Page 109 of Under Pressure

Brielle’s concern is so obvious I have to look away. There’s no line at the counter, and almost the entire lunch rush is gone. I suddenly wish it weren’t so quiet.

“The darker pink it is, then. And you’re good with the gold?” she asks softly, seeming to let my sudden mood change go for now.

“It’s your wedding. We’ll do whatever you want us to do.”

Her kissy-lip-tipped pen moves quickly when she writes on a blank line of her notebook. “Okay, so flamingo pink and gold. Do you think we should do more cake pops than pretzels? Ugh, maybe we’ll just triple everything so there’s enough for the guys. They never stop eating.”

My phone is burning a hole in my apron pocket. I’m torn between calling Beck and letting him be. What would I even say if he picked up? Hey, I’m sorry that I upset you enough that you took off without saying goodbye, but I actually think I’ve fallen in love with you, so please forgive me?

Fuck, what an awful plan.

I’m not ready to tell him that at all. From the way I’m fighting back puking all over the table and Brielle’s carefully planned spreadsheets and photos, it’s clear I’m not even ready tofeelthese emotions in the first place.

I’m in love with him, and I’m terrified.

“Do you want to take a break and get something to eat? You look really pale,” she murmurs, looking up from her notebook.

I shake my head and scoot my chair closer to the table. Taking one of the collages she’s glued together on thick pink paper, I say, “I’m fine.”

No, I’m so not.

Callie’s folded over her desk with her face in a massive textbook when I push open the door to her dorm room.

I still don’t know how she lucked out with avoiding a roommate, but the empty single bed across the room from hers has become a second closet for her. My sister’s a total slob, and the state of her room sends chills up my spine the moment I step inside.

A Keurig machine is inside a small nook beside the closet, along with an old pair of over-ear headphones and an ice machine that we found at a garage sale two years ago. I take a mental note of the empty bin of coffee pods and the dirty clothes piling up outside the second closet. I already know I’ll be distracting myself tonight by spending hours at the laundromat.

“Hey. I didn’t know you were coming,” she says, twisting in her rolling chair. The messy knot of hair at the top of her head wobbles when she spins around fully and stares hard at me. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? So you came all the way to campus for fun? You hate it here.”

“I don’thateit.” I tap my fingers to the outsides of my thighs. “You look busy.”

“I’m never too busy to talk to you.”

My heart pangs, and I hesitatingly sit on the edge of her bed. Her eyes track my movements, but it doesn’t feel like too much. If anything, just being here with her is already helping to shrink whatever it is that’s crawled into my chest and taken up all theroom inside it. I rub at the discomfort, trying to ease it completely.

“Hey, what’s going on? Talk to me,” she soothes, pushing herself closer to me.

Our knees touch, and I force myself to speak. “I didn’t . . . I should have gotten out sooner.”

“Out of what?”

“I didn’t want to fall in love. It wasn’t supposed to happen. I don’t have time for it, and I don’t need the distraction.”

“You need to slow down, Quinn.”

“It’s too late to slow down. I’m already so fucked.Royally.”

She grabs both of my knees and squeezes. “Have you told Beck?”

“No. And I’m not going to,” I state firmly, needing to convince both her and myself.

“Why not? He’s in love with you, too.”

“For now. You already know how it goes. I don’t have time for heartbreak. Telling him isn’t going to do anything but make it worse when this all ends. It’s smarter to just break it off now.”