecampus is buzzing about Kieran O’Connor choosing to sit next to you in Feldman’s class.”
I feel exposed in a way that has nothing to do with skin.
Because she’s right.
Because heissliding in—loud, bright, uninvited—and I hate how aware I am of him.
“I just like Theo,” I insist, waving her off too quickly.
Aubrey’s face softens, then flattens into dry disbelief. “Wren. Bestie. You’ve been staring at this man for a year. Ayear.And he’s still not even clocking that there is a girl who gets all flustered when he’s around. Yes, he has amazing shoulders and is super smart, but he treats you like the human embodiment of a lab manual.”
I groan.
She nudges a takeout container toward me. “Meanwhile, someone else is out here texting you and rearranging the color palette in your brain. Maybe stop acting like that’s not happening.”
Steel blue flickers at the edge of my thoughts.
