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Not only am I ineligible for any of the grants I researched, thanks to my dad’s income, but I haven’t heard back from a single scholarship I applied for. To make matters worse, Nicole has gone completely AWOL.

As far as I can tell, no one in the sorority house has seen or heard from her since Wednesday morning. It’s Friday and her bed hasn’t been slept in for two days. Her clothes haven’t been rifled through. And I’m not entirely certain she’s been to a single one of her classes. If she has, she’s flying under the radar to get there.

And Jeremy has proven to be a useless source of information. All I could decipher from his bout of verbal diarrhea was something about a sick grandmother. A family emergency might explain her weird reaction last time I saw her, but it doesn’t explain why she’s vanished off the face of the earth.

I’m dying to tell her about my train wreck of a date with Caleb—and the unexpected plot twist immediately after. Not to mention, Valentine’s Day is tomorrow, and I’m desperate for advice, but since she hasn’t answered a single call or text, I guess I’m on my own.

Between Nicole’s sudden absence and my ongoing feud with Jordan, it’s as if the world has tipped on its axis.

And if Nicole’s bizarre behavior isn’t bad enough, the whispers and stares when I walk through campus have gotten worse. Everyone I know is talking about Caleb’s mysterious disappearance as if I had something to do with it. And maybe, in the most convoluted way, I did.

Our disastrous date—number two for me in as many days—was sort of the catalyst for his falling off the radar. And since no one’s seen or heard from him since that night, the rumor mill has shifted the blame to me. Supposedly, he didn’t have anyone to bail him out, but Caleb texted me a weak-ass apology Thursday night, so the jerk at least made it back to campus. I almost wish he spent a few more nights in the slammer. Pretty boy deserves a taste of his own medicine.

“Kennedy, wait up!”

I glance toward whoever is calling my name and cringe as Aaron Benjamin jogs toward me. “Hey, Aaron.”

He brushes my arm, keeping pace with me as I hurry to my first class. “I heard our boy Caleb crashed and burned Wednesday night.”

So much for Caleb’s radio silence.

“It wasn’t the best date I’ve been on.” Technically, it was the worst, but I’d rather not waste any more breath on the subject. Just a few more yards to Spangler Hall, and I’ll be home free—for the next hour or so at least.

“When do I get my shot?” Aaron bumps my shoulder hard enough to knock me off my trajectory.

I stumble but catch myself before falling. “Your shot?”

“Go out with me. I know you’re not my biggest fan, but I think I’d grow on ya, if you gave me a chance.”

Like a wart . . . or a fungus maybe.

I shudder at the thought of any part of Aaron rubbing against any part of me. “Uh, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Truth is, Aaron’s even hotter up close—not as tall as Caleb or Tyler, but his sun-kissed skin, honey hair, and sea-glass eyes easily make up for it. And if I didn’t know him better, I might be drawn in by his dazzling smile. But I can’t afford to fall for his dubious charm. Good looks aren’t enough to ignore where he’s been.

“Yes, you do.” Aaron spins around, facing me as he walks backward down the cobblestone path. “And I promise if you go out with me, you won’t need a stream or a swimming pool to get you wet.”

He winks, and I swallow back my breakfast. Cute or not, he’s so gross.

“Whaddya say, Kennedy? You booked for tomorrow night?”

If Nicole hadn’t sworn on her life—and her entire shoe collection—that she hadn’t told a soul, I’d swear Aaron knows about the “get laid” list. Mom would say denial isn’t just a river in Egypt, but in all the years I’ve known her, Nicole’s never lied to me.

“Intriguing offer, but I already have a date tomorrow night.”

Mercifully, we reach the building, giving me an escape route. I dart inside, but as I do, I notice Jordan staring a hole through me from only a few yards away.

A little over two hours later, after getting roped into an awkward debate on the merits of the good old American hot dog versus the more robust German bratwurst, I walk out of the dining hall to find Elijah waiting for me.

“Can I walk you to your next class?”

“Sure. I’d like that.”

He smiles and pulls two Jolly Ranchers from his pocket, offering me one and unwrapping the other with one hand before popping it into his mouth.

Visions of choking on a piece of hard candy in front of the whole campus pop into my head. “No thanks.”

Elijah’s presence shields me from the curious stares as we walk through the crowded quad.