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Earlier Scarlett had said my mystery man being here felt like fate. And I’d brushed it off, saying that if it was fate, my mystery man would find me without us looking for him.

But he had found me.

So...was it fate? I started thinking about the three fates I read about in that Greek mythology book last weekend. For some reason, when I pictured the three fates, Atropos was always the one in focus. Cutting the thread of life.

God, what am I even thinking? This mythology stuff had really gotten in my head.

I didn’t believe in fate and destiny. Just like I didn’t believe Mr. Halifax was a mistake. And I wasn’t Aphrodite.

I crumpled the Post-it note in my fist and stared at Mr. Halifax. It felt like I was out of second chances with him. Like I was running out of time to make all my dreams come true. I pictured Atropos cutting the thread.

Stop it.

The only time I was running out of was days left of my senior year. And I wasn’t too worried about that. Because my next move was going to be perfect.

Chapter 8 – You’re Threatening Me With a Good Time

Saturday

“And here’s to taking down Berstein Prep next!” Axel finished his impromptu drunken speech to the cheers of his team.

“MVP!” they started chanting. “MVP! MVP!”

Why was I the only one that got accused of being a jinx around here? Axel was literally talking about taking down our rivals next weekend, and I wasn’t allowed to mention throwing a party for the occasion? And the MVP wasn’t picked until the end of the season. The whole team was full of jinxes.

I shook my head and looked around the room for a certain someone I knew wouldn’t be there. And just like I expected, there wasn’t one hint of feathers.

I wondered what Mr. Halifax did after games. Maybe he went to a bar with some friends. I pictured him laughing at a table full of guys. All of them taking turns pointing out the hottest girls in the bar.

No.

That image sucked. Maybe he went home alone, looked at the pictures he’d pulled from my phone, and stroked himself to the thought of me.

I smiled. I liked that image so much better. But when would he wake up and realize that he could have the real thing?

I leaned across the kitchen island that was being used as a makeshift bar. I grabbed a bottle of tequila and took a sip straight from the bottle. If I was five years older, I’d already be in Mr. Halifax’s bed. Of that, I was sure. But I couldn’t just speed up time. And the older I got, the older he got. Would he ever see me as more than his immature student?

He’d had his arm around me today. Our skin hadn’t even touched but I’d felt like my whole body was on fire. He must have felt it too. This couldn’t be all in my head.

I took another swig from the bottle. I was worried that I was slowly driving myself insane. And I needed a distraction. I looked around the party again. Axel and Scarlett were dancing now. Liam had his arm around a girl who was probably at least five years older than him. RJ was doing a keg stand. And Jacob was...well, I didn’t see Jacob anywhere. I hoped he hadn’t gone home early. He’d been doing that a lot recently.

Jacob had loved and lost. I felt like I was living that same feeling every day that Mr. Halifax’s lips weren’t on mine. What Jacob and I both needed was to forget for one night. And that involved getting very drunk and dancing together.

I reached into my jacket pocket for my phone and felt the crumpled up Post-it note. “I’ll just have to worship you from afar today.” The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end again. I spun around, but there were only a few other people in the kitchen. Neither with green hair nor dark eyes. I laughed. I was pretty sure I’d switched something there. Either way, my mystery man wasn’t here. He didn’t go to Empire High and this was an Empire High victory party. At least, I didn’t think he went to Empire High.

I shook my head. No, definitely not. Scarlett or Axel would have recognized him.

My mystery man’s words swirled around in my head. Always coming back to his warning before his hands had fallen from my hips. “Do me a favor? Don’t make that mistake we talked about, Aphrodite.”

My little brother was right. This mystery man had gotten under my skin. And I wanted him out. I took another sip of tequila and grabbed my phone. I opened up the stupid dating app and clicked on my unread message from him: “I can’t wait to have my hands on your skin again.”

I wasn’t sure what kind of message I was expecting. But I definitely hadn’t been expecting that. He kept doing and saying things I wished Mr. Halifax would. And I was sick of this guy infiltrating my thoughts. “My skin doesn’t belong to you,” I typed out and hit send.

He responded right away: “It will.”

I swallowed hard. “Never.”

“You won’t be in denial that much longer. Are you out celebrating the win?”