“Gotta run! Saving the world waits for no one!” Alex practically sprints down the hall, books wobbling precariously.
Silence settles between us.
“So,” Ethan says, rocking back on his heels. “Party.”
“I don’t really dance.”
“Everyone can dance.” He grins. “But if you won’t, that’s a good thing too. My moves have been known to cause swooning.Verydangerous. We should maintain a safe perimeter.”
“Your ego is astronomical.”
“It’s confidence. There’s a difference.” He starts walking backward down the hall. “Besides, we’re strictly tutor-tutee, right? Sacred bond. No dancing with ninety-percent compatible matches allowed.”
There it is. The elephant he’s been ignoring all session.
“Yousaidyou were done joking about that.”
“I was. Am.” But his grin has an edge now. “Just two professionals who happen to be scientifically perfect for each other. Academically speaking.”
“Ethan—”
“See you Thursday, Pip. Try not to run any more compatibility tests on us. You’ll wear out your algorithm.”
He salutes and disappears around the corner before I can respond.
I stare at my phone as Alex’s text comes through.
Alex
Party deets! Next Saturday, 12 Hawthorn Ave. Costume required (deets coming tomorrow)!!!!!
My thumb hovers over the keyboard. Over a week is plenty of time to come up with an excuse. To maintain appropriate boundaries. To stop thinking about stupid compatibility scores.
Instead, I type.
I’ll be there.
Because, apparently, I’m also ninety percent likely to make terrible decisions.
The hallway seems brighter as I head to my next class, and I absolutely refuse to analyze why.
The next day,I’m relaxing on the couch when my phone buzzes and Alex’s name pops up.
Alex
NEXT SATURDAY - party moved to Freddie's place! Costumes required, ABC!
Riya sees it before I can hide the screen. “Is that—oh my GOD! Did you just get invited to a Cool Guy House party? And when were you going to tell me,huh? Do you have a plus one?”
“It’s not—Alex is my old freshman roommate. We’re barely friends, but we got on well.”
“Who cares? You’re going. We’re going. This is happening.” She’s already mentally planning outfits, I can tell. “What’s the costume theme? Oooo ABC—that means Anything But Clothes.” She waggles her eyebrows.
I don’t admit that I hadno ideathat’s what it meant.
“I’m not going.”
“You’re absolutely going. When else will we get to see inside the Cool Guy House?” She flops dramatically. “Please? Pretty please? I’ll do your dishes for a week.”
