Jules: Oh my God! Did you see the text?
Jules: I told you it wasn’t nothing to them.
Jules: Omg, they really like you!!!
Jules: Girl, you’d better get your men!!!
Jules: For the both of us!!!
Jules: Please, God!!!
Jules: I will track you down if you don’t start answering me.
I’m here, ha-ha. Trying to catch up on all of your messages.
Jules: About time!!! Are you freaking out too? Where are you?
In Kasten Hall. Getting out in five minutes.
Jules: I’ll meet you outside.
I heart her message and then set my phone down, attempting to focus on my collection for the last few minutes. But it’s pointless because I can’t think of anything but Dean and Asher.
I really, truly thought that at some point, they would drop this whole thing and forget about that night and me. That clearly is not their intention, I see.
The girls in front of me are giggling, and I peer over the ledge of my desk to see what they’re looking at.
Holy mother of God.
They’re scrolling through Asher’s Instagram page, currently paused on a shirtless mirror selfie that’s so goddamn hot that it should be illegal. Like,thatwas the man I was straddling and making out with at the party? Him and his broody, hot-ass brother?
I haven’t even considered checking out their socials because I’ve never had any social media account. My dad never let me, and after so long, I didn’t have any interest.
Since everyone still doesn’t know that I exist, the idea of starting an account is daunting. It’s like opening up a never-ending can of worms. Eventually, someone will put two and two together, and I will become the story in every tabloid and rumor. That’s just not for me.
They scroll down, and a picture of Asher and Dean in their jerseys appear. They’re beaming, eyes bright, smiles too big for their faces. My heart warms when I see them smile like that. They look so happy.
I know they’re notminein any capacity. We aren’tanything. But seeing them so joyful means the world to me, especially after everything we talked about that night.
“If I find out who this girl is, I’m killing her so I can take her place,” one of the girls mutters, and I can’t help but grin, knowing the truth.
“And then give one of them to me,” her friend cheers.
“All right, class, thank you for your hard work. Any reviews not done today will be completed first thing on Monday. Have a good weekend!” Professor Borison dismisses us, and I waste no time tossing everything into my bag and heading out of the door.
Jules is right outside of my class, and I nearly run smack dab into her as I round the corner.
She loops her arm in mine, practically skipping as we head out of the hall and down the steps. “Your life is literally turning into aCinderellastory. You realize that, right? Meet at a ball. Search you out. Hide in plain sight. But add hot-ass chemistry and two hockey players.”
I nearly laugh at the comparison. My parents named me after that very fairy tale. It was my mom’s favorite. I wonder what they’d think, seeing me now.
“Keep your voice down,” I scold as we descend the stairs and reach the sidewalk.
She pulls us into the grass and out of the way of passersby, slamming to a halt with an intimidating gleam in her eyes. “Wait, are you really not going to tell them?”
“Are youinsane?” I practically shout before instantly lowering my voice. “No. If anything, I’m going to tell them to leave me alone.”
“That’s horrible!” Her face contorts, her words leaving her lips in disbelief. “And youwantthat?”
