I pause. Every part of me goes tight. This is the exact thing I don’t want. Help. Pity. Owing someone something. A quick favor here and there and before I know it I’m in debt to the man.
“It’s fine,” I say quickly. “I can handle it.”
Freddie lifts a brow. “It’s not a big deal. I fix bikes all the time. My pa taught me—been doing it since I was, like, ten.”
“I’ll just get a new one,” I blurt, already regretting it.
It’s a lie. A dumb, obvious one. And Troy knows it. I can see it in the subtle shift of his face—the way his jaw ticks, his eyes narrowing slightly like he’s holding back from saying what he really wants to say.
And then, before he can, a voice cuts in.
“Oh my god, what are we talking about?”
A girl with shiny brown hair bounds over, full of wide-eyed energy, with Tara trailing behind her, half-laughing.
“Delilah’s getting a new bike,” Freddie offers casually.
The girl gasps, scandalized. “You’re getting a new one? No, no. Let Freddie fix it. He’s a master. Like, he literally rebuilt mine last semester after I crashed it into a tree. You must let him at least try. It’s such a waste to just buy new every time something breaks.”
“You crashed into a tree because you were texting and riding, Alex,” Tara deadpans.
“Irrelevant.” Alex waves a dismissive hand, turning back to me. “Point is—he’s good. Let him help.”
I open my mouth, ready to refuse again, but she isn’t done.
“And honestly,” she continues, grinning at me like I’vealready won her over, “I already like you for using a bike instead of a car, so I’ll make him do it.”
I force a smile that doesn’t quite reach my eyes. My stomach knots as I nod along, pretending like I’m not drowning in discomfort.
Then sheglaresat Troy.
“What?” Troy lifts his hands, looking deeply offended. “Alfie has a car too!”
“Yes, and I also lecture him about it.” Alex huffs, before turning to me with a sudden, sunny smile. “I’m Alex, by the way. And you’re…?”
“My girl,” Troy says smoothly.
I slap his arm without even thinking. “Project partner,” I correct. “Delilah.”
Her eyes light up. “Oh! You’rethatDelilah.”
Okay. That’sominous.
I feel like I’ve somehow been written into the middle of a sitcom I didn’t audition for. The whole group is loud, chatty, way too attractive, and seem to operate like some strange, emotionally co-dependent wolf pack. I amnotbuilt for this level of enthusiasm.
And then I remember—this is the Alex that Brianna wants to dethrone. Alex, as in, Freddie Donovan’s current girlfriend. Which suddenly makes me want to vomit. She seems really sweet. Before I can formulate an escape plan?—
“Oh my god, Delilah, you should come over Friday night!”
That was Tara.
“What?”
“We’re having a night in,” she says, “Freddie can fix your bike, and Troy’s making fajitas!”
I whip my head toward Troy. “So you do actually cook?” I say, equal parts skeptical and horrified. “I thought that was just a rumor. Like Bigfoot. Or decent campus Wi-Fi.”
Troy smirks, and god it’ssmug.
